Shoplifting Teen becomes BBC whore (1-6 chapters)

At home, I found my parents in the family room lost in a TV program. I said hello but little more. I watched enough TV to appear social and then said goodnight and went up to my room. I cleaned up quickly, got into my robe, retrieved Bobby’s note from my handbag and cuddled into bed.

Caroline
Be at 2247 West Branch Street Wed night at seven
Do not be late
There are no alternative dates


I sat contemplating what little information was on the note. In one way is said so little, but in another it said a lot. Undoubtedly I was getting an exam from the Doctor. “No alternative dates” said that loud and clear. Arrangements had been made—it was a plan, and it was a comfort for sure.
I was elated. My world seemed on the right track for the first time since my shoplifting.
My sex felt fine, but I was still aware of the sensitivity, the strange new yearning. A touch told me my vulva lips were moist, but not nearly as tender as six weeks ago. The two of them had taken me, but both seemed almost gentle. Maybe I was just adjusting to it all.
I fell asleep as I counted the days since I had shoplifted. It had been f******n days before graduation and now it was sixty two days later. Where do you start counting from? It had been more than three months since Mallmart but who knows how long since my last period. Well this doctor could handle it, I was sure.
I got the first good night’s sleep since this all started.
The next twenty hours went so slowly. My mind was continuously occupied with the events ahead.
Everything was a conflict for me. I was so relieved and anxious to get this over, but an image of this baby growing inside me would startle me. Confusion reigned.
Ending this was so morally wrong, but having a black baby at eighteen would be a nightmare of highest order.
On one hand, doctors scared me, but on the other hand, solving this problem and the relief it would provide kept me pumped up.
To top it all off—ending this pregnancy created strong erotic conflict. I would be so relieved to no longer be pregnant, but on the other hand, I had to admit I had found being pregnant could be such a turn on and such a departure from my previous mundane boring life.
Massive confusion, but I tried to keep my thoughts on a return to normalcy and getting ready for college.
My appointment for the next evening was going to take some arranging. I had no idea how long the whole thing would take. Dad was out of town all week so he was no problem. Mother had a card party so it seemed sensible when I suggested to her that I would spend the night with Sybil. Mother thought it was a good idea. I explained we would go out to eat and see a couple movies.
I called Sybil to secure my alibi. She was fully supportive. She thought I was setting up my first overnighter with Kyle. That thought was such a turn on for her so I just let it ride. Besides, I could not come up with a better explanation.
At six the next evening I backed the Mustang out and headed toward 2247 West Branch. I had loaded the address in the GPS and was just following the clues without a thought of which direction I was headed. My mind was fully occupied other things. When the navigator said I had ten minutes to go I began to look around. It was the seediest possible neighborhood. It was a warm summer evening. Blacks were sitting out on every porch and doorstep. My concern grew and grew, but I was drawn steadily by the realization that my only alternative was at the end of this journey. Finally, the house number appeared on my right. It was a decent looking older frame house with a drive down the side. A young black guy stepped into the street and pointed for me to park down the drive in the back of the house.
By the time I had the engine stopped he had opened the door. I turned my knees outward and he took my hand to help me out of the car and up the back steps into an enclosed porch. He asked me to have a seat on a couch. As soon as I was seated, he told me that Bobbie would be right out and then went on through the room and into the main house, leaving me sitting alone.
As I looked down trying to take stock and keep my mind off of other things I realized just how short my skirt was. Why had I not looked in my mirror at home more carefully? I liked short skirts but my Dad was right, my skirts were all too short and my new little tummy made them even shorter, particularly in the front. The skirt I had on was so cute but it was way too sexy to be wearing for a doctor’s appointment.
Also, my breasts appeared much larger than normal. Maybe it was just the light, maybe it was just the way I was sitting, maybe it was guilt; but there was no question to me. My breasts had gotten much bigger and fuller.
An unwelcome but undeniable, erotic excitement welled up inside me and I went to work calming emotions that should never have arisen. Was it the scary situation, the possibility of a solution to my problem or the changes occurring in my body? Each time I looked down over my breasts and tummy a shudder passed through me.
After a couple minutes the door opened and Bobby walked in. He was dressed in a fancy outfit; very black, if you know what I mean. He was smiling broadly,
“Hey girl; I’m glad you found your way down into the hood. We’ve got to get you past these worries—don’t we? And we can do just that.”
He stood there looking at me from a distance away. I cringed a bit, tried to sit up straighter, and pull my skirt down as much as possible.
He nodded approval,
“My you look sweet young lady. Stand up there and let me have a look at your loveliness.”
I stood and he came slowly toward me, never taking his eyes off my body. Once directly in front of me he took both of my hands in his and continued to slowly look up and down my body from my eyes to my legs. He finally stopped when he got to my eyes the second or third time.
He smiled broadly,
“You are every bit as pretty as I remember, lover. Wow, are you some kind of cute.”
I shuddered. It was obvious he knew. He tightened his hold on my hands,
“How long ago Jamal nail this?”
I tried to look at him, and another wanton tremor passed through me;
“A little over two months ago.”
I replied quietly looking downward.
Just then a jolt hit me—Jamal—that was the first time I had heard his name. There was a name plate on the desk in the security office. It was about a foot in front of my nose, but I had never heard the name used. This was the name of the guy whose baby I was carrying. I shook all over. Somehow knowing his name made it all so much more personal; so much more involving. Jamal, Jamal, Jamal—it was Jamal’s life together with mine. Black and white, as mixed together as possible.
“Well you sure do look good, little girl.”
He snapped me back to reality,
“That Jamal is one good looking big black buck and he got you good. You are a beautiful blooming young gal. You look good enough to eat. Come over here.”
Bobby drew me to him, wrapped me in his arms and covered my mouth with his kiss. My arms automatically went around him and I felt my lower body reacting continuously. I was having responses I just had to deny. What he was doing created erotic tremors which passed upward in rapid succession. I could feel his erection firmly against me. He was right...I had to admit. There was a continuous yearning deep in my body that had grown to a firestorm. How could I be reacting this way in a terribly worrisome situation like this? Even in this tense circumstance I was turned on to the point of being out of control. I needed it. I was the “type” girl he had accused me of being from the beginning.
Once again he shocked me back to reality,
“Wow you feel good sugar. Anybody else get close to you or just that Jamal?
I sensed he wanted a special confession from me. Entertainment!
“Yes sir, you got me as well; remember?”
Bobby smiled broadly and wrapped me in another embrace.
“I sure do, honey. How could I forget? I just wanted to hear you say it. You and I got it on real good, didn’t we?”
I looked at him and tried to smile,
“Yes Bobby, you got me real good.”
His grin told me I had said the right thing.
He looked up and down my body again,
“You know you are one fine looking white girl and you look to be doing real good with this whole thing. Are you healthy? Are you feeling good?”
I glance at him,
“Yes. I feel ok.”
“Well you and that Jamal are producing on mighty fine little one here. Are you sure you don’t want to just go on and enjoy all this?”
I looked at him,
“Do you mean go on and have the baby?”
“Why not honey. Bobby would make you a very happy lady if you want to do the right thing with this. A white girl, young and cute as you, pregnant by a big handsome black dude, can have a good time. Bobby can make sure everything comes out right for you. There are so many people looking for a pretty black baby.
I shook my head—no! I could feel tears welling up in my eyes,
“I cannot have a baby. It would ruin my life.”
He looked at me and I could see disappointment. He hesitated as if searching for another argument for me to see the pregnancy through.
Finally a look of resignation,
“Well, let’s get you up to the front room to see the good Doctor Smith. You keep thinking about my offer and when you done talking with the doc, if you want to talk further, I can tell you more about how we make it all work out.”
