And They're Off! Derby Day Fun, pt I
Howdy yall!
I've had A LOT of great things happening lately and just wanted to have a quick check-in!
As I'm sure most of you know, the first weekend in May is the Derby. I don't even know how to describe it if you've never been...our town gets invaded and basically triples in population for the week+ leading up to the event. Most of us locals go to the track the day before when the fillies run...and then avoid the track on Derby Day like the plague...let the tourists and celebrities have it! Instead have our own Derby parties at somebody's house.
And that was exactly what I was doing. Had fun with friends at the Oaks on Friday, and then settled in on Derby Day with some family and friends to watch the races on their theatre sized big screen TV. Its very much like a Super Bowl party, except we wear loud pastels fancy clothes and silly hats instead of football jerseys...and drink bourbon and mint juleps instead of beer.
NOTE 1: mint juleps are awful.
NOTE 2: Yes, I wore a silly hat to this Derby Party; and no, I won't be sharing any pics of it! :)
Every thing went as expected: everyone was suddenly an expert on horse-racing, everybody ate too much, SOME people drank too much (not me! Sweet tea only!), everybody yelled and sceamed and jumped up and down during the race itself. And then after it was over, things began winding down and I was quick to grab my dad to take him home.
But you know me...my evening was just beginning :)
AS ALWAYS, I had some plans and stuff working in the background. Let me give you some quick back-story:
I have a local "buddy" named Tyrone. Not sure if I've talked about him before, but I met him a couple years ago at a New Year's event when I was visiting up here and he has become a semi-regular now that I've moved. I see him maybe a couple times a month and he's a regular at a local hotel lounge not far from where I now live. Tyrone is late 50/early 60s and looks like MC Hammer with his gold rimmed glasses, gold jewelry, and gold toof. Wears track suits, silk shirts, colorful suits, etc. If you went to Party City to buy a "Generic 80s Black Guy" costume, it would look a lot like Tyrone.
A few months ago he introduced to an old friend of his named Deacon. Well, I usually don't call him by his name, I refer to him as "Bill Duke" Do yall know who Bill Duke is? You can google him, but he's a black actor most famous for Predator and Decon looks A LOT like him: older, thick body, very very dark skin, big lazy sunken eyes, etc. I mean, to the point that I actually thought it was him when we were introduced! I mean, I didn't know the name "Bill Duke" (looked that up later), but I was like: "is that the guy from Predator?" LOL
Anywho, Deac lives a couple hours away and comes into town periodically to party with his ol' buddy Tyrone. And...now me as well, I suppose. I've been around him 3 times since I first met him in late '21, but not since the Super Bowl. Tyrone had messaged me that Deac was coming in town for the Derby and getting a suite at the hotel. So I was monitoring that situation even more closely than I was the betting lines as the race approached!
Now, this is where I stop and ask you if you know what happened during the race itself?
The horse that won was a last minute substitution and had the worst odds in the field...I don't care to know much about how horse betting works, but of course some white guy at our Derby party was more than happy to "mansplain" it to me ;)
What I DO know is that the higher the odds, the more money you win if he wins...and the horse that won paid 80-1, which means a $2 bet paid $160! He was so last minute that his name wasn't even in the pool we were drawing from at our party.
We were getting ready to leave our party when I got a message from Tyrone. He was very excited because (and I'm going to paraphrase here, as he messages as poorly as most boomers LOL): apparently ol' Deac has a habit of laying down a $20 or so on the longshot every year "just in case". Well, this year it defintely PAID OFF! And apparently he did one of those complicated bets (exacta, trifecta, whatever) that paid off exponentially. In other words, Deacon hit the jackpot! And was going to throw a wild party to celebrate! YAY!
I dropped dad off and hurried over to meet them at the hotel. Tyrone and Deacon were already whopping it up, buying rounds in the lounge and ordering bottles for the room. Now, while we do run in different circles, I still have to be careful as I don't want any family friends (or heaven forbid, friends from church!) seeing me partying with a bunch of old sleazy black guys. But Deacon let me know that he was going to keep one room of the suite just for guests and the other side private..."and the hot tub room even MORE PRIVATE!"
A hot tub? Dang it...I didn't bring a swim suit!
