Black Friday!
What's up, yall?
Hope you are all gearing up for a merry Christmas or happy holiday or delightful Hanukkah or bangin' Kwanzaa or drunken Festivus or maybe just jacking/jilling off to porn here on hamster! Whatever it is you do, I hope you enjoy doing it over this holiday weekend!
So I’m going to time-jump on you all once again. Instead of following the sequence of “what happened next?” after my story about my partner-in-crime Katie, I want to tell you about something that happened just a few weeks ago…Thanksgiving weekend, in fact and more specifically:
BLACK FRIDAY!
Let me preface this by letting you know I have established a fun little tradition of having a quickie fling with a random black dick every year on BLACK FRIDAY…simply because of the wonderful name of that day. I also have some similar fun traditions on Halloween (costumes! Masks!), and remind me to tell you sometime what I do to celebrate Black History Month! ;)
I go back home (a couple hours away) to visit my family on Thanksgiving and usually spend the weekend. I typically hit the malls on FRI, sometimes with family and sometimes with friends and sometimes by myself. But either way, I try to find an opportunity to sneak in some fun, usually by telling my family I’m going out with friends or telling friends I’m going out with family. The first time was after dinner with friends on my way home, stopping by a black friend’s house for a quick oral/foot thing (long story there, and unfortunately that’s one back story I’ll probably have to keep to myself :( )
ANYWAY, the following year I was back in town and reflecting back on that encounter…I started getting a little worked up thinking about it and decided to see if I could re-create it with someone else, and…wah-la! A tradition was born! Now it saddens me a little to say that I look forward to my Black (dick) Friday challenge even more than spending quality time with family and friends. Does that make me a bad person? Well, maybe a little…
One of my favorite “hunting grounds” back home is this area we will refer to as: Across the River.
In my hometown, going Across the River is like traveling to Guatemala. Like many bigger towns, people live the majority of their lives within a 15 minute radius and treat going Across the River similar to space travel. There are some nice malls Across the River, so there is reason to go there a couple times a year, and you will run into some people you know on occasion…but for the most part it’s a completely different world of people. So there affords a curious blend of familiarity and anonymity…which is PERFECT for what I typically have in mind!
I’ve had some interesting Black Friday experiences and might possibly detail some of them at a later time…for right now, here is this year’s:
My fam and I hit local stores that morning, but we decided to divide and conquer in the afternoon and evening. They would hit some different local stores while I bravely volunteered to make the trek into the netherworld Across the River (“Yuck. Better you than me!” I was told LOL). This would give me plenty of time and opportunity to “hunt” at a somewhat leisurely pace!
And I had been at the first mall for all that long, maybe a couple hours, when I heard someone call out my name…
Now, this normally might throw a monkey-wrench in my plans…but then I saw who it was.
BOOG!
AKA, short for Booger, a black guy I knew from a guy I dated who managed a restaurant Across the River…
OK, longstoryshort: yes, I do occasionally date white guys. This is for maintaining a public image only; I do not have sex with them. How is that possible, you ask? Well, I have a reputation for being a “good girl” and a regular church-goer, so…I know, that’s bad of me, right? Anyway, I dated this white guy back home a couple years ago for about 8 months. We got pretty serious, to the point of me actually considering: a. having sex with him (I didn’t) and b. permanently giving up my black dick lifestyle (didn't do that either). Yes, in a moment of guilt, I actually threw away my “Little BLACK Book” of names/numbers/contact info as well as deleted any incriminating (ahem) pictures and (ahem) video clips and even my old journal entries detailing my adventures on the “dark” side. I know, bad idea, right? For even though I tried and tried and was actually good for most of the 8 months, I found myself beginning to think more and more about black dicks…to the point I finally broke down during a Lakers game and began masturbating to Kobe Bryant, later moving onto my laptop and finishing myself off here to a Wesley Pipes video.
Once that seal had been broken (so to speak), I began craving the real thing again…and even with just masturbating to images, I felt like I was cheating on the white guy anyway, so I broke it off. That was the last white guy I seriously dated for more than a couple dates in a row.
And like I said, he managed a restaurant Across the River, and I hung out with him there some. And yeah, Boog had been a dishwasher there. We’d given Boog a ride home on a few occasions. He was a sweet teddy bear of a guy, very happy and out-going and popular because of his good nature. He was a hugger and yes, I’d hugged Boog a few times back in the day…innocently, of course. ...but deep down I *knew* he was getting a little something extra out of our hugs. This was back when I was trying to be good and faithful to the guy I was dating, so I tried not to think about it. Although I totally did. I tried to push the images of him getting hard by hugging me out of my mind, tried not to picture what his dick might look (or taste) like...but it was a struggle LOL.
ANYWAY, I don't have to try to be good anymore, do I?
And the only person I have to be faithful to now is myself!
So I totally allowed myself to be swept up in Boog’s bear-hug and pressed my body full-on against his. I even slipped him a quick kiss on the cheek, just because I could. Just being all up in a black man’s personal space, sharing each other’s scents, and feeling our bodies press together caused my nipples to immediately tingle and I felt myself get a little moist…
2015 Mandi was standing a little closer to Boog than Mandi of a couple years ago would have, our legs still touching and our hands remaining on each other’s arms as we caught up on old times. He wasn’t working at my ex-‘s restaurant anymore, and in fact my ex- wasn’t even at that location anymore himself. And of course I hadn’t dated that guy in awhile…so like the town Across the River, Boog and my relationship to him was both familiar but not TOO familiar himself…just like I prefer it.
OK, so you want to visualize Boog? Well, let me just get this out of the way: he’s NOT retarded. Not even close. He is, however, what you might refer to as a little slow. Slow-moving, slow-talking, slow-thinking…but definitely not retarded or even mentally handicapped. As I recall he was mostly illiterate and a little math-challenged (had trouble keeping up with his worked hours)…but what do you expect from a professional dishwasher? No disrespect to anyone who’s held that job (I was a hostess for the same restaurant chain in college and know the struggle), but there’s a reason why Boog was washing dishes in his 40’s instead of working on Wall Street.
He was average height (5’10 or so) and slightly chubby, maybe 200+ lbs? Very very very dark skin with buck teeth and slightly crossed eyes that didn’t exactly make him look smarter. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt and baggy jeans, the same exact thing I’d always seen him wear every time I’d ever been around him. The fact his clothes were stained and wet let me know what he was still washing dishes (a fact he confirmed), in one of the restaurants there in the mall.
I asked him if he needed me to give him a ride home, you know, for old time’s sake…he said SURE WHY NOT and just like that I had a strange but familiar black man getting into my car on Black Friday, just like I had hoped for! And as we drove the short distance to his little ghetto apartment behind the malls, my heart was pounding and I was getting moist at the possibilities...I had no idea how it was going to play out or what I would do next, but I knew to just trust my instincts!
Once we got there, he said he didn't have any gas money, but if I wanted to come up to his apartment we could smoke a joint as payment for the ride! LOL, well there was my opportunity, right? Now, I DO NOT smoke pot, only once in college before a Dave Matthews concert (sigh, yes how very white of me). But I saw this as an opportunity to “innocently” go up to Boog’s apartment, so I immediately put on my best shocked white girl expression…
“You’ve got pot? Oh, I totally shouldn’t, but…"
(expectant pause, Boog’s pleading eyes)
“Oh what the heck?!?”