Bobby led me by the hand as we walked down a short hall and into what was originally the living room.
A very black, short, bald, older man in a white lab coat was seated at a small desk. An examination table dominated the front of the room. The Doctor was introduced. He stood and walked toward me; smiled and told me to undress, put on this hospital gown, and lay down on the table.
The next ten minutes were humiliating but we were moving in the right direction. He took all my vitals, gave me what appeared to be a good physical exam and then lifted my legs into the stirrups. I tried to adjust my head a little higher and as I did I was aware of movement across the room. It was fairly dark, but I could make out Bobby seated in a reclining chair.
Just as I noticed Bobby was still in the room, the doctor entered my vagina with his lubricated fingers. I lost all interest in Bobby as the doctor began to give me an internal examination. Humiliation was gone. For the next twenty minutes he drove me wild. I expected an internal exam. I had never had one. I had been told how necessary it was in health class. I thought it would be painful. I had never expected it to drive a woman wild. I gripped the side of the table and clenched my teeth as he worked. There were two places quite deep and one high near the entrance that he found right away and then repeatedly rubbed as he examined. It took me to convulsion. I gripped the sides of the table, my legs fanned in and out as and I lost track of how many times I moaned. I was actually having one small climax followed by another as he examined me. He had to know. Was this normal?
Humiliation only returned when he finished, smiled at me, and helped me to sit on the edge of the table and I tried to collect my thoughts as quickly as I could.
Next, Dr. Smith set about examining my breasts. Without a word, he gathered the hospital gown together in front of me and moved it completely to one side as he came up beside me and began to examine first one and then the other. His examination was very thorough, first concentrating on the mass of the breast and then in turn, each nipple. I could not sit still; my young body was actually jumping up and down.
“Young lady, I am sorry for the discomfort, but I need to have a good base line on the size and condition of your breasts.”
Discomfort—what did he mean? He was driving me mad.
His head dropped very close to my chest as his attention went back to my left breast. He had no idea what was really going on inside of me. They were so sensitive and he already had me so horny in spite of all the fear and anxiety. I struggled to contain the moans.
Finally, he brought my gown around me signaling the end of my examination.
Once he was finished the whole thing became somewhat reassuring. He really seemed to know what he was doing. I felt such a relief.
The lights came up a bit and I could now see not only Bobby but two other black guys seated across the room. When did they come in? Were they in here for the complete exam? A chill passed through me. Was I on display the whole time? No one said a word.
The Doctor moved back to his desk and I followed. There was no place to sit so I simply stood facing him wrapping the hospital gown around me in the back. Not a word for some time. He made a couple notes in a file and then looked up at me with a smile,
“Young woman, first the obvious, you are pregnant as you suspected. You are in your second trimester If your wish was to terminate I should have seen you sooner. This pregnancy has proceeded beyond the point where abortion or normal pharmacology would be indicated.
You really have just two options. One is for you to come under my care and carry this baby to term. That is the one I would recommend. Bobby has told me he would be able to support you and provide what you need, if that is what you would like to do.
If you are determined to terminate, your only choice would be to go through a six weeks program with Ella. I would provide you one pill each week and at the end of that time you would come into my office for one final visit to handle a couple things.”
I looked at him; my mind was a complete mess. Terrible guilt filled my eyes with tears. Memories of how cute and lovable those little black babies were at the mall. Jamal and I would have a beautiful baby. How could I do what I had to do?
In short this decision was all about my family. I had to think about how important I was to them. I had to think about what they had planned for my future. I was their only c***d. They held me in such high regard. This was a terrible mistake; how could I ever explain a black baby to my dad—my mother—my other relatives—their friends.
There was only one outcome acceptable, and there was only one way to achieve it.
“Can you give me the pills?”
Dr Smith looked at me with a smile,
“I can make them available for you if you are absolutely certain, that is the way you want to go. These pills are expensive but I understand Bobby has a way for you to bring the costs down. Has he told you about it? Do you understand what his option entails?
I nodded,
“Yes.”
What the hell, I knew what he meant, but it was my only way back to my normal life; the only way to return to a normal role in my family.
Are you absolutely sure termination is that what you desire?”
I simply nodded yes again.
“How soon can I start?”
My heart jumped with a quick feeling of horrible remorse; those cute black babies in the mall.




PROGRAM UNDERWAY



“I took the liberty of ordering the first of series when I heard of your problem. I have it here and the remainder will be available one at a time as you need them and they are paid for.”
I was elated. I had made the most difficult decision of my life, but it was made. I could go back to living my life as before. I scrubbed all guilt out of my mind. It was like a terrible weight had been taken off my shoulders.
Dr. Smith had set the whole thing up. I could have kissed him. He walked toward me with a pill and a glass of water and I downed it just like that. After all this worry all this guilt, I was underway. How easy after all I had been through all summer.
Dr Smith went on with his instructions. They were simple,
“First, you know what you are doing is i*****l. Mention this program to no one, absolutely no one.
You are taking a powerful d**g. If you experience any problems, do not go to a doctor or hospital—get back here and let Bobby know. He will get in touch with me immediately. For you safety and mine we need this disconnect. Bobby will be our point of contact. He will know where I am at all times until this is finished.
Next, you will need to be back here every Monday, Wednesday and Friday evening until we are finished. At each visit you will be checked. About once a week, depending on your tolerance, you will get the next in the series until all six pills have been taken. Then you will have a final visit at my outpatient clinic.
Any questions; is everything understood?”
I nodded.
I was elated. I cannot describe the weight taken from my shoulders. I was euphoric. Things were underway. The doctor nodded over toward Bobby and immediately, one of the black guys who had been in the back of the room, walked over took my hand and escorted me out of the room toward the stairs. I understood my contract with Bobby and Dr. Smith, but I did not know exactly when the rest of it began. Was I simply going to get dressed and be on my way? It would be so hollow, so anticlimactic, to simply walk out and go home.
Without a word, he led me up a staircase. I was wearing just the embarrassing hospital gown, completely nude underneath. He held my right hand firmly and seemed to hurry along as I struggled to keep the back of the gown closed with my left. At the top of the steps he turned me into a room and led me across to a bed.
We stopped beside the bed where he simply lifted the hospital gown from my shoulders and pointed for me to lie down. I was completely nude. I was so thrilled that the program had started. I was on such a high. I knew full well how expensive all this was. I lay down flat on my back all the time looking at him with a smile.
An undeniable euphoric thrill started to grow deep in my tummy. I knew what was coming and I was so ready for it. I lay there, lost in thought watching him undress and get ready to fuck me.
Bobby was right about me. I was this “type “of girl. I had done the crime for a cheap thrill. I had gotten away with the crime by using my sex, and had to admit I got an intense thrill doing that. It was very scary and worrisome to find out Jamal had impregnated me, but all that stuff as well provided erotic thrills. Now, I was all set up to solve that problem and it was thrilling as well.
He was looking down with a very hungry gaze,
“I’m the guy who paid your doctor bill today and got this started little lady.”
I lay there watching, fully realizing that each time he threw a garment on the chair I went higher. I knew what was coming. I was grateful for what he had done for me. I was ready to pay my bill.
One after another my tensions and concerns had been completely replaced by undeniable sexual desire. Maybe it was my pregnancy—maybe the doctor’s examination—but I realized I was squirming in the bed over-the-top horny as I waited for him.
The last item he removed were black boxer shorts which released his phallus. He was enormous and very ready. A shudder passed through me. It was pure sexual desire. A silly thought passed by me—there was no way he could harm me. He sure could not get me pregnant and I was very experienced handling weapons like this.