Deacon looked me up and down and winked, assuring me that would not be a problem. ;)
So...just for your mental image: like I said, people dress CRAZY for the Derby. If you've never seen the Derby hats that women wear, you might enjoy looking them up. Some of them are wildly over the top...we actually had hat-crafting at the party I was at, so mine had lots of flowers and butterflies, etc. I didn't have time to ditch the hat and fix my hair, so I left it on when I went to the hotel. It went very well with the light (and tight!) short floral dress I had on with cute open-toe heels. And besides: a preppy blonde in her Derby hat and spring attire made a VERY NICE contrast with Deacon and Tyrone, who were dressed like a couple of pimps from a 70s cop show!
Deacon put Tyrone on "party-round-up" duty so that he could take me back to the more private areas for some ALONE TIME before other people starting showing up. He was living large, with a bottle of Hennessy in one hand and a cigar in the other as he stepped to me and swept me up in his arms for a deeeeeep sexy lip smacking, tongue swirling open mouth kiss. In case you were wondering, Hennessy + cigars taste TERRIBLE on a black man's breath, but I threw my arms around his big bald head and sucked face eagerly with him anyway.
While we made out, I was a little worried about his cigar catching my dress, hair, or Derby hat (with all those flammable materials) on fire. Luckily it was unlit and I pointed out to him that technically he probably shouldn't smoke it here in the room. He pointed out the small balcony attached and we stepped out there so he could light it and take deep draws on it. He said it was an actual Cuban cigar, but to me it smelled like a dirty diaper on fire, but hey what do I know? He cocked it in his mouth at a jaunty angle while he used his free hand to grope my butt cheeks and up to my breasts.
He asked if I wanted a puff of it and I winked and said NO THANKS and then asked him if there might be OTHER things he'd rather I put in my mouth instead. I already had my hand on the bulge in his colourful pants, and gave it a little squeeze for punctuation just in case he wasn't clear what I was getting at. Good news: his smirk indicated that he did indeed know what I was getting at!
We both looked around, making sure no one could see us out on this small balcony...it was private with side walls and we were up high enough no one in the parking lot or Interstate could really see much if anything. I gave him my sneakiest most knowing grin as I unzipped his pants and fished his hard black dick out of his sillky boxers. I looked down at this big meaty dark sausage in my manicured white hand before kneeling down to put it in my mouth.
Now, in case you were wondering: yes, it was extremely difficult to give a proper blow job while wearing a Derby hat. The brim was easily a couple feet wide so I had to turn my head to even get close. The fact his black dick was long helped out, but his thick belly was a roadblock with that wide brim to off-set and work against us. Dang it, I was doing the best I could! But lets face it: the quality of this blow job wasn't as important as the optics. This was more about the fact that I was on my knees still fully dressed in my cute heels and dress, looking extrmemly caucasion and privileged with my blonde hair spilling out from under my Derby hat. Oh and I did I mention I was wearing pearls? I totally was wearing pearls, basically June Cleaver except for the fat black dick in my mouth.
And that defintely wasn't Ward Cleaver smirking down at me with a smelly cigar hanging out of his fat purple lips, removing it occasionally so he could take a sip of his booze. I mean, we were totally in role-play mode here and it was wickedly fun. Deacon playing the role of hood rat high roller who struck it rich and me playing the part of white gold digger. Of course I had sucked his dick on previous occasions before he'd ever come into his current ca$h...but we were clearly living out a fantasy for him. How many times had he seen the snooty white women at Derby events and fantasized about sticking his dirty black dick in their mouths? And now he was!
After he snapped a few mental pictures of me sucking his dick, he pulled me up from my knees and turned me around so that I was facing the railing. He sat the booze down so that his hands were free to pull my dress up over my backside and then pull my thong panties down. Maybe I should mention it was probably in the 60s at this moment and the air was quite chilly on my exposed cheeks! I felt Deac's fat fingers on my pussy lips and slipping up inside me, using my own wetness to lubricate my pussy lips and smear all over the head of his dick. Then I felt something back there much thicker than his fingers and went up on my tip toes and back down on it as it eased forward into me.
His fat dick slid inside me slowly, a bit at a time until I felt his fat belly pressing against my backside. I felt his meaty hands dig into my waist as he began grinding it around inside me. He let out a moan that was more of a rumble, deep in his chest. So NOW for your visual image: I'm standing on my tip toes, popping up and out of my heels while this big grizzly of a black man fucked me from behind, me holding onto the railing with one hand while holding onto my hat with the other, praying it didn't blow off my head. DId I mention the cigar ashes flying around from him and into my face? Yuck! Leaning forward over the railing like I was, I could now see into other balconies and even rooms....not quite as sheilded as before! I reminded myself I was wearing a huge ridiculous hat to hide my face and conceal my identity!