And just like that, we’re out of my car and bounding up the steps to his little roach motel apartment…just a little one bedroom efficiency with a living room/dining/kitchen combo area and tiny bathroom off to the side…it was every bit as cluttered and dirty as I would’ve expected, and smelled like the damp mildewy dishrooms he worked in. In all those times taking him home and picking him up, I had never seen the inside of this place. He offered me a spot on the couch and I tried not to think about the stains on it as I sat down.
For your visual imagery, part II: I was wearing a big sweater than came down past mid-thigh with black leggings underneath, with little boots. But what no one knew was that these were some super-cheap leggings I had bought from the dollar store that I had changed into after leaving my fam and going out on my own…I was wearing no panties underneath and had begun fraying at the seam over the crotch so that my pussy was exposed. Ah the cool air hitting my clit and moist lips when I walked and none of those people I passed in the mall had any idea! Boog didn’t know either…yet!
He got out his ‘gas money’ joint and lit it up. Now understand, I had no desire to really become intoxicated, so I did this little trick I do in situations like this: I just put it to my lips and pretended to puff. Boog was looking me up and down, watching my chest rise and fall, so he really wasn’t aware that much like our 42nd President, I was NOT inhaling! LOL, I do this with drinks guys buy me in bars or give me at parties: put it to my lips, maybe swish it around in my mouth a little before slyly spitting it back out into the glass.
Wanting to further break the ice with Boog a bit, I dialed up one my standard old tricks as we passed the J back and forth:
“Dang, these boots sure make my feet hurt,” I whimpered, fiddling with my shoes. “I’ve got to take them off…”
And so I slipped my boots off and rubbed my tired feet together…I stretched out a bit on his couch, so that my wiggling toes were just short of his lap. He cut his eyes down to stare at them, and while I didn’t know if Boog was a foot guy or not, I found that MOST guys were if it meant getting their hands on me!
“You know,” I continued coyly. “If you REALLY wanted to re-pay me for the ride, you would rub my feet!”
Boog seemed a little confused; I think in mind he already WAS re-paying for the ride with the pot…but then he shrugged his shoulders and pulled my feet up in his lap to rub them. I moaned somewhat suggestively as he began, urging him to “oh yeah! Do it harder...”
So I was going to let this play out like I have before: moan and groan at Boog’s foot massage for awhile, maybe let one foot eventually drift down his lap to his crotch, and…
“HEY!” Boog suddenly exclaimed, snapping me out of my planning. “You want to do a shotgun?!?”
OK, he was throwing me a curve-ball. Boog was clearly more interested in getting me high than rubbing my feet. Now, I did go to college and totally knew what a shot-gun was…but had no idea how to do one, and told him so…
Boog assured me it was be a blast and immediately tossed my feet aside (dang it!) and positioned himself directly across from me, facing me and leaning very very close to me…I gasped as he leaned down as I thought he was going to kiss me. But instead stopped just short to put the joint between his lips to blow into my mouth. OK, now THIS was going to be much harder to fake, but I did manage to blow out some air as he was blowing in, keeping a portion (but not all) of the devil smoke out of my lungs.
But the best part of course was his big ugly face mere centimeters from mine…I reached up to grab the back of his head and pressed my boobs firmly against his chest…my eyes were trying to cross he was SO close, but I gave him my best and deepest “come fuck me” stare as we exchanged carbon dioxide.
Finally, I had to pull away in a coughing and hacking fit. I felt very light-headed and don’t know how much was due to the weed and how much was due to the fact I was alone with and in the close physical proximity of another black man, and things were clearly escalating a bit. I mean, the weed was probably a part of what was making my head spin, but what was causing my nipples to go rock hard and my pussy to moisten?
“Now you do me!” Boog exclaimed cheerfully.
LOL, OK…sounds good! Exactly what I had in mind!
He was sitting upright on the couch and I immediately crawled up in his lap and straddled him, causing his eyes to get big in surprise. I said that yes, I was definitely READY TO DO HIM now! He looked confused, and I continued by saying that was my first time being the shot-gunNEE and this would be my first time being the shot-gunNER as well…and that I probably should take a practice run first…
The joint was smoldering in the ashtray beside the couch instead of between my lips, as I S L O W L Y leaned down, once again smashing my boobs against his chest and stopping only when our faces were so close our noses and lips were nearly touching…
“So all I do is inhale, and then blow it back in your mouth…?” I whispered my voice husky with lust. “Like this…?
And I blew my breath into his open mouth…a slow and steady stream, our lips grazing slightly…and I continued, looking him right in the eyes as I did, a knowing smile beginning to creep across my face, and then his as well… my tongue eased forward to lick my lips, which of course also licked his as well, given their closeness…I felt his fat slug of a tongue creep forward to meet mine; they danced together very briefly before I moaned and collapsed down on him, my perfect pink lips melting onto his fat purple ones…
We began to make out passionately, and just in case Boog didn’t ge the message, I also began grinding my pussy down on his crotch. OK, THERE was that hard lump I remembered from hugging all that time ago! I was grabbing at the back of his head as we sucked face and tongue-wrestled, his hands slipping up inside my sweater and rubbing up and down my back…
Suddenly he shifted us to the side, spilling me out of his lap onto the couch with him just quickly on top of me and between my legs! Oh my! I squealed into his mouth and hooked my legs together around his chubby waist and continued to grab onto the back of his head and now his shoulders and back as we continued making out…
His hands moved from the back to the front and he pushed my sweater up just under my chin. I felt a tug and my bra popped open, freeing my breasts. The air on my now exposed nipples felt tremendous and he immediately began roughly kneading them and twisting my nipples…he leaned back and looked down, his eyes traveling hungrily across my exposed torso and breasts…and then down to my crotch, where he finally saw the split in the front of my leggings and my pussy that was beginning to peek through..
His eyes widened at the sight of this, then glazed over. I thought for sure he was going to finger me, but instead he fell back down upon me, once again covering my mouth with his…and when he did reach down between us, it wasn’t to finger me but instead to rip open the zipper of his pants…
OK, now before I go any farther, let me assure you of something:
No matter how this next part seems, I was in total control of this situation.
Really, I was. I’ve been enough scenarios like this with black guys to know how to handle myself, and its been my finding that an assertive woman has more control than perhaps she realizes. I’ve had to re-direct over-aggressive black fellas before and even stop the action if they weren’t responding. I can count exactly one guy who I thought was going to try to force things and man-handle me…and all it took was a strongly-worded threat of having him arrested for **** to stop him in his tracks. (I have used that a couple times as much as I hate to)
So yeah: I was in control. But I could tell that Boog wasn’t going to be much of a tender romantic lover, and to be honest: that was OK.
Actually, more than OK; it was exactly what I wanted at that moment. I wanted him to twist my nipples and roughly handle me, leave red marks on my skin, shove my legs open and jam his fingers into my wet pussy…and I wanted to feel myself struggle against him, and for him to press on, his desire for me just too strong to take ‘no’ for an answer…
So I began to wiggle underneath him, whimpering a bit, saying his name followed by a very non-assertive and weak “no…” And he pressed down on me, both with the weight of his body trapping my arms as well as his free hand across my chest, his wet smacking lips all over my mouth, face, and neck…
“St---op…” I whimpered VERY unconvincingly as I felt him finish un-doing the front of his pants and push them down far enough to fish his dick out…LOL, I swear I could feel the heat coming off it even before he brushed the head of it against my exposed pussy lips.