He came up over me as I lay on my back, lifted both my knees into the missionary position, placed the head of his penis against me, and simply lowered onto me and into me. No pain. I was very well lubricated from the exam. A shudder went through me from head to toe—a small immediate climax. This man was part of the solution not part of the problem. I wanted him happy. He was paying my bill. He was making my return to normalcy possible.
My arms went up to encircle him, I arched upward to meet his strokes, and his climaxes came quickly and loudly. With each of his deposits into me I could feel my vagina tightening around him.
For the next two hours I paid my bill to this black man. Together we quickly set up a routine with my body. Time and time again he would finish with one climax, moan, lift up, smile down at me and then gently start again. He was so gentle, and so caring. It seemed like he was more concerned that I have a loving good experience than anything else. I responded more and more lovingly as he worked. I had to. I was lost in his sexing me.
Why in erotic moments do I always start counting? Six times he delivered massively and deeply. Six times I responded with uncontrollable convulsion and contraction.
A strange sensation started to occur each time he lifted to look down at me. A pulsing sensation would pass through my breasts. At first I thought it was because his weight was removed for a moment but about the third time he lifted I realized my breasts were damp. I was starting to lactate.
He felt it also. His lips went down and found my breasts one after the other. He moaned, looked up at me, and whispered,
“My baby, you feel so good inside and now you taste so good on the outside.”
He smiled and went back to my right breast.
He had to be aware of my arms embracing his head as he enjoyed me. I knew he had to be; I could not release him. Erotic feeling came over me from all directions. I had never paid a lot of attention to my breasts. Before Jamal, they were not one of my outstanding features, but now they were. The sensations they sent through me were completely new, wild, electric and completely captivating. I could not release his head as he enjoyed them.
At the same time, he continued to sex me. He alternated between my breasts while maintaining a gently rhythm in my vagina. Time after time the pace of his stroke would quicken, he would release my breast for a while and drive into me to provide a surge deep in my body. I would feel my vagina pulsating around him in response to all he was doing.
I lost track of everything until he finally turned me to his side.
Slowly he moved me downward until his now flaccid penis was presented to my lips. I had never touched a penis. I had actually never seen one before I saw Bobbie six weeks ago.
I have touched one now. I did everything he suggested. His pill was working to solve my problem and I was working to pay for it. It tasted strangely; wet, salty,
Our session ended when he put me on my back again, lifted my legs over his shoulders such that his quite flaccid unit could still find good depth as he delivered a final time.
Finished, he lifted from me, knelt between my legs and looked down into my eyes,
“You are one fine lover, girl. I mean it. I never had anything so good, before, by a long shot.”
He gently lay back down on my right side and I encircled his black kinky head and drew him closer to my breast.
He kissed the side of it gently and looked up into my eyes,
“You are wonderful sugar...I tell you this has been the best loving I ever had!”
He went on and on. He was sincere. An undeniable thrill passed through me. I had made love with my third big black guy. I had paid my bill as required and to beat all—he honestly thought I was absolutely great. His compliments continued for some time as he rested at my side encircled by my arms gently kissing my damp breast.
I looked down at him cradled to my right breast and was shocked at the feelings of love—true unmitigated love—that began to pass through me. I gently rubbed the back of his neck with my free hand as he suckled me like a little black c***d.
Finally it was clear he was asleep. I had made love to a complete stranger and I had been turn on every minute. I was one well sexed girl and free to go. I had paid my bill.
I slipped out of the bed leaving him breathing heavily. In the semidarkness I was unstable, but I found the hospital gown and slipped out of the room and down the stairs. The steps came down into the front hall toward the front of the house. My dress and sweater were thrown in a heap on one of the big chairs in the dark living room. No one was around and neither were my panties.
Ten minutes later I was dressed and out the back door. Thirty minutes after that I was pulling into the garage at home. The house was quiet. It was just ten. Mother was probably still at the card party. I undressed in my bedroom. My dress and sweater were unsoiled; they went back in the closet. No reason to raise any suspicions by putting anything in the wash.
I walked nude into the bathroom and turned in front of the full length mirror. Regardless of all the tension I had been under, I looked surprisingly radiant. My breasts were definitely larger, and fuller, but they were amazingly attractive. A gentle touch and a quick flashback to this evening brought moisture. My tummy was actually cute. Prior to Shoplifting I always thought I was too flat…the athletic type. Now I had an attractive little shape there.
Standing there in front of the mirror, my right hand found my sex. My blonde pubic hair had always been quite thin. Gently, my fingers spread my vulva and found my clitoris. I was wet, tender and easily opened. Previously, there was no way I could do this without effort and discomfort. I was a woman now for sure. I was a very attractive pregnant young woman. An intense feeling of satisfaction came over me. I had met the test.
The shower felt good. I washed every inch enjoying the feel of the warm water running down my body. After a long shower, I dried with a large towel and carefully dried.
Finished in the bathroom, I fixed my pony tail at the dresser, found a clean pair of white panties and tumbled into bed.
My last effort was to reach for my phone and leave a message for my mother telling her I was not spending the night with Cybil. I explained that I was really tired and needed a good night’s sleep. And, that is exactly what I got; one night of good, deep, dark, wonderful sleep. No nightmares, no erotic fantasies, just dark good sleep. The progress I had made with Bobby’s program had very positive effects right away.
I was up early the next morning dressed and ready for the world. I felt great. Things were underway and I could see daylight at the end of the tunnel; the end of the terror that had plagued me for weeks.
My work for the Wish Foundation was pretty simple. It was an all white group of older ladies that found such reward in helping the poorest of the poor. Our “customers” were almost all black or mixed. For the first time I took notice of how many overweight white women came in with biracial babies. Each time one walked through the door my heart leaped and then settled as I reminded myself that I was not going to be one of them, I was on the program with Doctor Smith.
On the other hand, I would also see the little k**s. The little half-breeds were always so cute. Each one of them raised the question for me—had I done the right thing? Bobby wanted me to keep it. He would have supported me to keep things going.
I would beat these guilty feeling out by thinking about my family, their life style, all the hopes and dreams my parents had for my life, college, marriage, their only grandc***dren....
Wednesday night came quite slowly. By the time the two days had passed I was ready for a little reassurance that things were going right. I felt fine. In fact, the little bit of nausea I had been feeling each morning had stopped; that had to be a good sign.
Dad was traveling and knowing the routine at Bobby’s place a little better, I simply told mother I was going to the mall and might catch a bite with friends after it closed at ten.
My Mustang knew the way to Bobby’s house; at least the GPS did. I could not control a euphoric feeling; I had only good things to report. I was tolerating the medicine just fine. There is no way to describe how much braver I am in my Mustang, when things are going good and I know my way.
I looked good. I had chosen another short skirt and thin blouse with a very thin bra. It was small, it offered little support, but it really emphasized my attractive breasts. I stood in front of the mirror to fix my pony tail.
This was stuff I liked to wear and I knew men liked the way I looked in it. I enjoyed the attention I got wearing clothing like this. It turned me on.
Bobby would like it and he needed a thank you from a very grateful gal who was now in a very positive frame of mind.
As I pulled down West Branch I glanced down into my lap. No question this skirt was short, even shorter than the one last Monday night; no question, I was sporting a cute little tummy, and no question my breast were much larger. I shuddered all over with a sexual energy. As this feeling passed through me I could feel a slight dampness at my nipples. I was lactating. I wondered if that was a side reaction to the powerful medicine I was taking. I made a mental note to ask the doctor.
The same young black guy with the flashlight was there to send me back along the house. Once parked, he opened the door and led me up the back steps; but this time we went straight through the back room and down the hall to the front room. The furniture had been rearranged; no exam table and in its place was a comfortable couch. Two younger black guys were seated one on either end. Bobbie was in a big lounge chair across the room.
The young guy led me to the middle of the room. He then turned and departed back outside.