But like the blow job, this was more about checking an item off a bucket list than it was having quality sex. I was certainly enjoying the moment and we both had a great story to tell (ha ha) But I was more than ready to hear him mumble that it was "time to get our asses inside to that hot tub" after a few minutes of pumping. He eased me down off his dick and we went back inside. The hot tub was actually located in a small alcove that also had a door. Not much of a room, but I was happy to see that it did indeed offer another level of privacy. It was toasty warm in there, a nice contrast from the chill I had gotten from the balcony.
I slithered out of my dress, giving Deacon one last look at me in just my heels and Derby hat before FINALLY unpinning that monstrosity and ripping it off! I rarely wear hats and by this point it felt like I had a full suitcase on my sweaty head. OMG, shaking my hair loose felt better than taking off a bra after a game of tennis! :) All I had left on were my heels and I sat down on the little bench in the sauna room to slip them off. Deacon looked genuinely sad to see them go, and I made a mental note about that.
Deacon was now also buck naked looking like a dark chocolate-covered PIllsbury Doughboy with gold chains, pinky rings, and a once-again-unlit cigar in his mouth. He had not been able to take his eyes off my body as I stripped and now was stepping forward to tweak my stiff nipples, his black dick still hard and twitching and bobbing in the air. I leaned down to put it in my mouth and taste my pussy on it before we stepped gingerly into the hot tub. The warm water and swirling jets felt AMAZING on my tingling sexually stimulated body.
And so it began: hanging out in the tub, flowing from just kicking back together to him pulling me closer, my legs aross him. Geting closer so he could touch my boobs, then even closer so he could suck on my nipples. Making out. Groping each other under the water, touching, sqeezing, stroking. Playing footsie with each other. Balls being massaged, buttholes being touched lightly. Sucking bourbon off each other's tounges and lips. All while some old school R&B thumped in the other room in time with our grinding bodies. While the sex on the balcony was more about checking off a bucket list, THIS was turning into the real deal!
I knew that actual fucking in the hot tub would sound much sexier than it would actually be and was already sizing up that bench and wondering if it would support both of us, when Deacon suddenly scooped me up and lifted me out of the water! I gasped in shock as held me up so that my crotch was even with his face and then uncerimoniously shoved his face between my legs. Or was it more like he shoved my pussy onto his face? Not sure and it didn't matter! Deacon is a full grown man and a VERY GOOD and EXPERIENCED pussy eater and it was always a treat to have him performing on me!
So now I'm leaning forward and holding onto the wall while I straddle Deacon's wide bald head, my knees on either side and resting on the lip of the hot tub. He was reaching up to squeeze my butt cheeks while I grinded against his face and OH MY his tongue was really doing a number on me! I was actually kinda mad that I came as fast as I did, because I would've gladly let him do that for as long as he wanted to!
I came all over his ugly face and then he slid out from under me as I collapsed forward. I was now resting in a heap on the side of the hot tub, ass up in the air, with him positioning himself behind me for the 2nd time this evening. His thick dick slid inside my still-spasming pussy and he began humping doggy, causing huge sloppy waves in the tub that were splashing all over the place but I got the feeling he didn't care. My knees began to ache a little, so I shifted forward until I was nearly flat on the floor and he was "prone-boning" me. His body is wide and heavy and I was pinning me down as he drilled into me.
Flat on my belly prone-bone soon gave way to me on my side and him still over me, my legs pushed back and resting in the crook of his arm. I had only had intercourse with Deacon once before and that mostly consisted of me riding him. Which given his age and size, was to be expected. But I don't know if he was invigorated from hitting the jackpot, the bourbon, or living out his Derby fantasy with a hot blonde (or some combination), but he was giving me quite the pounding ON TOP with no indication of letting up!
He had a snarl of exertion on his face, his gold chains bouncing back and forth on his chest, occasionally grazing my chin as well. He was hunched over me with his shoulder curled forward in a stance that made me think of a silverback gorilla, his bulldog jowls jiggling in time with his man-boobs. I was now getting this vision of Deacon being a real bad-ass alpha male when he was younger, as opposed to the older slow-moving guy I knew! I had stayed in a semi-constant state of post-orgasm toe-curling tingling while he was giving it to me!