Once again, if I’d really wanted him to stop, he would have stopped. I have no doubt of that. As much of as a****l as he was, I was still much further up the ol’ food chain than him, both intellectually as well as general presence of authority. If I had whipped out my Bitch Mandi voice that I occasionally have to use when situations arise at work, there was no doubt in my mind he would’ve shrank away, both literally and figuratively…
But that wasn’t what I wanted at that moment. In fact, I’m glad he had my arms pinned down to keep me from giving myself away and reaching down to stroke his big black dick…as it was, I was dying to see it…but I had to settle for feeling it as he kept brushing it against my pussy lips, getting the tip of it wet as he attempted to slip it inside me…OMG, trying to wedge it in by only pushing against it (instead of spreading me open with fingers or thumb first) was MADDENING! In a good way!
I might’ve been whimpering for him to not do this, but my body was telling a different story, my hips bucking up to meet him, my pussy continuing to moisten and even flex open for him, yearning for what felt like a VERY VERY big…
Oh, the head of it slipped in!
Yep, it felt VERY VERY wide, like a soup can. My eyes flashed WIDE open as well, and it wasn’t much of an acting job to play the role of sheltered innocent white girl absolutely shocked at the feel of this fat black dick pushing itself inside her. As you might expect, Boog wasn’t much on subtlety, collapsing his weight forward and impaling a good portion (a third? Half?) of his man-hood inside me.
I gasped and once again cried out “oh no!” and “don’t” while grabbing onto him and wrapping my legs around him and pushing my pussy up to meet him. He gave his hips a few side-to-side wiggles to push his hard black dick further into me before beginning to pump himself in and out of me. Slowly and firmly at first, but quickly beginning to pick up steam…
“We shouldn’t be doing this!” I panted, and he quickly responded with: “No, its OK! Its OK!” before covering my mouth once again with his fat purple lips, presumably to shut me up LOL.
OK, now if Boog had been a real violent asshole, I would have shut him down before we’d gotten anywhere near this far. But he wasn’t. No, his tone was pleading, almost begging…and he was insistent simply because he wanted me so bad. I thought of all the young white girls Boog had worked with over the years in restaurants and surely fantasized about, the ones flirting with him in that “innocent” and safe way girls can do, hugging him and telling him how sweet he was…giving him rides home and maybe even asking him to score them weed…and I wondered how many countless times he’d wanted something like this to happen and it never ever did?
No, I knew how important this was to him and that’s what was making it even more exciting for me…
I turned my head to the side to cry out (yes, I took the Lord’s name in vain) and to tell him how BIG his dick felt, “soooo fucking BIG!”.
Boog’s face was buried in my neck, while he grunted like a silverback in heat in my ear with each thrust. He was now fucking me deep and hard, my pussy making the wettest sloppiest sounds as he pounded me, his big balls slapping against my butt. He’d dipped his arms under my legs (still pinning my arms and upper body down) and pushed them back so that my bare feet were up on his shoulders on either side of that ugly face of his, bouncing around with every thrust.
Finally he bellowed and convulsed…quickly followed by a massive blast of hot semen inside me. He arched his back forward one last time, burying his dick to the hilt as he emptied the contents of his balls inside me. I pressed my bare sweaty soles of my feet against the sides of his equally sweaty head, his face scrunched into a horribly ugly grimace as he drained himself…
After he was finished, I rolled his jelly-like body off me and announced that I needed to go to the bathroom. I checked myself in the mirror and was a hot mess: hair disheveled, mascara ran down my cheeks, lipstick all over my face, red marks on my neck/torso/boobs, my nipples already sore…a huge hole now ripped in the crotch of my leggings and spreading, my pussy lips bright pink as well from the beating it had just taken…crap, was that going to be a hickey? Luckily it was down where my neck met my shoulders and was going to be easily concealed with my sweater.
This whole encounter hadn’t taken much time, and I wasn’t quite ready to put a cap on this one yet anyway, for a couple of reasons:
1. My sense of social responsibility had set in. See, while it had been exciting letting Boog push himself on me, I just wouldn’t feel right leaving with him thinking that was the way its supposed to go with girls. What if the next white college girl he lures up to his place with the promise of weed doesn’t find him quite as arousing as I did, and really DOES mean ‘NO’ when she says it?
No, for them I needed to set him straight.
And it wouldn’t be enough for me just to tell what he just did was (technically) wrong. I mean, he might hear me and even agree…but at the end of the day, he’d gotten what he wanted and might try it again in the heat of the moment.
No, the best way to make a lasting impression isn’t in berating him…but giving him positive reinforcement. Which leads to…
2. I hadn’t come yet, and was still very horny :)
Boog jumped up when I padded out of the bathroom, with his pants now completely off. It was the first good look I’d gotten at his swinging manhood and even though it was now partially deflated, I saw that ‘soup can’ was a pretty good description. And not a regular can, but one of those bigger cans of “Chunky” LOL. I couldn’t let the impressive sight of it distract me, even when he approached me and began begging me not to go just yet…to stay for awhile, nodding at the couch and implying there would be more action.
I stopped him and told him firmly that what just happened was NOT cool, that he couldn’t just go around forcing himself on girls when we say “NO”…he hung his head and apologized, and I could tell he sincerely meant it and felt badly…which was a good sign, but still not good enough. I told him it wasn’t right for him to just plunge forward without even asking about protection. I mean, I was on the pill, but what if I hadn’t been? He didn’t even ask before releasing millions of little semi-retarded Boog sperm to swarm and attack my poor defenseless egg…I could feel them now, swimming around (very slowly) inside me!
Boog kept apologizing sincerely and even said he was “sorry that I didn’t like it”…
“Oh, I liked it…” I said, my voice shifting from berating authority figure to more of a husky seductive tone. “In fact, I liked it A LOT…” My voice trailed off and I put my hand on his upper thigh, dangerously close to his fat slug of a black dick, still gleaming and sticky with my pussy juice. I licked my lips thinking of how that big purple monster might taste and I saw Boog looking at me looking at it.
“But, you should’ve ASKED me first,” I continued, dragging my fingertips lightly up his thigh. “Seduce me a little bit, get me into first. Give me a chance to and a REASON to say “YES”…”
“We didn’t even take our clothes off…” I said, motioning towards my ripped leggings I still wore and his over-sized white T-shirt (which smelled of a restaurant dumpster)
“You didn’t even eat my pussy, Boog…” I said, my voice slipping down further into a husky sexy register.
His eyes darted over to me in surprise, and I gave him a hint of a smile and raised eyebrow.
“I WILL!” he quickly said. “I will eat yo’ pussy, right now if you want me to!”
“What did I just tell you?” I quickly interjected. “ASK me…”
“Oh yeah!” his said, his eyes flashing like a k** who just got a question right in class. “Will you please let me eat your pussy? Please ma’am?”
Nice!
“Well….I really shouldn’t…” I responded coyly. “BUT…since you DID ask so nicely…”
Boog was clearly trying to contain himself from coming at me like he was shot out of a cannon like he did the first time, and entered my personal space with restraint.
“Take my clothes off first…” I whispered, then helped him lift my sweater off, followed by arching my hips so that my leggings slid off and to the floor. He reached for my exposed nipples and I reminded him to “be gentle” as he began squeezing my breasts and kissing my neck in a much more relaxed manner than before.
His lips shifted down to my breasts and he began licking and sucking at my nipples, causing my back to arch and a cry to escape my lips. I guided his fingers to my clit and my wet hole, and he began fingering me while he sucked my nipples and OH WOW my body was beginning to rattle and hum. I may have taken the Lord’s name in vain again. OK, a few times…
Finally he kissed/licked his way from my boobs down my flat tummy and to my thighs…
“May I please eat your pussy now, ma’am?” he asked again for good measure and I couldn’t help but smile down at him and pat his polite head.