Bobby greeted me with flattery,
“Caroline! Gracious girl you look good enough to eat. What a wonderful addition you make to a quiet evening. Turn around so we can see your good looks.”
I slowly turned.
The two guys across the room moved forward on the couch. They didn’t say a word, but their eyes grew wider with lust with each turn I made.
Bobbie stood up and walked toward me with a smile,
“Is the doctor here?”
I asked as I turned to meet him.
“No doctor tonight; the doctor will only be here once a week, when you get another pill, or if thing don’t go right. His house call is expensive you know. I have not heard from you so I assume things are going good; am I right?
I looked at him, not completely surprised by his comments,
“Everything seems to be going fine. I‘ve had no problems.”
With that he took my hand and slowly started to turn me again in the center of the room. The lights dimmed a bit: thank goodness. I was on display and I knew my embarrassment was clearly showing. This was totally weird. I was just eighteen, pregnant by a black guy and being put on display in front of a couple black guys who held the financial key to my returning to a normal life. I could feel my lower body responding. This display was causing little spasms and moisture.
In the background I could hear some soft Lou Rawls black music. It was the same music that was playing during my examination. Time after time Bobby slowly turned me and each time I came around the guys on the couch appeared to have moved closer. The couch hadn’t moved. It was just my mental elusion.
“Rashid and Amyl work night security over at Mallmart.”
Bobby explained.
He turned me one final time to face them directly and stopped.
“I invited them over to meet you. They think they might want to pay some on your medical bills. What do you think about that?”
I smiled at Bobby and whispered,
“I would be very grateful. Thank You”
He stopped me facing them across the room.
“It would be good if we convinced them, don’t you think?”
I struggled to look up from the floor and smile across at them,
“Thank you, for coming.”
I offered quietly.
I looked back at Bobby. He turned me to face him and I could see that he was pleased. He took both of my hands and brought me toward him,
“Let’s show them what this is all about?”
He offered as he embraced me, consumed my mouth, and drove his tongue into me.
It was like he knew me. He knew what my reaction would be. My moan was muffled only by his deep kiss.
He continued to hold me tightly in this position as his arms moved downward. His right hand dropped behind me to my bare legs and brought my skirt up in the back. His left hand found the top of my panties and lowered them down the back of my legs until they dropped to the floor. I moaned once more as he began to dance slowly again. In the semi darkness he had my best asset, bare, and fully on display for these two strangers.
I trembled from head to toe. My knees felt weak. He steadied me. I could not see the reaction across the room behind me anymore, but I knew full well what this was doing.
I stood there shaking when he released me and came around behind. His arms encircled me again and slowly he rotated me until I faced them still seated across the room. He stopped and with his right hand he raised the front of my skirt to my waist. I knew my bare sex was now on display for them. I could hear these two guys murmur something to one another.
Step by step Bobby moved me forward across the room toward the couch and the seated young blacks. I could feel the pressure of his erection firmly on my back.
“Well lads, have you ever seen anything quite so cute?”
He asked quietly,
“I’ll bet you’ve never touched a white girl on the arm let alone the pussy. Look at that; hair so soft and so thin it doesn’t even cover her. Would you like to give it a little kiss for me Rashid?”
I had been looking past them to the wall behind until I saw this Rashid drop to his knees directly in front of me. His right hand came up between my upper thighs to bring me toward him. His fingers, his lips, his tongue caressed and I convulsed in ecstasy. Bobby held my upper body against him firmly as my convulsion cause me to double forward.
Finally, Bobby pulled me away from the kneeling Rashid,
“Oh my lad, look what you’ve done. You got something started that needs attention now. Right, Caroline?”
As I tried to speak an uncontrolled moan escaped my lips. I could not say a word. This was too much.
Bobby stood me beside him and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. My skirt fell back into place. He knew the deal was well underway,
“Well guys. Bobby is going to take Caroline upstairs. I will be down shortly. For right now, just relax down here a bit.”
The show was over. Bobby turned me until I faced the door to the hall. With his arm firmly wrapped around my shoulders he led me out and up the stairs to the bedroom. I was grateful for the physical support. Erotic energy had taken over. My legs were weak.
I had already felt Bobby’s erection firmly against me. I knew he was got a real pleasure out of all this. It almost seemed like he was prolonging the inevitable. It seemed like he put everything in slow motion. He really enjoyed his work,
“Glad to hear there are no problems with that pill.”
He looked at me with a big smile as we moved across the bedroom. Why would he bring that up now?
“That Jamal sure is one handsome dude, girl. You are one beautiful young pregnant momma.”
Why would he call me that when this whole thing was to put that behind me? Had he slipped? A surge of complex emotion caused me to choke a bit. This program was underway. Why would he be selling me on how handsome Jamal was? That was obvious, but it should not matter anymore. I will most likely never see him again.
He sat down on the edge of the bed with me standing in front of him.
“Your front is a real joy.”
He continued to talk as he lifted my top. I reacted. My arms went over my head automatically.
“Oh my sugar, I sure do like these.”
He half whispered as he released my bra. He took the bra away from me quickly allowing my breast to drop freely. I know he did it on purpose. An unnerving awareness came over me.
For the first time I was really aware of how much heavier they were. My breasts felt so much bigger and fuller as he kissed one and then the other. He fondled them and brought them together to kiss them more vigorously. Shudder after shudder passed through my body. I felt erotic dampness beginning.
My arms automatically brought him to me.
A strange reaction came over me; my breasts were so sensitive, so heavy—they were an erotic product of my shoplifting. I pang of disappointed passed over me—hollow feeling, as I realized that this would return to normal with the pills.
I quickly forced myself to put it all back into perspective as Bobby pulled me closer to stand right in front of him. While still sucking my right nipple, he unbuttoned my skirt and let it fall to the floor. I was nude, my panties were downstairs somewhere.
He spread my legs one on either side of his. Both his hands went to my bare behind as he pulled me directly into him. His lips released my breast and dropped to my exposed sex. In one quick lick upward he separated me and took a firm hold of my clitoris. He looked up into my eyes while holding it tightly, and then he tugged. I moaned. He tugged, I moaned again. I was overcome. He tugged again. I moaned again and double over pulling his head in against me. No way could I let him pull that again. He released, I could not. Convulsions, contractions, spasms; completely new uncontrollable reactions over came me. My young sex had just release a torrent. His tongue started at the very bottom and came upward consuming.
“My, my sugar you taste good! You don’t want to get Bobby’s rug wet do you?”
He laughed.
He turned me so I sat beside him on the bed.
He whispered directly in my ear,
“You be a real good girl now.”
He picked up my clothes and left the room.
I collapsed backward onto the bed literally convulsing. I had lost all control. I struggled to move up onto the bed and find the sheet. Unable, I fell absolutely nude in the middle of the bed. My entire lower body was shaking with one tremor followed by another. I was gasping for breath. He had taken me somewhere I had never been and left me there absolutely wild. I was in an erotic daze. I cannot describe the pure sexual need that had taken control of me.
It was fairly dark in the room. I saw movement at the doorway. I was out of my mind, but I knew what was next. I needed it so badly. A thin very tall black male sat on the edge of the bed and whispered,
“Hey girl, I’m Rashid from the Mallmart. Bobby said you were ready for me to come up and say hello.”
He rattled on. I could tell he was really nervous.
He turned and lay down beside me. His clothes were gone and he was so ready, but clearly he was scared.
A realization came over me. Never in my life could I admit it, but I needed what he had so badly. Bobby had made sure of that. Bobby had taken me to the very edge. He had skillfully driven my erotic desires to a very pinnacle and left me perched right there, literally gasping, and waiting, with desire. He knew in this condition I would produce the results he wanted.