I turned my head and my cute heels caught my eye laying an arm's length away. Remembering how he had admired them on me, I quickly reached for them and pulled my legs back to put them on. A slow lazy Grinch grin spread across his face and his pumping slowed to nearly a standstill to watch me slip them on my feet. I heard a quiet "Hell yeah...." rumble out of him as I placed both feet on his right shoulder and we both took a few beats to admire them. The heels were white and pink...VERY spring time and VERY "white girl" and contrasted VERY nicely against his dark chocolate skin. My toes were peeking out and painted a bright pink to match.
I could feel his breath on them as he exhaled deeply while staring at them lustfully. He had been steady pumping inside me before I put them on, and now his Pringles can dick was buried inside me. He began grinding it around slowly while he stared my shoes, feet, and legs, eyes traveling up and down. Grinding turning into forceful thrusts...him pulling back til his dick was nearly all the way out of me...pause...pause...then THRUST! And I mean: his big hairy coconuts slapping against my ass on the down stroke!
Holy crap! Those shoes on my feet were the only thing keeping my toes from curling into fists it fell SO AMAZING! I mean, sure, from the pleasure, but mostly just knowing and seeing and feeling how much this meant to him and how in the zone he was, giving me the absolute best he had to give. THRUST....pause....pause...THRUST....pause....pause...THRUST, on and on. Each thrust punctated with the sound of his balls slapping my ass and a squeal from me. And every 3rd or 4th THRUST ending with a balls-deep grind and wiggle inside me, causing me to cry out and clutch desperately at his thick arms and shoulders.
He grabbed both my ankles and crossed them, both in one big meaty paw, my feet in those heels bouncing right by his face. Holding them back far enough he could look at them, his eyes traveling from the tips of my pink toes down my legs, torso, jiggling breasts, quivering lips, and fluttering eyes. Drinking in the expression of pleasure on my face that he was providing. Then back up to my heels, lather, rinse, repeat. Soon, the 2 "pauses" in between thrusts went to just 1 and then to none as he began picking up speed again and jackhammering me. THRUST SLAP THUST SLAP THRUST SLAP!!
At some point he had transferred my legs so that he now had an ankle in each hand as he pounded away. I threw an arm around his neck to pull myself up to kiss his fat purple lips, using my other hand to reach back and massage those huge swinging nuts. I knew he was getting close and he soon confirmed this by grunting:
"Bout to nut"...
"Do it on my face...." I grunted right back. Now to be honest I don't know if it was a question or suggestion or command.
"Do it on my face?"
"Do in on my face!"
"DO.IT.ON.MY.FACE."
Ha-ha, I guess it doesn't really matter as that smirky snarl returned and he grunted "DAMN RIGHT" back into my face.
And then a few strokes later he was letting go of my ankles and lunging forward, one ham fist around his glistening black dick and stroking it furiously near my chin. I grabbed my ankles to keep them pulled back and my feet in heels that he seemed to like so much in his view. He absolutely bellowed like a bull just before a huge glob of his come splatted across my face. And another. And another. Some guys squirt streams, some do ropes, but ol' Deacon was making me feel like someone had opened a can of clam chowder and thrown it at my face!
What a sight that was for me: looking up thru a haze of flying blobs of semen to see the purple head of a thick black dick...beyond that: a wide dark Buddha belly and saggy orangutan man-boobs...beyond that, Deacon's ugly bulldog face now sagging with exhaustion and looking every bit his age and then some as he panted raggedly (hoping he wasn't going to need a difibulator!) And one of my feet in those pretty heels up near his shoulder. Totally having a flashback to trying them on in the shoe store and feeling so happy with the purchase. Getting compliments from other gals at the Derby party and from the older ladies at church when I wore them there once.
And now there was one on my dainty size 7 foot in the grip of this big older black man as he gently kissed the side and top of it. He had dribbied out the last drops of come and was now leaning foward to dip the wide purple head into my eager mouth.
So surreal!
Unfortunately we didn't have much after glow time, as soon I heard the unmistakable sound of Tyrone's scratchy voice in the other room and getting closer, "Deacon, where da fug you at?"
And that was just how the evening started!
This is just part ONE...there's MORE to come!