“Oh YESSIR you certainl…” and that was all I got out before his fat tongue touched my clit and my whole body convulsed.
To no surprise, Boog wasn’t a particularly skilled pussy-eater…but that’s OK I’m more than fine using my hips to wiggle my clit against his mouth as needed and basically hump his face to get my own pleasure from him.
And it was quite a sight to look down and see Boog’s ugly face pressed against my pussy! Back in the day I never thought I’d ever see that happening!
At some point I’d shifted us around so that I was over him and grinding my pussy down on his face. I looked down at his big black dick, no longer lying limply against his thigh but beginning to inflate again and stand out on its own from his body.
“Boog…” I panted. “Aren’t you going to ask me to suck your dick?”
“NuK Ny Nick…” he grunted through a mouth full of pussy lips, and to be honest I wasn’t even waiting for a reply, already snaking myself down across his fat belly towards his dick. I gripped it by the base, massaging his giant hairy balls and inspecting the giant head and veiny shaft just inches from my face.
“SO FAT!” was my last thought before opening my lips and placing them around the thick purple head.
And there it was: that flavor. The wonderfully musky roast beef flavor of a strange black dick I’d never sucked before. I couldn’t help but moan as that salty flavor swirled in my mouth and I savored his tastes and the smell of his crotch, coated with the familiar flavor/scent of MYSELF on him down there…
I shifted so that we were truly 6-xty-9ining, my body squirming as I rode his face and sucked greedily on his delicious giant black dick. We had a nice long 6ixty-9ine session, waves of pleasure coming and going between us, me occasionally burying my face in his crotch to suck his big balls while I played with his taint and even butt-crack. And yes, of course I managed to slip in a “Mandi-Pedi”, sliding off his face while directing him to finger me while I rubbed my feet all over his face and asked, no pleaded with him to suck my toes. When he did so, I rewarded him by sucking as much of his soup can dick into my mouth to return the favor.
Finally, I slid off his face and down his body to quickly finish taking his pants the rest of the way off, as well as his sopping wet (from the dishroom) white socks…and yes I couldn’t help from burying my face against his smelly sole of his foot and look directly at him while I briefly sucked his big ugly toes deep past my pink lips. LOL, he sure wasn’t expecting THAT!
I straddled his waist, his black dick now at full attention and throbbing against my lower belly…I motioned towards his white T-shirt and he quickly ripped it off. We were now finally both totally naked and I leaned down towards him, my blonde hair hanging down around his face as I once again got nose-to-nose with him and whispered:
“Is there anything else you’d like to ask me right now?”
“Yeah…” he grunted, nodding his head violently. “Put it…take it…can you…would you…please…”
LOL, I felt bad for him and appreciated his speechlessness.
“Do you want to put it in me?” I whispered in his ear, my breasts pressing against his sweaty chest while I arched my hips causing my pussy lips to press up and down the length of his shaft, teasing him.
“Do you want to fuck…?” I asked, and to no one’s surprise he once again nodded eagerly…especially when I punctuated that last word with an especially pronounced hip thrust.
So with that I reached down to both steady him and open my lips up just a bit…before sliding myself down S L O W L Y on his girth.
Once again, it wasn’t much of a stretch of my acting ability to imagine myself an “innocent” (OK, that might have been a stretch) white girl SHOCKED at the sensation of this massive fire hydrant of a Negro penis I was currently sitting on…
I began riding him SLOWLY, grinding my hips down and back-and-forth and side-to-side and all around in circles, etc…really putting on a show for him while he just laid there with a stunned expression, his eyes moving from my swaying breasts to my smiling lust-glazed face and down to my pink pussy lips stretched to the max around his black pole (LOL, I was looking down at that, too)
“Isn’t it so much better this way than the first time?” I asked him and he once again nodded his head so enthusiastically I thought it might pop off. To be honest, I thought both the first way AND this way were both equally fine and had their time & place…but I needed him to think asking a girl was better than just taking it…
I rode him for a nice looooong session, alternately gripping big handfuls of his flabby chest, then down to his shoulders, then down to kiss passionately while I slammed down hard, my thighs and butt making slapping sounds. Then sitting back upright, massaging my own boobs and nipples…rinse/lather/repeat.
“You want to watch it from behind…” I asked, already shifting myself around before he could answer. Now riding him facing the other way, his hands all over my butt while I grinned back over my shoulder at him. Then turning to hold onto his thighs while I gyrated up and down on him, staring at his ugly feet and his toes clenching and unclenching. Me wishing I had something, ANYTHING in my mouth while I rode him...another black dick would have been fantastic, but even those gnarly toes of his would've done the trick. I settled for grabbing his hand and suck his fat fingers instead.
Finally I slid off him, my legs like jelly and exhausted from riding. I peeked back over my shoulder at him, then down to my backside, then motioned him towards me…
“You…want…doggie…?” I managed to pant, and he was soon behind me, mounting me. And there we were, me on my hands and knees on his crusty shitty carpet while he began fucking me from behind.
“Rough…like it rough,” I grunted. “Pull…hair…!”
And he did, grabbing a handful of my blonde hair and fucking me hard as instructed, followed by slapping my ass and grabbing rough handfuls of my breasts. Eventually my knees gave out and I was flat on the floor, my face pressed into that unspeakable and horrible-smelling carpet while he treated me like road construction and “black-topped” me :)
We tried a spooning position, but by that point my pussy was officially entering sore and dry stage. I had gotten off twice: once during 6ixty-9ine and once while I was riding him, and there just wasn’t much left down there at this point. I gently told him this, telling him we needed to stop because he’d “wore me out”, which made him beam proudly!
I positioned him on one of the couch in a sitting position and stretched out beside him, intent on finishing him off with my hands and mouth. He had a great view of my entire body as I lay on my side, boobs, butt, legs and feet as I rubbed them together behind me playfully.
“Like what you see?” I asked him with a smile and he nodded, slowly this time as his eyes traveled all over me. And then I dipped my head into his lap and got to work!
It took him awhile to come, first me sucking slowly as I once again savored all the flavors of my pussy and orgasms that coated his big black dick. Playing with and later sucking on his balls, rubbing his taint and butt-crack while he reached down to rub my boobs and butt as well. Things later intensified as they usually do, me jacking him more and more…him later helping out by holding onto my head so he could buck his hips and fuck my mouth…
Things ended with both of our hands on his dick and jacking while I sucked on his fat purple plum of a dick head. He finally squirted into my mouth and then convulsed, his dick pulling out of my lips and finishing coming all over my face…afterwards I THANKED HIM (!) for the great sex and excused myself once again to the bathroom to get dressed and re-make my face and hair best I could. I left my ruined dollar store leggings in his trash and slipped back into the name-brand ones I’d left the house in the morning and kept in my purse.
Before I left, I reminded him quite emphatically that NO ONE, and I mean NO ONE, could ever find out this happened! He nodded his head slowly and said he understood.
“Especially that first part…” I continued with emphasis. “I wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble for how that all happned…”
His eyes got big and he once again started apologizing and BEGGING me not to tell anyone…I said that I wouldn’t, as long as he didn’t tell anyone either.
(See what I did there?)
Anyway, I made it home late only to find my family still up playing cards. I didn’t join them, saying I was totally exhausted, which was totally true. After all, we all know a long BLACK FRIDAY can be a very draining day, right? :)
Have a happy _______!