I reached over found Rashid arm and pulled him on top of me.
Now there was no question he was ready—very ready. I could immediately tell he was very young and inexperienced, but he was very, very ready.
I moved until he was perfectly aligned against me and then I pulled him downward forcefully bringing him into me. I felt my vagina constrict around him as an unmitigated sexual thrill overcame me.
I was ravenous. My sexual desires were out of control. I needed him, I needed this.
The program was underway. My problem would soon be behind me and if this is what was required to pay the bills, I could sure handle it. I climaxed enormously.
I lay there holding him tightly, panting into his ear. He lifted and looked down at me,
“What the fuck girl. You are out of control.”
I smiled up at his black face and gently released him allowing him to move. His stroke was hesitant, gentle and shallow. It took only ten minutes or so until he came, twelve plunges deep into me. I responded to him each time, climax after climax. He was finished. I had taken on my forth nigger.
We hugged and kissed.
He whispered softly in my ear,
“You are something. I want you to know you were my very first. Bobby told me you would be out of this world, a very good place to start. He was right. That Jamal sure did us a good one with you, girl.”
I hugged him in response. I knew what he would want to hear,
“I need you so badly Rashid, You were so very good.”
We hugged some more. I kissed him gently time after time. He kissed my breasts, my neck, and then my lips in return.
Finally, he whispered goodbye, moved out of the bed, put his clothes on in the hall and disappeared in the darkness.
This young black guy had been very young and very quick but he sure had come fully loaded and now I could sense I was as well. A quick touch told me all of what he had given me had been tightly retained deep in my body. He was young, I was young, but our bodies had responded like mature lovers and all he had given me had been deposited and sealed deeply in my vagina. Bobby’s bed did not suffer.
What was next? I sat up and turned to the side of the bed. It was completely dark now and the room had only a little light from the hall. I knew my clothes were gone. I felt good. My muscles quickly told me I had responded well to the exercise.
As I sat there a strange contented feeling passed over me. It started, I am sure, with the sexual satisfaction but it also had to do with a new understanding of the entire program which would take me back to normalcy. It was comforting to know the program was underway—all decisions were made—I had now experienced all aspects of the program—and I could handle it well.
I struggled for a moment trying to deny how turned on I had been, that for sure was not normal for a girl my age. I must be some kind of a weirdo to be in this circumstance and be like I was—and still was. I sat there on the edge of the bed looking down at my enlarged breasts and tummy and I realized I did not dare touch myself. I was already going back up the hill. How could this be? Finally, I said an audible “shucks” and let it pass from my mind. Bobby was right. I was the type of girl that needed this erotic shit for sure.
I made my way into the bathroom, washed up a little in the sink, and came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around me under my arms. I examined closets and behind doors and in the dark I could find nothing to wear. I stood up nude and moved toward the hall and the bathroom.







REASSURANCE



As I came down the stairs I could hear the Lou Rawls’ music and some quiet conversation and laughter coming from the front room. I moved along the hall in the dark. The lights were low in the front room. It took a minute adjust. The two young black guys were gone and two white women were here. One sat on the couch with Bobbie the other in a big chair.
Bobby got up as soon as he saw me enter and turned me back toward the hall where he handed me my skirt and blouse from a chair. He took my towel while I slid into my clothes.
“Bobby, do you know where my panties are? I might need them.”
He smiled
Not right now lover, there is too much on my mind to think about panties. You are a very special lady. I have a couple people here I want you to get to know before you go.”
With that he turned me toward the front room.
“Hey ladies, let me introduce you to Caroline. Caroline is a very special girl with a little bump problem you understand.”
He turned to face me,
“Sugar, these ladies are very close with me here. They help with all kind of things. I want them to catch up with you and what’s going on. For starters, tell them why you’re down here in the hood getting help from Bobby.”
I stood there in silence.
Humiliation came over me. I just had to assume they knew everything. Bobby just wanted the entertainment of listening to me tell them. I could feel dampness down between my upper legs. This skirt was so short; my blouse was so thin; it was embarrassing to stand in front of women in this condition; much more so than men. They knew where I had been and Bobby had most likely told them all about me.
Bobby looked at me sternly. I could tell he was really into this.
“Well let’s go Caroline. I want you to tell these ladies what you did and why you are here. They are on my team. No secrets at Bobby’s place.”
I could feel my face turning red. I needed Bobbie happy. He was the key to everything. If he got pissed at me, I was really out in the cold. If this was the entertainment he wanted, I had to oblige.
Step by step, I stood there and told the story; shoplifting, paying with sex to avoid jail, pregnancy; and even how I was helping to pay for it. Nothing I said seemed to surprise them, but I could sense the excitement. They were enjoying my story, my plight. I was entertaining them for sure.
As I finished Bobby got up and came over to point me to the straight chair by the desk. The next twenty minutes were surprising.
Bobby introduced the ladies. Donna and Nancy were both in their mid-thirties, married with c***dren. Both were nurses. Both knew Dr Smith and used him as an OBGYN. Bobby had asked them to stop over tonight to meet me and check up on things. What a good idea. The whole thing just made sense and it made me feel great.
Nancy got up and asked me to follow her down the hall. Once we were seated in the back room she asked me a series of question about how I was responding to the pill. In short I told her; no nausea, no fever, some tiredness, some tenderness, lactation, and still some additional swelling in the tummy.
She offered me encouragement. Assured me that this program worked well, nothing I had reported was unusual; all seemed to be right on track. She asked a couple questions about what I was eating and my weight gain. She then reconfirmed if I had any concerns or questions I should get a hold of Bobby.
Finished with the clinical part, we started to talk like friends for a while.
She confided that she had met Bobby when she needed the same program, and she had agreed to the same form of payment because she had to keep it all from her husband. She was very pleased with the outcome.
She went on to tell me Donna’s case was the same. Donna had been practically a newlywed when she got pregnant by a black coworker. She had come to Bobby for help and everything had worked out fine.
They had both become attracted to Bobby and his crazy (her word) life style. It was such a contrast to the boring existence they had at home. They came here often to help Bobby with things.
I felt very encouraged when she finished.
The fact that they had found Bobby so exciting they had continued to come down to see him, was scary but understandable. It explained some feeling of mine that were scaring the shit out of me. There were moments when I felt like I was becoming addicted to this.
I confessed some of these feelings to Nancy after watering them down considerably. She smile,
“Caroline no one understands better than I do. He is an exciting guy and I will tell you he thinks the world of you. So enjoy.”
As we returned down the hall toward the front room I could clearly here muffled sounds from upstairs. Donna was missing. When I asked about her, Nancy just smiled and continued down the hall. I knew immediately what was going on. I just returned her smile. It was a confirmation that we both understood the attraction and addiction of Bobby’s place.
Nancy said good night and headed up the stairs.
Bobby took me by the hand over toward the couch.
“Well little lady how do you feel about it all?”
I looked at him and smiled,
“I am so relieved I can’t tell you. Thank you for having her come here and talk to me. It was reassuring to talk to another woman. She confirmed how lucky I am to have your help. I’m so grateful you are here for me.”
I know I was rattling on a bit euphoric, but I really appreciated the reassurance Nancy had provided.
While I was talking Bobby had sat down and brought me down to sit straddling his lap, facing him. With the short skirt I knew things were completely on display for him. He lifted my top and I willingly raised my arms as he removed it. My bare breasts were positioned right where he had full access to them. He consumed my right nipple. Immediately, I moaned uncontrollably as my arms encircled his head to bring him to me. He literally began to nurse my nipples one after the other as he held both breasts tightly together. Dampness told me I was lactating freely. His shirt was open. His grip got firmer and I watched as my free breast would literally spray his black chest as he consumed the other one. He worked feverishly, first with one and then the other. Back and forth his hands and his enormous lips worked and my breasts responded with a surprising quantity. For the first time, I was amazed at how large and dark my nipple had become.