I've had A LOT of great things happening lately and just wanted to have a quick check-in!
As I'm sure most of you know, the first weekend in May is the Derby. I don't even know how to describe it if you've never been...our town gets invaded and basically triples in population for the week+ leading up to the event. Most of us locals go to the track the day before when the fillies run...and then avoid the track on Derby Day like the plague...let the tourists and celebrities have it! Instead have our own Derby parties at somebody's house.
And that was exactly what I was doing. Had fun with friends at the Oaks on Friday, and then settled in on Derby Day with some family and friends to watch the races on their theatre sized big screen TV. Its very much like a Super Bowl party, except we wear loud pastels fancy clothes and silly hats instead of football jerseys...and drink bourbon and mint juleps instead of beer.
NOTE 1: mint juleps are awful.
NOTE 2: Yes, I wore a silly hat to this Derby Party; and no, I won't be sharing any pics of it! :)
Every thing went as expected: everyone was suddenly an expert on horse-racing, everybody ate too much, SOME people drank too much (not me! Sweet tea only!), everybody yelled and sceamed and jumped up and down during the race itself. And then after it was over, things began winding down and I was quick to grab my dad to take him home.
But you know me...my evening was just beginning :)
AS ALWAYS, I had some plans and stuff working in the background. Let me give you some quick back-story:
I have a local "buddy" named Tyrone. Not sure if I've talked about him before, but I met him a couple years ago at a New Year's event when I was visiting up here and he has become a semi-regular now that I've moved. I see him maybe a couple times a month and he's a regular at a local hotel lounge not far from where I now live. Tyrone is late 50/early 60s and looks like MC Hammer with his gold rimmed glasses, gold jewelry, and gold toof. Wears track suits, silk shirts, colorful suits, etc. If you went to Party City to buy a "Generic 80s Black Guy" costume, it would look a lot like Tyrone.
A few months ago he introduced to an old friend of his named Deacon. Well, I usually don't call him by his name, I refer to him as "Bill Duke" Do yall know who Bill Duke is? You can google him, but he's a black actor most famous for Predator and Decon looks A LOT like him: older, thick body, very very dark skin, big lazy sunken eyes, etc. I mean, to the point that I actually thought it was him when we were introduced! I mean, I didn't know the name "Bill Duke" (looked that up later), but I was like: "is that the guy from Predator?" LOL
Anywho, Deac lives a couple hours away and comes into town periodically to party with his ol' buddy Tyrone. And...now me as well, I suppose. I've been around him 3 times since I first met him in late '21, but not since the Super Bowl. Tyrone had messaged me that Deac was coming in town for the Derby and getting a suite at the hotel. So I was monitoring that situation even more closely than I was the betting lines as the race approached!
Now, this is where I stop and ask you if you know what happened during the race itself?
The horse that won was a last minute substitution and had the worst odds in the field...I don't care to know much about how horse betting works, but of course some white guy at our Derby party was more than happy to "mansplain" it to me ;)
What I DO know is that the higher the odds, the more money you win if he wins...and the horse that won paid 80-1, which means a $2 bet paid $160! He was so last minute that his name wasn't even in the pool we were drawing from at our party.
We were getting ready to leave our party when I got a message from Tyrone. He was very excited because (and I'm going to paraphrase here, as he messages as poorly as most boomers LOL): apparently ol' Deac has a habit of laying down a $20 or so on the longshot every year "just in case". Well, this year it defintely PAID OFF! And apparently he did one of those complicated bets (exacta, trifecta, whatever) that paid off exponentially. In other words, Deacon hit the jackpot! And was going to throw a wild party to celebrate! YAY!
I dropped dad off and hurried over to meet them at the hotel. Tyrone and Deacon were already whopping it up, buying rounds in the lounge and ordering bottles for the room. Now, while we do run in different circles, I still have to be careful as I don't want any family friends (or heaven forbid, friends from church!) seeing me partying with a bunch of old sleazy black guys. But Deacon let me know that he was going to keep one room of the suite just for guests and the other side private..."and the hot tub room even MORE PRIVATE!"
A hot tub? Dang it...I didn't bring a swim suit!