Late,
Mandi
Hope you are all gearing up for a merry Christmas or happy holiday or delightful Hanukkah or bangin' Kwanzaa or drunken Festivus or maybe just jacking/jilling off to porn here on hamster! Whatever it is you do, I hope you enjoy doing it over this holiday weekend!
So I’m going to time-jump on you all once again. Instead of following the sequence of “what happened next?” after my story about my partner-in-crime Katie, I want to tell you about something that happened just a few weeks ago…Thanksgiving weekend, in fact and more specifically:
BLACK FRIDAY!
Let me preface this by letting you know I have established a fun little tradition of having a quickie fling with a random black dick every year on BLACK FRIDAY…simply because of the wonderful name of that day. I also have some similar fun traditions on Halloween (costumes! Masks!), and remind me to tell you sometime what I do to celebrate Black History Month! ;)
I go back home (a couple hours away) to visit my family on Thanksgiving and usually spend the weekend. I typically hit the malls on FRI, sometimes with family and sometimes with friends and sometimes by myself. But either way, I try to find an opportunity to sneak in some fun, usually by telling my family I’m going out with friends or telling friends I’m going out with family. The first time was after dinner with friends on my way home, stopping by a black friend’s house for a quick oral/foot thing (long story there, and unfortunately that’s one back story I’ll probably have to keep to myself :( )
ANYWAY, the following year I was back in town and reflecting back on that encounter…I started getting a little worked up thinking about it and decided to see if I could re-create it with someone else, and…wah-la! A tradition was born! Now it saddens me a little to say that I look forward to my Black (dick) Friday challenge even more than spending quality time with family and friends. Does that make me a bad person? Well, maybe a little…
One of my favorite “hunting grounds” back home is this area we will refer to as: Across the River.
In my hometown, going Across the River is like traveling to Guatemala. Like many bigger towns, people live the majority of their lives within a 15 minute radius and treat going Across the River similar to space travel. There are some nice malls Across the River, so there is reason to go there a couple times a year, and you will run into some people you know on occasion…but for the most part it’s a completely different world of people. So there affords a curious blend of familiarity and anonymity…which is PERFECT for what I typically have in mind!
I’ve had some interesting Black Friday experiences and might possibly detail some of them at a later time…for right now, here is this year’s:
My fam and I hit local stores that morning, but we decided to divide and conquer in the afternoon and evening. They would hit some different local stores while I bravely volunteered to make the trek into the netherworld Across the River (“Yuck. Better you than me!” I was told LOL). This would give me plenty of time and opportunity to “hunt” at a somewhat leisurely pace!
And I had been at the first mall for all that long, maybe a couple hours, when I heard someone call out my name…
Now, this normally might throw a monkey-wrench in my plans…but then I saw who it was.
BOOG!
AKA, short for Booger, a black guy I knew from a guy I dated who managed a restaurant Across the River…
OK, longstoryshort: yes, I do occasionally date white guys. This is for maintaining a public image only; I do not have sex with them. How is that possible, you ask? Well, I have a reputation for being a “good girl” and a regular church-goer, so…I know, that’s bad of me, right? Anyway, I dated this white guy back home a couple years ago for about 8 months. We got pretty serious, to the point of me actually considering: a. having sex with him (I didn’t) and b. permanently giving up my black dick lifestyle (didn't do that either). Yes, in a moment of guilt, I actually threw away my “Little BLACK Book” of names/numbers/contact info as well as deleted any incriminating (ahem) pictures and (ahem) video clips and even my old journal entries detailing my adventures on the “dark” side. I know, bad idea, right? For even though I tried and tried and was actually good for most of the 8 months, I found myself beginning to think more and more about black dicks…to the point I finally broke down during a Lakers game and began masturbating to Kobe Bryant, later moving onto my laptop and finishing myself off here to a Wesley Pipes video.
Once that seal had been broken (so to speak), I began craving the real thing again…and even with just masturbating to images, I felt like I was cheating on the white guy anyway, so I broke it off. That was the last white guy I seriously dated for more than a couple dates in a row.
And like I said, he managed a restaurant Across the River, and I hung out with him there some. And yeah, Boog had been a dishwasher there. We’d given Boog a ride home on a few occasions. He was a sweet teddy bear of a guy, very happy and out-going and popular because of his good nature. He was a hugger and yes, I’d hugged Boog a few times back in the day…innocently, of course. ...but deep down I *knew* he was getting a little something extra out of our hugs. This was back when I was trying to be good and faithful to the guy I was dating, so I tried not to think about it. Although I totally did. I tried to push the images of him getting hard by hugging me out of my mind, tried not to picture what his dick might look (or taste) like...but it was a struggle LOL.
ANYWAY, I don't have to try to be good anymore, do I?
And the only person I have to be faithful to now is myself!
So I totally allowed myself to be swept up in Boog’s bear-hug and pressed my body full-on against his. I even slipped him a quick kiss on the cheek, just because I could. Just being all up in a black man’s personal space, sharing each other’s scents, and feeling our bodies press together caused my nipples to immediately tingle and I felt myself get a little moist…
2015 Mandi was standing a little closer to Boog than Mandi of a couple years ago would have, our legs still touching and our hands remaining on each other’s arms as we caught up on old times. He wasn’t working at my ex-‘s restaurant anymore, and in fact my ex- wasn’t even at that location anymore himself. And of course I hadn’t dated that guy in awhile…so like the town Across the River, Boog and my relationship to him was both familiar but not TOO familiar himself…just like I prefer it.
OK, so you want to visualize Boog? Well, let me just get this out of the way: he’s NOT retarded. Not even close. He is, however, what you might refer to as a little slow. Slow-moving, slow-talking, slow-thinking…but definitely not retarded or even mentally handicapped. As I recall he was mostly illiterate and a little math-challenged (had trouble keeping up with his worked hours)…but what do you expect from a professional dishwasher? No disrespect to anyone who’s held that job (I was a hostess for the same restaurant chain in college and know the struggle), but there’s a reason why Boog was washing dishes in his 40’s instead of working on Wall Street.
He was average height (5’10 or so) and slightly chubby, maybe 200+ lbs? Very very very dark skin with buck teeth and slightly crossed eyes that didn’t exactly make him look smarter. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt and baggy jeans, the same exact thing I’d always seen him wear every time I’d ever been around him. The fact his clothes were stained and wet let me know what he was still washing dishes (a fact he confirmed), in one of the restaurants there in the mall.
I asked him if he needed me to give him a ride home, you know, for old time’s sake…he said SURE WHY NOT and just like that I had a strange but familiar black man getting into my car on Black Friday, just like I had hoped for! And as we drove the short distance to his little ghetto apartment behind the malls, my heart was pounding and I was getting moist at the possibilities...I had no idea how it was going to play out or what I would do next, but I knew to just trust my instincts!
Once we got there, he said he didn't have any gas money, but if I wanted to come up to his apartment we could smoke a joint as payment for the ride! LOL, well there was my opportunity, right? Now, I DO NOT smoke pot, only once in college before a Dave Matthews concert (sigh, yes how very white of me). But I saw this as an opportunity to “innocently” go up to Boog’s apartment, so I immediately put on my best shocked white girl expression…
“You’ve got pot? Oh, I totally shouldn’t, but…"
(expectant pause, Boog’s pleading eyes)
“Oh what the heck?!?”