Finally, he pulled back still holding both breasts firmly,
“I think you need more loving little lady. That young Rashid just did not get the complete job done. Am I right?”
I looked at him and nodded.
He smiled.
“Girl, I asked you a question. Am I right, you are still a horny little bitch?”
I pulled him toward me and told the truth,
“Yes Bobby. I am. I need more. I need you.”
I could tell as his expression changed, I was saying exactly the right thing.
It was so easy. I lifted up from his lap. He reached down between us to lower his athletic shorts and guide me as I settled down onto his enormous erection. I was so lubricated from what he had done earlier and then Rashid; he smoothly went to the limit inside me. I sat impaled on him holding him tightly to my breasts. I could feel my vagina jumping constricting on him. I could feel him responding. His big black hands brought my breasts solidly to each side of his face. I could see my lactation flowing freely down his neck on either side.
One hand on each, he lifted my breasts to the limit—held them there as he smiled at me—then let them drop heavily. I moaned loudly and grabbed to bring him to me. I held him tightly caught in the ultimate ultimatum. It was a sensation I will never forget. I did not want that to happen again—I needed that attention so badly.
My body needed more, much more, but I realized he could not move with me sitting there binding him to me, it was all up to me.
He moaned out loud as I finally realized I need to release him. One more time he lifted my breast, but not nearly so high. He let them drop and I clung to him as I went to work.
In the next twenty minutes I learned what a wonderful position this was for a woman. Sitting astride him he had complete access to my sensitive swollen breasts while, with just the slightest changes in direction I could put the pleasures down below right where I wanted them; right where the doctor had been during the examination.
For ten minutes I consumed him as he sat very still, repeatedly lifting and dropping my breasts while letting me work. I climaxed five times and on the fifth he unloaded upward. What wonderful sensation; I knew right where he was, I had put him there; so each time he pumped he hit exactly where he should. I was his woman; I was taking his loading right where I wanted it, directly against my cervix. A strange possessive euphoria came over me as I worked on top of him.
As we were finally finishing, I became aware of movement across the darkened room. Amyl and Donna were sitting quietly. How much they had seen I did not know; I really did not care. I only knew I had found something very special with Bobby. For the first time I used a man to achieve exactly what I wanted and needed.
I struggled to stand and I reached to bring Bobby to his feet.
Once standing, he helped me put my blouse back on and together we walked toward the back door. I could feel my heavy breasts moving with each step. His dropping routine had made them so sensitive.
My blouse became damp and cool. He refused to give me my panties, but he embraced me and gave me an enormous deep kiss at the door.
I walked out into the cool night aware, once again aware of the sounds and sights of numerous black faces moving about the hood.
My car seemed strangely empty.
The trip home provided time to think. It was amazing how far I had come. My body had adjusted in so many ways and now my mind was adjusting as well. I was lost in the excitement of this situation. I had to admit it. I was a different woman. I looked down at the obvious tummy bump and a strange confused feeling passed through me.
I walked in from the garage to find mother sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee. I was alarmed. It seemed she was looking me over from head to foot as I moved across the room. I was so nervous. My panties were with Bobby and I sure needed them now for security. It is such an exposed feeling without panties, but a feeling I had grown to know quite well.
“Honey, that skirt and top are way too small for you. Don’t wear that outfit again. Have you checked your weight recently? I really think you have gained. Maybe it is your time of the month. We have got to buy you some new things this weekend. We would be embarrassed if our friends saw you dressed like this.”
Mother just went on and on.
I responded with only positive comments and took a glass of milk to sit at the table which would hide me a little. Mother started to talk about Kyle. Her questions were normal, but I could tell she was probing to determine if we had been more intimate. My mother is such a sweet lady, very conservative, very white, and very naive. If she knew even half of what had come into my life it would kill her. I ended the conversation with a very noncommittal comment,
“Ever since we graduated, Kyle and I have drifted apart a bit. We both think it is best as we are headed off to college in a couple months.”
I could see relief on my mother’s face as I turned and headed for my bedroom.
I used the toilet and was again amazed at how my lower body had changed. Rashid and Bobbie had both loaded me, I mean really loaded me, but for the most part, even now, every sperm they had deposited seemed to be tightly sealed inside me. My climaxes and contractions had stopped any escape. I could tell I was very tight.
After a good warm shower I crawled into bed. I was thinking two things—I had read that pregnancy makes a woman much more easily stimulated—and I was amazed at how I had learned to use that enormous phallus of Bobby’s to take care of my needs so efficiently. I was contented, relaxed, and tired.
Sound sleep came quickly and Thursday morning came early.
I felt great. I went to the charity to work as normal. Things were good. My program was underway and running smoothly. Paying for it was the big surprise. As I did the mundane chores at Wish Foundation I more and more realized how much I actually looked forward to returning to the excitement of Bobby.





BOBBY AGAIN


My Mustang took me to West Branch Street faithfully the next Friday night as required. I was ready to go. My life at home was quite a drag compared with the attention I was given here in the hood. I got more excited with each mile I drove. There were so many complex thing associated with coming down here. Every one of them scary, but the positive answers were here as well. I was jumping around inside as I drove back behind Bobby’s house.
The same young black met me and took me into the house. We went directly back to the living room. It was quite dark as usual. Bobby greeted me there and reintroduced Amyl who I had met on a previous trip down. Bobby and I sat down on the couch together and I got a question and answer period with him. I was a big embarrassing with another black male sitting there listening but I had nothing new to report; I felt great. There were numerous things that had popped into my head during the week—little doubts and such, that I might have mentioned had we been alone. I did report my mother thought I was gaining weight. Bobby smiled and acknowledged that some weight gain was normal. He asked a couple questions and actually made notes for his follow up discussion with the doctor.
All told we only talked for ten minutes. Amyl being there had stifled the conversation for sure, and Bobby was obviously in a hurry. My check-up was not the main event.
Finished with the conversation Bobby left Amyl down watching a basketball game while he took me up to again vandalized my clitoris. What he did can only be described as erotic magic nothing less. Like before he gently removed my skirt and blouse then turned me to face the bed. As before he sat on the edge of the bed, drew me to stand directly in front of him and then consume me. Like Wednesday night, his tongue came up along my lips parting them until he drove his tongue into my body, time after time. It ended when he came all the way up to literally consume my clitoris between his lips and teeth. I moaned. He seemed to redouble his effort as I double over with a climax to end all climaxes. He drew in harder and harder. I moaned louder as I bent over him convulsing and climaxing again and again. I looked down watching my breasts lactate freely into his kinky black hair without being touched. Just this arousal was causing me to flow freely.
Finally, he released me and came up to draw on my right breast to the point it seemed he had consumed it entirely. He held it looking up into my eyes while I drained as he desired. I knew this time exactly what he was doing. I knew what to expect. I could not stop shuddering with an anticipation I wanted to deny.
When he finally had me exactly where he wanted me, he stood up, leaving me seated on the edge of the bed. As expected he walked out leaving the door open and the lights turned down. We both fully understood what was next and we both knew I was ready. I made no effort to find the sheet as I fell backward onto the bed. I lay nude, flat on my back. I could not keep my legs still. I could not stop my lower body from jumping around.
Almost immediately, Amyl came into the room just as Rashid had on Wednesday night. He was undressed when he entered. He came to the bed and crawled on top of me. My legs automatically spread outward and upward to his bidding. Right away it was evident, he knew much more about he was doing than Rashid.
He had sort of a sinister look,
“Bobby told me to get up here—that you were ready for plenty of loving. Is he right?”