Deacon looked me up and down and winked, assuring me that would not be a problem. ;)
So...just for your mental image: like I said, people dress CRAZY for the Derby. If you've never seen the Derby hats that women wear, you might enjoy looking them up. Some of them are wildly over the top...we actually had hat-crafting at the party I was at, so mine had lots of flowers and butterflies, etc. I didn't have time to ditch the hat and fix my hair, so I left it on when I went to the hotel. It went very well with the light (and tight!) short floral dress I had on with cute open-toe heels. And besides: a preppy blonde in her Derby hat and spring attire made a VERY NICE contrast with Deacon and Tyrone, who were dressed like a couple of pimps from a 70s cop show!
Deacon put Tyrone on "party-round-up" duty so that he could take me back to the more private areas for some ALONE TIME before other people starting showing up. He was living large, with a bottle of Hennessy in one hand and a cigar in the other as he stepped to me and swept me up in his arms for a deeeeeep sexy lip smacking, tongue swirling open mouth kiss. In case you were wondering, Hennessy + cigars taste TERRIBLE on a black man's breath, but I threw my arms around his big bald head and sucked face eagerly with him anyway.
While we made out, I was a little worried about his cigar catching my dress, hair, or Derby hat (with all those flammable materials) on fire. Luckily it was unlit and I pointed out to him that technically he probably shouldn't smoke it here in the room. He pointed out the small balcony attached and we stepped out there so he could light it and take deep draws on it. He said it was an actual Cuban cigar, but to me it smelled like a dirty diaper on fire, but hey what do I know? He cocked it in his mouth at a jaunty angle while he used his free hand to grope my butt cheeks and up to my breasts.
He asked if I wanted a puff of it and I winked and said NO THANKS and then asked him if there might be OTHER things he'd rather I put in my mouth instead. I already had my hand on the bulge in his colourful pants, and gave it a little squeeze for punctuation just in case he wasn't clear what I was getting at. Good news: his smirk indicated that he did indeed know what I was getting at!
We both looked around, making sure no one could see us out on this small balcony...it was private with side walls and we were up high enough no one in the parking lot or Interstate could really see much if anything. I gave him my sneakiest most knowing grin as I unzipped his pants and fished his hard black dick out of his sillky boxers. I looked down at this big meaty dark sausage in my manicured white hand before kneeling down to put it in my mouth.
Now, in case you were wondering: yes, it was extremely difficult to give a proper blow job while wearing a Derby hat. The brim was easily a couple feet wide so I had to turn my head to even get close. The fact his black dick was long helped out, but his thick belly was a roadblock with that wide brim to off-set and work against us. Dang it, I was doing the best I could! But lets face it: the quality of this blow job wasn't as important as the optics. This was more about the fact that I was on my knees still fully dressed in my cute heels and dress, looking extrmemly caucasion and privileged with my blonde hair spilling out from under my Derby hat. Oh and I did I mention I was wearing pearls? I totally was wearing pearls, basically June Cleaver except for the fat black dick in my mouth.
And that defintely wasn't Ward Cleaver smirking down at me with a smelly cigar hanging out of his fat purple lips, removing it occasionally so he could take a sip of his booze. I mean, we were totally in role-play mode here and it was wickedly fun. Deacon playing the role of hood rat high roller who struck it rich and me playing the part of white gold digger. Of course I had sucked his dick on previous occasions before he'd ever come into his current ca$h...but we were clearly living out a fantasy for him. How many times had he seen the snooty white women at Derby events and fantasized about sticking his dirty black dick in their mouths? And now he was!
After he snapped a few mental pictures of me sucking his dick, he pulled me up from my knees and turned me around so that I was facing the railing. He sat the booze down so that his hands were free to pull my dress up over my backside and then pull my thong panties down. Maybe I should mention it was probably in the 60s at this moment and the air was quite chilly on my exposed cheeks! I felt Deac's fat fingers on my pussy lips and slipping up inside me, using my own wetness to lubricate my pussy lips and smear all over the head of his dick. Then I felt something back there much thicker than his fingers and went up on my tip toes and back down on it as it eased forward into me.
His fat dick slid inside me slowly, a bit at a time until I felt his fat belly pressing against my backside. I felt his meaty hands dig into my waist as he began grinding it around inside me. He let out a moan that was more of a rumble, deep in his chest. So NOW for your visual image: I'm standing on my tip toes, popping up and out of my heels while this big grizzly of a black man fucked me from behind, me holding onto the railing with one hand while holding onto my hat with the other, praying it didn't blow off my head. DId I mention the cigar ashes flying around from him and into my face? Yuck! Leaning forward over the railing like I was, I could now see into other balconies and even rooms....not quite as sheilded as before! I reminded myself I was wearing a huge ridiculous hat to hide my face and conceal my identity!