And just like that, we’re out of my car and bounding up the steps to his little roach motel apartment…just a little one bedroom efficiency with a living room/dining/kitchen combo area and tiny bathroom off to the side…it was every bit as cluttered and dirty as I would’ve expected, and smelled like the damp mildewy dishrooms he worked in. In all those times taking him home and picking him up, I had never seen the inside of this place. He offered me a spot on the couch and I tried not to think about the stains on it as I sat down.
For your visual imagery, part II: I was wearing a big sweater than came down past mid-thigh with black leggings underneath, with little boots. But what no one knew was that these were some super-cheap leggings I had bought from the dollar store that I had changed into after leaving my fam and going out on my own…I was wearing no panties underneath and had begun fraying at the seam over the crotch so that my pussy was exposed. Ah the cool air hitting my clit and moist lips when I walked and none of those people I passed in the mall had any idea! Boog didn’t know either…yet!
He got out his ‘gas money’ joint and lit it up. Now understand, I had no desire to really become intoxicated, so I did this little trick I do in situations like this: I just put it to my lips and pretended to puff. Boog was looking me up and down, watching my chest rise and fall, so he really wasn’t aware that much like our 42nd President, I was NOT inhaling! LOL, I do this with drinks guys buy me in bars or give me at parties: put it to my lips, maybe swish it around in my mouth a little before slyly spitting it back out into the glass.
Wanting to further break the ice with Boog a bit, I dialed up one my standard old tricks as we passed the J back and forth:
“Dang, these boots sure make my feet hurt,” I whimpered, fiddling with my shoes. “I’ve got to take them off…”
And so I slipped my boots off and rubbed my tired feet together…I stretched out a bit on his couch, so that my wiggling toes were just short of his lap. He cut his eyes down to stare at them, and while I didn’t know if Boog was a foot guy or not, I found that MOST guys were if it meant getting their hands on me!
“You know,” I continued coyly. “If you REALLY wanted to re-pay me for the ride, you would rub my feet!”
Boog seemed a little confused; I think in mind he already WAS re-paying for the ride with the pot…but then he shrugged his shoulders and pulled my feet up in his lap to rub them. I moaned somewhat suggestively as he began, urging him to “oh yeah! Do it harder...”
So I was going to let this play out like I have before: moan and groan at Boog’s foot massage for awhile, maybe let one foot eventually drift down his lap to his crotch, and…
“HEY!” Boog suddenly exclaimed, snapping me out of my planning. “You want to do a shotgun?!?”
OK, he was throwing me a curve-ball. Boog was clearly more interested in getting me high than rubbing my feet. Now, I did go to college and totally knew what a shot-gun was…but had no idea how to do one, and told him so…
Boog assured me it was be a blast and immediately tossed my feet aside (dang it!) and positioned himself directly across from me, facing me and leaning very very close to me…I gasped as he leaned down as I thought he was going to kiss me. But instead stopped just short to put the joint between his lips to blow into my mouth. OK, now THIS was going to be much harder to fake, but I did manage to blow out some air as he was blowing in, keeping a portion (but not all) of the devil smoke out of my lungs.
But the best part of course was his big ugly face mere centimeters from mine…I reached up to grab the back of his head and pressed my boobs firmly against his chest…my eyes were trying to cross he was SO close, but I gave him my best and deepest “come fuck me” stare as we exchanged carbon dioxide.
Finally, I had to pull away in a coughing and hacking fit. I felt very light-headed and don’t know how much was due to the weed and how much was due to the fact I was alone with and in the close physical proximity of another black man, and things were clearly escalating a bit. I mean, the weed was probably a part of what was making my head spin, but what was causing my nipples to go rock hard and my pussy to moisten?
“Now you do me!” Boog exclaimed cheerfully.
LOL, OK…sounds good! Exactly what I had in mind!
He was sitting upright on the couch and I immediately crawled up in his lap and straddled him, causing his eyes to get big in surprise. I said that yes, I was definitely READY TO DO HIM now! He looked confused, and I continued by saying that was my first time being the shot-gunNEE and this would be my first time being the shot-gunNER as well…and that I probably should take a practice run first…
The joint was smoldering in the ashtray beside the couch instead of between my lips, as I S L O W L Y leaned down, once again smashing my boobs against his chest and stopping only when our faces were so close our noses and lips were nearly touching…
“So all I do is inhale, and then blow it back in your mouth…?” I whispered my voice husky with lust. “Like this…?
And I blew my breath into his open mouth…a slow and steady stream, our lips grazing slightly…and I continued, looking him right in the eyes as I did, a knowing smile beginning to creep across my face, and then his as well… my tongue eased forward to lick my lips, which of course also licked his as well, given their closeness…I felt his fat slug of a tongue creep forward to meet mine; they danced together very briefly before I moaned and collapsed down on him, my perfect pink lips melting onto his fat purple ones…
We began to make out passionately, and just in case Boog didn’t ge the message, I also began grinding my pussy down on his crotch. OK, THERE was that hard lump I remembered from hugging all that time ago! I was grabbing at the back of his head as we sucked face and tongue-wrestled, his hands slipping up inside my sweater and rubbing up and down my back…
Suddenly he shifted us to the side, spilling me out of his lap onto the couch with him just quickly on top of me and between my legs! Oh my! I squealed into his mouth and hooked my legs together around his chubby waist and continued to grab onto the back of his head and now his shoulders and back as we continued making out…
His hands moved from the back to the front and he pushed my sweater up just under my chin. I felt a tug and my bra popped open, freeing my breasts. The air on my now exposed nipples felt tremendous and he immediately began roughly kneading them and twisting my nipples…he leaned back and looked down, his eyes traveling hungrily across my exposed torso and breasts…and then down to my crotch, where he finally saw the split in the front of my leggings and my pussy that was beginning to peek through..
His eyes widened at the sight of this, then glazed over. I thought for sure he was going to finger me, but instead he fell back down upon me, once again covering my mouth with his…and when he did reach down between us, it wasn’t to finger me but instead to rip open the zipper of his pants…
OK, now before I go any farther, let me assure you of something:
No matter how this next part seems, I was in total control of this situation.
Really, I was. I’ve been enough scenarios like this with black guys to know how to handle myself, and its been my finding that an assertive woman has more control than perhaps she realizes. I’ve had to re-direct over-aggressive black fellas before and even stop the action if they weren’t responding. I can count exactly one guy who I thought was going to try to force things and man-handle me…and all it took was a strongly-worded threat of having him arrested for **** to stop him in his tracks. (I have used that a couple times as much as I hate to)
So yeah: I was in control. But I could tell that Boog wasn’t going to be much of a tender romantic lover, and to be honest: that was OK.
Actually, more than OK; it was exactly what I wanted at that moment. I wanted him to twist my nipples and roughly handle me, leave red marks on my skin, shove my legs open and jam his fingers into my wet pussy…and I wanted to feel myself struggle against him, and for him to press on, his desire for me just too strong to take ‘no’ for an answer…
So I began to wiggle underneath him, whimpering a bit, saying his name followed by a very non-assertive and weak “no…” And he pressed down on me, both with the weight of his body trapping my arms as well as his free hand across my chest, his wet smacking lips all over my mouth, face, and neck…
“St---op…” I whimpered VERY unconvincingly as I felt him finish un-doing the front of his pants and push them down far enough to fish his dick out…LOL, I swear I could feel the heat coming off it even before he brushed the head of it against my exposed pussy lips.