I looked up and quietly whispered,
“Yes!”
I pulled him downward toward me.
He began to lower himself onto me, he smiled,
“Girl, I tell you with all that noise he had you making up here, I had to wonder...”
That was the last thing Amyl said Friday night.
For reasons you now understand, I was wild, lubricated, and very tight. My vagina consumed him with a series of uncontrolled constrictions and releases as I drew him downward. Bobby had assured I was fully ready, possessed by overwhelming needs.
It took several strokes until I felt his warmth had arrived deep in my vagina. That was all it took for Amyl. He delivered fifteen lunging surges into me the moment he got all the way to my cervix. His semen was warm and his rope hit the tender entry to my womb violently. Time after time he delivered and time after time I responded to his delivery. Finally, he moaned, delivered one more violent thrust deep into my body and relaxed.
He lay directly on top of me as if he was in a different world. My right arm surrounded his kinky head as I turned us together to the right and my left hand directed my breast to his lips. He began nursing like a baby. To my alarm and dismay I could actually feel relief as he worked. It was clear I was producing more milk than before. A brief concern passed. What about these pills? It seemed like my breasts were moving in the wrong direction.
My momentary concern passed quickly as he rested and nursed at my breast. It was replaced by a feeling of relief and accomplishment. I had taken on my fifth black guy for sure. Why had if become such a kinky pleasure to keep track.
He kept working my breast and my body responded with one quiet pulsation after another. He felt good, and innocent, and c***dlike as I held him. Time passed as Amyl moved from one breast to the other. I finally began to calm a bit as my passions began to subside.
Sometime later I awoke to find Amyl was gone. I got up slowly and went down with just my skirt and blouse on. The front room was quiet and dark. I could just make out the images of a couple blacks lying on the gigantic pillows in the middle of the floor. I could not make out Bobby. No one stirred. I concluded my evening was over. I had paid all my bills.
I drove home dressed as I was; skirt and blouse, nothing else. For reasons I could not understand, I felt lonely. I had to admit I was missing the whole thing at Bobby’s. It was like my entire existence was there in the hood until this was over. It was the only place I felt safe and desired.
Tonight I had worn a new longer pleated skirt, and a new larger top that my mother had just bought. They were both in good shape. They had been neatly folded on the chair in the bedroom all evening and they did not get messed up on the way home.
My parents were out. I made my way to the bedroom after a little snack in the kitchen. For reasons I could not explain, I no longer wanted to shower when I was finished at Bobby’s. I liked everything about how I smelled and felt and I wanted it to stay with me during the night. My last thoughts were of Amyl’s black hair, encircle in my right arm, as he calmly consumed from my breast.

My weekends always moved so slowly, I was bored every minute. There was nothing happening; nothing to think about except the two subjects that dominated my life. The “program” which was bringing my life back to normal; and the wild array of new exotic feelings and emotions which I did not want admit, but which I did not want to go away.
As this weekend started I realized that only one of these was dominating my every waking moment—nothing would take the erotic thoughts out of my mind. Every quiet moment; and there were lots of them, the adventures at Bobby’s dominated my thinking and replaced any concerns I had about pregnancy and the procedure.
Physically, the sex had become captivating. My young body had adjusted readily to what I much later in life learned were enormous Negro units. I had an aching need for what they did to me. I craved the activity. Life was so boring at home, but not when I was at Bobby’s. I found I was eagerly waiting for each trip down to the hood. Three times a week had become easy to arrange at home. Things were running smoothly with the pill. Other than gaining weight I was as healthy as could be.
The whole subject of intercourse had taken on new meaning. All my early years, whenever I thought about sex it was in the context of love and marriage. He would be just the right guy; I would be the cute, young virgin in white. We would be married. It was going to be so right and then it would be so grand. Now, my shoplifting and the consequences required that I adjust to a completely different viewpoint. Now I was a tramp, nothing more, and beyond that, I had to acknowledge that the sex and all Bobby put with it, had become more than just a means to an end. It was absolutely captivating. I was, as Bobby had called me from the first—that “type” of girl. My early c***dhood concepts of love and all that stuff went out the window when I shoplifted and got knocked up staying out of jail. Sex was completely differently, now. I craved it.
Each of these black guys—and I had now had twenty two of them paying for the program—came to me for one purpose. They were there to fuck me. In most cased they were older and knew for sure what they wanted from a woman. It was strange though when we were done—in each and every case—I was in love with them in a very carnal, corporeal, caring way. They had paid my bills, but I had received so much more.
DOUBTS


It was the fourth weekend of the program and I calculated I was just a couple weeks from the end. The weekend started ok. I really felt fine. I was bored. I drummed up some things to keep me busy and on Saturday afternoon I even wiped out my car.
But, sometime Sunday concerns started really work on my mind. At first, I decided I really needed to keep busier. I had two big closets filled with clothing yet I could find nothing that really fit and hid my condition any longer. My folks had been around home all week so I had little privacy. My friends were all committed to family or summer jobs so I had no one to go out with. I called Kyle; he was working out of town. I sat watching endless hours of TV wearing some baggy sweat pants and a T-shirt.
Slowly, all the erotic temptations of the activities at Bobby’s were swept from my mind by an enormous elephant—the ever growing concern that this “program” was not working.
Every time I looked in a mirror I looked more pregnant. I was developing a real baby bump and my breasts were enormous and painful.
Each time I sat still I began trying to count all the days since Mallmart one more time just like I had before. That would end with the helpless feeling that timing no longer mattered. The only thing that mattered was Bobbie’s program.
I waited, impatiently, for Monday evening and another session at Bobby’s. I knew as that got closer the excitement there would get the other things off my mind, but all the free time over the weekend was a killer. I gave me way too much time to just worry.
Monday morning I bowed out of working at the charity. Tonight I would return to Bobby’s, but this time anticipating the erotic activities was not pushing away all that was bothering me. Last night had turned out long, worrisome, and sleepless. I was ready to go back to Bobby tonight. I was eagerly anticipating that there was only one more week after this one, but that made me think too logically about the whole thing. Nothing was happening to me. I was taking the pills as instructed, but there was not one indication they were doing anything.
I needed to talk to someone other than Bobby and his guys. I needed reassurances in the daylight from someone as much in the middle of this as me. I needed to talk to Jamal.
Opening time at Mallmart was ten and I was entering the door. I was wearing a summer dress that was really cute if belted, but on this trip it hung loosely. As such, it hid my tummy pretty well, but it was impossible to hide the size of my breasts. I could hardly button the top.
There were two security guys at the door I did not recognize. I walked into the store a short way and then turned back to the entrance. On the second circuit I summoned all my courage and asked one of the guards if Jamal was working. He wanted to know why. I told him I was a friend. He looked up and down my body at least twice before he told me that Jamal had received a big promotion to manager and was now in the main office. He then pointed me to the back of the store.
I started back through the store with my mind on automatic. I sure was not your normal Monday shopper. I was amazed at how many low class trailer court people were shopping, and how many of the overweight white women were dragging black babies. Was that my future if this damn program was not working? I got on the scale last night before bed and learned that I was about twelve pounds heavier. So here I was gaining weight rapidly and becoming more and more convinced I was carrying Jamal’s and my baby.
Each time I passed one of these women in an aisle my heart stopped. My fear was bad enough just looking at myself. Now with each step a fat frumpy white lady, with a black k**, was driving me from just fear to absolute terror. If this program was not working as it should, I was well over five months pregnant with a baby and I was only eighteen years old. My birthday was still three months away. What timing.
The only redeeming thing was that the little half breed k**s were so fucking cute. How could something so cute be such a nightmare?