But like the blow job, this was more about checking an item off a bucket list than it was having quality sex. I was certainly enjoying the moment and we both had a great story to tell (ha ha) But I was more than ready to hear him mumble that it was "time to get our asses inside to that hot tub" after a few minutes of pumping. He eased me down off his dick and we went back inside. The hot tub was actually located in a small alcove that also had a door. Not much of a room, but I was happy to see that it did indeed offer another level of privacy. It was toasty warm in there, a nice contrast from the chill I had gotten from the balcony.
I slithered out of my dress, giving Deacon one last look at me in just my heels and Derby hat before FINALLY unpinning that monstrosity and ripping it off! I rarely wear hats and by this point it felt like I had a full suitcase on my sweaty head. OMG, shaking my hair loose felt better than taking off a bra after a game of tennis! :) All I had left on were my heels and I sat down on the little bench in the sauna room to slip them off. Deacon looked genuinely sad to see them go, and I made a mental note about that.
Deacon was now also buck naked looking like a dark chocolate-covered PIllsbury Doughboy with gold chains, pinky rings, and a once-again-unlit cigar in his mouth. He had not been able to take his eyes off my body as I stripped and now was stepping forward to tweak my stiff nipples, his black dick still hard and twitching and bobbing in the air. I leaned down to put it in my mouth and taste my pussy on it before we stepped gingerly into the hot tub. The warm water and swirling jets felt AMAZING on my tingling sexually stimulated body.
And so it began: hanging out in the tub, flowing from just kicking back together to him pulling me closer, my legs aross him. Geting closer so he could touch my boobs, then even closer so he could suck on my nipples. Making out. Groping each other under the water, touching, sqeezing, stroking. Playing footsie with each other. Balls being massaged, buttholes being touched lightly. Sucking bourbon off each other's tounges and lips. All while some old school R&B thumped in the other room in time with our grinding bodies. While the sex on the balcony was more about checking off a bucket list, THIS was turning into the real deal!
I knew that actual fucking in the hot tub would sound much sexier than it would actually be and was already sizing up that bench and wondering if it would support both of us, when Deacon suddenly scooped me up and lifted me out of the water! I gasped in shock as held me up so that my crotch was even with his face and then uncerimoniously shoved his face between my legs. Or was it more like he shoved my pussy onto his face? Not sure and it didn't matter! Deacon is a full grown man and a VERY GOOD and EXPERIENCED pussy eater and it was always a treat to have him performing on me!
So now I'm leaning forward and holding onto the wall while I straddle Deacon's wide bald head, my knees on either side and resting on the lip of the hot tub. He was reaching up to squeeze my butt cheeks while I grinded against his face and OH MY his tongue was really doing a number on me! I was actually kinda mad that I came as fast as I did, because I would've gladly let him do that for as long as he wanted to!
I came all over his ugly face and then he slid out from under me as I collapsed forward. I was now resting in a heap on the side of the hot tub, ass up in the air, with him positioning himself behind me for the 2nd time this evening. His thick dick slid inside my still-spasming pussy and he began humping doggy, causing huge sloppy waves in the tub that were splashing all over the place but I got the feeling he didn't care. My knees began to ache a little, so I shifted forward until I was nearly flat on the floor and he was "prone-boning" me. His body is wide and heavy and I was pinning me down as he drilled into me.
Flat on my belly prone-bone soon gave way to me on my side and him still over me, my legs pushed back and resting in the crook of his arm. I had only had intercourse with Deacon once before and that mostly consisted of me riding him. Which given his age and size, was to be expected. But I don't know if he was invigorated from hitting the jackpot, the bourbon, or living out his Derby fantasy with a hot blonde (or some combination), but he was giving me quite the pounding ON TOP with no indication of letting up!
He had a snarl of exertion on his face, his gold chains bouncing back and forth on his chest, occasionally grazing my chin as well. He was hunched over me with his shoulder curled forward in a stance that made me think of a silverback gorilla, his bulldog jowls jiggling in time with his man-boobs. I was now getting this vision of Deacon being a real bad-ass alpha male when he was younger, as opposed to the older slow-moving guy I knew! I had stayed in a semi-constant state of post-orgasm toe-curling tingling while he was giving it to me!