Once again, if I’d really wanted him to stop, he would have stopped. I have no doubt of that. As much of as a****l as he was, I was still much further up the ol’ food chain than him, both intellectually as well as general presence of authority. If I had whipped out my Bitch Mandi voice that I occasionally have to use when situations arise at work, there was no doubt in my mind he would’ve shrank away, both literally and figuratively…
But that wasn’t what I wanted at that moment. In fact, I’m glad he had my arms pinned down to keep me from giving myself away and reaching down to stroke his big black dick…as it was, I was dying to see it…but I had to settle for feeling it as he kept brushing it against my pussy lips, getting the tip of it wet as he attempted to slip it inside me…OMG, trying to wedge it in by only pushing against it (instead of spreading me open with fingers or thumb first) was MADDENING! In a good way!
I might’ve been whimpering for him to not do this, but my body was telling a different story, my hips bucking up to meet him, my pussy continuing to moisten and even flex open for him, yearning for what felt like a VERY VERY big…
Oh, the head of it slipped in!
Yep, it felt VERY VERY wide, like a soup can. My eyes flashed WIDE open as well, and it wasn’t much of an acting job to play the role of sheltered innocent white girl absolutely shocked at the feel of this fat black dick pushing itself inside her. As you might expect, Boog wasn’t much on subtlety, collapsing his weight forward and impaling a good portion (a third? Half?) of his man-hood inside me.
I gasped and once again cried out “oh no!” and “don’t” while grabbing onto him and wrapping my legs around him and pushing my pussy up to meet him. He gave his hips a few side-to-side wiggles to push his hard black dick further into me before beginning to pump himself in and out of me. Slowly and firmly at first, but quickly beginning to pick up steam…
“We shouldn’t be doing this!” I panted, and he quickly responded with: “No, its OK! Its OK!” before covering my mouth once again with his fat purple lips, presumably to shut me up LOL.
OK, now if Boog had been a real violent asshole, I would have shut him down before we’d gotten anywhere near this far. But he wasn’t. No, his tone was pleading, almost begging…and he was insistent simply because he wanted me so bad. I thought of all the young white girls Boog had worked with over the years in restaurants and surely fantasized about, the ones flirting with him in that “innocent” and safe way girls can do, hugging him and telling him how sweet he was…giving him rides home and maybe even asking him to score them weed…and I wondered how many countless times he’d wanted something like this to happen and it never ever did?
No, I knew how important this was to him and that’s what was making it even more exciting for me…
I turned my head to the side to cry out (yes, I took the Lord’s name in vain) and to tell him how BIG his dick felt, “soooo fucking BIG!”.
Boog’s face was buried in my neck, while he grunted like a silverback in heat in my ear with each thrust. He was now fucking me deep and hard, my pussy making the wettest sloppiest sounds as he pounded me, his big balls slapping against my butt. He’d dipped his arms under my legs (still pinning my arms and upper body down) and pushed them back so that my bare feet were up on his shoulders on either side of that ugly face of his, bouncing around with every thrust.
Finally he bellowed and convulsed…quickly followed by a massive blast of hot semen inside me. He arched his back forward one last time, burying his dick to the hilt as he emptied the contents of his balls inside me. I pressed my bare sweaty soles of my feet against the sides of his equally sweaty head, his face scrunched into a horribly ugly grimace as he drained himself…
After he was finished, I rolled his jelly-like body off me and announced that I needed to go to the bathroom. I checked myself in the mirror and was a hot mess: hair disheveled, mascara ran down my cheeks, lipstick all over my face, red marks on my neck/torso/boobs, my nipples already sore…a huge hole now ripped in the crotch of my leggings and spreading, my pussy lips bright pink as well from the beating it had just taken…crap, was that going to be a hickey? Luckily it was down where my neck met my shoulders and was going to be easily concealed with my sweater.
This whole encounter hadn’t taken much time, and I wasn’t quite ready to put a cap on this one yet anyway, for a couple of reasons:
1. My sense of social responsibility had set in. See, while it had been exciting letting Boog push himself on me, I just wouldn’t feel right leaving with him thinking that was the way its supposed to go with girls. What if the next white college girl he lures up to his place with the promise of weed doesn’t find him quite as arousing as I did, and really DOES mean ‘NO’ when she says it?
No, for them I needed to set him straight.
And it wouldn’t be enough for me just to tell what he just did was (technically) wrong. I mean, he might hear me and even agree…but at the end of the day, he’d gotten what he wanted and might try it again in the heat of the moment.
No, the best way to make a lasting impression isn’t in berating him…but giving him positive reinforcement. Which leads to…
2. I hadn’t come yet, and was still very horny :)
Boog jumped up when I padded out of the bathroom, with his pants now completely off. It was the first good look I’d gotten at his swinging manhood and even though it was now partially deflated, I saw that ‘soup can’ was a pretty good description. And not a regular can, but one of those bigger cans of “Chunky” LOL. I couldn’t let the impressive sight of it distract me, even when he approached me and began begging me not to go just yet…to stay for awhile, nodding at the couch and implying there would be more action.
I stopped him and told him firmly that what just happened was NOT cool, that he couldn’t just go around forcing himself on girls when we say “NO”…he hung his head and apologized, and I could tell he sincerely meant it and felt badly…which was a good sign, but still not good enough. I told him it wasn’t right for him to just plunge forward without even asking about protection. I mean, I was on the pill, but what if I hadn’t been? He didn’t even ask before releasing millions of little semi-retarded Boog sperm to swarm and attack my poor defenseless egg…I could feel them now, swimming around (very slowly) inside me!
Boog kept apologizing sincerely and even said he was “sorry that I didn’t like it”…
“Oh, I liked it…” I said, my voice shifting from berating authority figure to more of a husky seductive tone. “In fact, I liked it A LOT…” My voice trailed off and I put my hand on his upper thigh, dangerously close to his fat slug of a black dick, still gleaming and sticky with my pussy juice. I licked my lips thinking of how that big purple monster might taste and I saw Boog looking at me looking at it.
“But, you should’ve ASKED me first,” I continued, dragging my fingertips lightly up his thigh. “Seduce me a little bit, get me into first. Give me a chance to and a REASON to say “YES”…”
“We didn’t even take our clothes off…” I said, motioning towards my ripped leggings I still wore and his over-sized white T-shirt (which smelled of a restaurant dumpster)
“You didn’t even eat my pussy, Boog…” I said, my voice slipping down further into a husky sexy register.
His eyes darted over to me in surprise, and I gave him a hint of a smile and raised eyebrow.
“I WILL!” he quickly said. “I will eat yo’ pussy, right now if you want me to!”
“What did I just tell you?” I quickly interjected. “ASK me…”
“Oh yeah!” his said, his eyes flashing like a k** who just got a question right in class. “Will you please let me eat your pussy? Please ma’am?”
Nice!
“Well….I really shouldn’t…” I responded coyly. “BUT…since you DID ask so nicely…”
Boog was clearly trying to contain himself from coming at me like he was shot out of a cannon like he did the first time, and entered my personal space with restraint.
“Take my clothes off first…” I whispered, then helped him lift my sweater off, followed by arching my hips so that my leggings slid off and to the floor. He reached for my exposed nipples and I reminded him to “be gentle” as he began squeezing my breasts and kissing my neck in a much more relaxed manner than before.
His lips shifted down to my breasts and he began licking and sucking at my nipples, causing my back to arch and a cry to escape my lips. I guided his fingers to my clit and my wet hole, and he began fingering me while he sucked my nipples and OH WOW my body was beginning to rattle and hum. I may have taken the Lord’s name in vain again. OK, a few times…
Finally he kissed/licked his way from my boobs down my flat tummy and to my thighs…
“May I please eat your pussy now, ma’am?” he asked again for good measure and I couldn’t help but smile down at him and pat his polite head.
“Oh YESSIR you certainl…” and that was all I got out before his fat tongue touched my clit and my whole body convulsed.
To no surprise, Boog wasn’t a particularly skilled pussy-eater…but that’s OK I’m more than fine using my hips to wiggle my clit against his mouth as needed and basically hump his face to get my own pleasure from him.
And it was quite a sight to look down and see Boog’s ugly face pressed against my pussy! Back in the day I never thought I’d ever see that happening!
At some point I’d shifted us around so that I was over him and grinding my pussy down on his face. I looked down at his big black dick, no longer lying limply against his thigh but beginning to inflate again and stand out on its own from his body.
“Boog…” I panted. “Aren’t you going to ask me to suck your dick?”
“NuK Ny Nick…” he grunted through a mouth full of pussy lips, and to be honest I wasn’t even waiting for a reply, already snaking myself down across his fat belly towards his dick. I gripped it by the base, massaging his giant hairy balls and inspecting the giant head and veiny shaft just inches from my face.
“SO FAT!” was my last thought before opening my lips and placing them around the thick purple head.
And there it was: that flavor. The wonderfully musky roast beef flavor of a strange black dick I’d never sucked before. I couldn’t help but moan as that salty flavor swirled in my mouth and I savored his tastes and the smell of his crotch, coated with the familiar flavor/scent of MYSELF on him down there…
I shifted so that we were truly 6-xty-9ining, my body squirming as I rode his face and sucked greedily on his delicious giant black dick. We had a nice long 6ixty-9ine session, waves of pleasure coming and going between us, me occasionally burying my face in his crotch to suck his big balls while I played with his taint and even butt-crack. And yes, of course I managed to slip in a “Mandi-Pedi”, sliding off his face while directing him to finger me while I rubbed my feet all over his face and asked, no pleaded with him to suck my toes. When he did so, I rewarded him by sucking as much of his soup can dick into my mouth to return the favor.
Finally, I slid off his face and down his body to quickly finish taking his pants the rest of the way off, as well as his sopping wet (from the dishroom) white socks…and yes I couldn’t help from burying my face against his smelly sole of his foot and look directly at him while I briefly sucked his big ugly toes deep past my pink lips. LOL, he sure wasn’t expecting THAT!
I straddled his waist, his black dick now at full attention and throbbing against my lower belly…I motioned towards his white T-shirt and he quickly ripped it off. We were now finally both totally naked and I leaned down towards him, my blonde hair hanging down around his face as I once again got nose-to-nose with him and whispered:
“Is there anything else you’d like to ask me right now?”
“Yeah…” he grunted, nodding his head violently. “Put it…take it…can you…would you…please…”
LOL, I felt bad for him and appreciated his speechlessness.
“Do you want to put it in me?” I whispered in his ear, my breasts pressing against his sweaty chest while I arched my hips causing my pussy lips to press up and down the length of his shaft, teasing him.
“Do you want to fuck…?” I asked, and to no one’s surprise he once again nodded eagerly…especially when I punctuated that last word with an especially pronounced hip thrust.
So with that I reached down to both steady him and open my lips up just a bit…before sliding myself down S L O W L Y on his girth.
Once again, it wasn’t much of a stretch of my acting ability to imagine myself an “innocent” (OK, that might have been a stretch) white girl SHOCKED at the sensation of this massive fire hydrant of a Negro penis I was currently sitting on…
I began riding him SLOWLY, grinding my hips down and back-and-forth and side-to-side and all around in circles, etc…really putting on a show for him while he just laid there with a stunned expression, his eyes moving from my swaying breasts to my smiling lust-glazed face and down to my pink pussy lips stretched to the max around his black pole (LOL, I was looking down at that, too)
“Isn’t it so much better this way than the first time?” I asked him and he once again nodded his head so enthusiastically I thought it might pop off. To be honest, I thought both the first way AND this way were both equally fine and had their time & place…but I needed him to think asking a girl was better than just taking it…
I rode him for a nice looooong session, alternately gripping big handfuls of his flabby chest, then down to his shoulders, then down to kiss passionately while I slammed down hard, my thighs and butt making slapping sounds. Then sitting back upright, massaging my own boobs and nipples…rinse/lather/repeat.
“You want to watch it from behind…” I asked, already shifting myself around before he could answer. Now riding him facing the other way, his hands all over my butt while I grinned back over my shoulder at him. Then turning to hold onto his thighs while I gyrated up and down on him, staring at his ugly feet and his toes clenching and unclenching. Me wishing I had something, ANYTHING in my mouth while I rode him...another black dick would have been fantastic, but even those gnarly toes of his would've done the trick. I settled for grabbing his hand and suck his fat fingers instead.
Finally I slid off him, my legs like jelly and exhausted from riding. I peeked back over my shoulder at him, then down to my backside, then motioned him towards me…
“You…want…doggie…?” I managed to pant, and he was soon behind me, mounting me. And there we were, me on my hands and knees on his crusty shitty carpet while he began fucking me from behind.
“Rough…like it rough,” I grunted. “Pull…hair…!”
And he did, grabbing a handful of my blonde hair and fucking me hard as instructed, followed by slapping my ass and grabbing rough handfuls of my breasts. Eventually my knees gave out and I was flat on the floor, my face pressed into that unspeakable and horrible-smelling carpet while he treated me like road construction and “black-topped” me :)
We tried a spooning position, but by that point my pussy was officially entering sore and dry stage. I had gotten off twice: once during 6ixty-9ine and once while I was riding him, and there just wasn’t much left down there at this point. I gently told him this, telling him we needed to stop because he’d “wore me out”, which made him beam proudly!
I positioned him on one of the couch in a sitting position and stretched out beside him, intent on finishing him off with my hands and mouth. He had a great view of my entire body as I lay on my side, boobs, butt, legs and feet as I rubbed them together behind me playfully.
“Like what you see?” I asked him with a smile and he nodded, slowly this time as his eyes traveled all over me. And then I dipped my head into his lap and got to work!
It took him awhile to come, first me sucking slowly as I once again savored all the flavors of my pussy and orgasms that coated his big black dick. Playing with and later sucking on his balls, rubbing his taint and butt-crack while he reached down to rub my boobs and butt as well. Things later intensified as they usually do, me jacking him more and more…him later helping out by holding onto my head so he could buck his hips and fuck my mouth…
Things ended with both of our hands on his dick and jacking while I sucked on his fat purple plum of a dick head. He finally squirted into my mouth and then convulsed, his dick pulling out of my lips and finishing coming all over my face…afterwards I THANKED HIM (!) for the great sex and excused myself once again to the bathroom to get dressed and re-make my face and hair best I could. I left my ruined dollar store leggings in his trash and slipped back into the name-brand ones I’d left the house in the morning and kept in my purse.
Before I left, I reminded him quite emphatically that NO ONE, and I mean NO ONE, could ever find out this happened! He nodded his head slowly and said he understood.
“Especially that first part…” I continued with emphasis. “I wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble for how that all happned…”
His eyes got big and he once again started apologizing and BEGGING me not to tell anyone…I said that I wouldn’t, as long as he didn’t tell anyone either.
(See what I did there?)
Anyway, I made it home late only to find my family still up playing cards. I didn’t join them, saying I was totally exhausted, which was totally true. After all, we all know a long BLACK FRIDAY can be a very draining day, right? :)
Have a happy _______!
Late,
Mandi
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