I turned my head and my cute heels caught my eye laying an arm's length away. Remembering how he had admired them on me, I quickly reached for them and pulled my legs back to put them on. A slow lazy Grinch grin spread across his face and his pumping slowed to nearly a standstill to watch me slip them on my feet. I heard a quiet "Hell yeah...." rumble out of him as I placed both feet on his right shoulder and we both took a few beats to admire them. The heels were white and pink...VERY spring time and VERY "white girl" and contrasted VERY nicely against his dark chocolate skin. My toes were peeking out and painted a bright pink to match.
I could feel his breath on them as he exhaled deeply while staring at them lustfully. He had been steady pumping inside me before I put them on, and now his Pringles can dick was buried inside me. He began grinding it around slowly while he stared my shoes, feet, and legs, eyes traveling up and down. Grinding turning into forceful thrusts...him pulling back til his dick was nearly all the way out of me...pause...pause...then THRUST! And I mean: his big hairy coconuts slapping against my ass on the down stroke!
Holy crap! Those shoes on my feet were the only thing keeping my toes from curling into fists it fell SO AMAZING! I mean, sure, from the pleasure, but mostly just knowing and seeing and feeling how much this meant to him and how in the zone he was, giving me the absolute best he had to give. THRUST....pause....pause...THRUST....pause....pause...THRUST, on and on. Each thrust punctated with the sound of his balls slapping my ass and a squeal from me. And every 3rd or 4th THRUST ending with a balls-deep grind and wiggle inside me, causing me to cry out and clutch desperately at his thick arms and shoulders.
He grabbed both my ankles and crossed them, both in one big meaty paw, my feet in those heels bouncing right by his face. Holding them back far enough he could look at them, his eyes traveling from the tips of my pink toes down my legs, torso, jiggling breasts, quivering lips, and fluttering eyes. Drinking in the expression of pleasure on my face that he was providing. Then back up to my heels, lather, rinse, repeat. Soon, the 2 "pauses" in between thrusts went to just 1 and then to none as he began picking up speed again and jackhammering me. THRUST SLAP THUST SLAP THRUST SLAP!!
At some point he had transferred my legs so that he now had an ankle in each hand as he pounded away. I threw an arm around his neck to pull myself up to kiss his fat purple lips, using my other hand to reach back and massage those huge swinging nuts. I knew he was getting close and he soon confirmed this by grunting:
"Bout to nut"...
"Do it on my face...." I grunted right back. Now to be honest I don't know if it was a question or suggestion or command.
"Do it on my face?"
"Do in on my face!"
"DO.IT.ON.MY.FACE."
Ha-ha, I guess it doesn't really matter as that smirky snarl returned and he grunted "DAMN RIGHT" back into my face.
And then a few strokes later he was letting go of my ankles and lunging forward, one ham fist around his glistening black dick and stroking it furiously near my chin. I grabbed my ankles to keep them pulled back and my feet in heels that he seemed to like so much in his view. He absolutely bellowed like a bull just before a huge glob of his come splatted across my face. And another. And another. Some guys squirt streams, some do ropes, but ol' Deacon was making me feel like someone had opened a can of clam chowder and thrown it at my face!
What a sight that was for me: looking up thru a haze of flying blobs of semen to see the purple head of a thick black dick...beyond that: a wide dark Buddha belly and saggy orangutan man-boobs...beyond that, Deacon's ugly bulldog face now sagging with exhaustion and looking every bit his age and then some as he panted raggedly (hoping he wasn't going to need a difibulator!) And one of my feet in those pretty heels up near his shoulder. Totally having a flashback to trying them on in the shoe store and feeling so happy with the purchase. Getting compliments from other gals at the Derby party and from the older ladies at church when I wore them there once.
And now there was one on my dainty size 7 foot in the grip of this big older black man as he gently kissed the side and top of it. He had dribbied out the last drops of come and was now leaning foward to dip the wide purple head into my eager mouth.
So surreal!
Unfortunately we didn't have much after glow time, as soon I heard the unmistakable sound of Tyrone's scratchy voice in the other room and getting closer, "Deacon, where da fug you at?"
And that was just how the evening started!
This is just part ONE...there's MORE to come!
منذ 2 سنوات
--- Jamal