I walked all the way to the back wall of the enormous store and then started down a hall pass restrooms toward a counter and doors marked corporate offices. At the counter a young black girl directed me to a seat at the side. I had not seen or spoken to Jamal in over a month; not since the day he introduced me to Bobby. I was shaking.
One phone call and Jamal was standing in front of me looking down. Courage swept over me for a moment and I looked up right into his eyes. What I saw said everything. He tried to smile, but all he could do was motion for me to follow him.
We went quickly through a reception area and directly into his office; desk, executive chair, table against the wall and two conference chairs. He had windows now; they were high. I sat in one of the conference chairs he pointed to as he went to his phone and pushed a couple button.
Finished, he came over,
“Caroline, hello; needless to say, I am surprised to see you. After all you went through here at the store; I was convinced I would never see you again once it was over. Are you finished with that program? I hope it all went well. I have paid all they asked, when they asked. Or is that why you’re here? Do we owe more money?”
I looked at him as he rambled and found myself at a loss for words.
Finally, I interrupted and stammered out,
“Jamal, I have come to a terrible conclusion. I don’t think Bobbie is for real. Nothing about what he has done makes sense. The doctor he introduced to solve this seemed ok at first, but he started giving me these expensive pills that are not working. I have done everything I have been told to do and look at me! It has been well over a month. This is all supposed to be finished next week.”
I stood and turned sideways, drawing the dress across my front, so he could see the obvious changes to my tummy and breasts. For reasons I cannot explain; as I showed him how I looked, a strange carnal feeling came over me. I was displaying his work. What he had done to me. This was his baby I was carrying. He was the father. He was as much into this as I was.
This whole thing was such a contradiction. Just looking at him drove me to distraction. He was amazingly handsome but he would be the last man I could ever imagine being associated with sexually. He was very black, a guy three times my age, a guy three times my size; a guy with a strange strict bearing that scared me; and yet there I was standing in front of him, demonstrating I was convinced I was still pregnant by him.
I stood frozen, showing him my profile, looking at him, waiting for a reaction.
His face projected a kaleidoscope of emotions; concern, anger, fear even a hint of two or pride.
Finally, he spoke,
“What kind of program did you say?”
Without further prompting, I unloaded. Driven by a lot of nervous energy and finally having someone to share my fears with, I describing it in detail, everything; Bobby, the house, the neighborhood, the doctor, the pills, the men like Rashid and Amyl, the white “nurses” the whole thing. All that had gone on during the last five weeks which now seemed to be wasted time. I spared no detail; even detailing the changes in me physically and mentally
When I finished Jamal stood up and came directly in front of me. He reached out with both hands to embrace me. Finished he stepped away. His eyes were moist with concern or perchance rage. I could not tell.





THE TRUTH



“Caroline, sit down. Let me call this Bobbie guy. I don’t know much about this kind of stuff, but this whole thing sounds fishy.”
I sat. He called. He called another number, then a third. Bobby obviously answered this last call and in the next ten minutes I was party to one side of the most disturbing conversation of my life.
As they talked, I watched Jamal’s face turn darker and darker with anger. Final he began to give Bobby a series of unspeakable fowl epithets and threats that I would never repeat.
He hung up violently and looked at the wall for what seemed like forever, and then he unloaded on me.
It turned out Bobby admitted a horrible deception as Jamal threatened him with a v******e he understood. In short, Bobby was told in very dark terms that if this program did not work he was a dead man and with that Bobby began to really spill the beans.
Bobby it turns out was nothing more than a high class pimp and a hustler. “Dr. Smith” was a guy that worked for him and did amateur acting on the side; he had no medical training. Joyce and Donna were trained as nurses, but they were also married women that somehow got wrapped up with Bobbie and prostitution. Rashid and Amyl were bouncers at a bar Bobby owned. The pills were harmless sugar placebos.
It went on and on. One by one Jamal revealed the dark details of my plight and my heart sunk lower and lower.
To add insult to injury, Bobby told Jamal I had earned several thousand dollars, and he would gladly give it to him if he would forget the whole thing, kick me to the curb, and not resort to v******e. “After all, why get involved. I was just another bored rich white girl that had played the “nigger” lover game for kicks and got knocked up. I was a tramp. I was a white slut who finally got caught playing around with black fire. I was paying the price for my kicks.”
Jamal said nothing more he just sat and looked at me. I sat looking past him to the wall. I am sure my face was absolutely expressionless. White with shock and dismay! His face was black, very black with a fearful angry expression that is inked on my mind today.
The entire nightmare swept over me like that darkest cloud. I was so pregnant with his baby. Even looking straight ahead at Jamal I could see the changes to my breasts and tummy. My entire body looked so different. I even sat differently. And all my precious time to get rid of this had passed while I was being played along by this Bobby.
I was choked up with emotion. This news had caused dampness to run down my front. I could feel tears forming in my eyes.
The only positive I could find was a strange feeling of relief. My doubts about this program had been plaguing me and now I knew the truth. I had been deceived, but the deception was over. I was now dealing with reality.
I looked over at Jamal. I could look him right in the eye now. This recent revelation moved our relationship to a complete standoff. It leveled the playing field. We were in this together. He had the tapes and the witnesses that could send me to jail, but I was carrying his black baby and one word to authorities would ruin his life. It was a true standoff. We both had a new understand of the results of what we had done together.
We sat in silence. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. He seemed to get bigger with every moment that passed. I could not take my eyes off of him. How in the world could a thin young white girl like me have his baby? He was enormous.
He sat looking at the wall. Finally, he slowly turned toward me. He was looking down at the floor. I could clearly hear him breathing heavily. He looked up at me,
“Having sex with you was the worst thing I have ever done. I have been so angry with myself ever since. I can’t sleep. It does no good now, but I want you to know I never intended to do what I did. I am a strict rules guy, but that day I had decided to break the rules just for you. You had me sold. You had me convinced you had just made a onetime dumb mistake. I was going to just scare the hell out of you, embarrass you, and let you go.
But Caroline, when I put you over the desk to act like I was going to spank you, I literally lost it. With that short skirt you were wearing it was more than I could handle sexually. I lost control. I could not deal with the temptation. I have never seen anything more tempting. I mean it. Never! My power went to my head and I took terrible advantage of you.”
He stopped and looked away toward the door. I could see tears welling up in his big dark eyes. He slowly turned and looked around the room. I could hear him breathing deeply, trying to compose himself. He was absolutely tormented and it was now turning completely to anger. I felt terrible. My fears went away for a moment as I watched his seething.
I had to say something,
“You know, really this whole thing is my fault. Had I not committed the crime, had I not shoplifted, you would have never met me. None of this would have happened.”
I watched the changing expressions in his face. I could see my comments were giving him some relief. I was acknowledging responsibility. I was admitting we were in this together. It was helping him.
“You know even with this jerk Bobby, you were honestly trying to help me. We were both deceived.”
For reasons I will never understand all this bad news made me feel a new sense of power over the situation. In a strange way this was all about me. Everything was now revealed. We were finally dealing with a very dark troublesome reality we both had created. I stood up and walked over to put my hand on his shoulder as he sat at the desk. Strange mature, almost motherly, emotions came over me.
I honestly felt sorry for him,
“Jamal, we are in this together. I am the one who shoplifted. I am the one that wore that little skirt to play games and tempt the boys in the mall. You were a victim of the situation I created. I knew what I looked like. I shouldn’t have dressed so seductively. I shouldn’t have shoplifted for sure. You shouldn’t have taken advantage of me. So there we are. I am pregnant with your baby. We are in this together.”
For unknown reasons I needed his touch. He was the only one I had now. He was the only person in the world I could talk too about all this. It was obvious we had been drawn so close by all that had happened between us.
Now, for the first time, standing here looking down at him, I could begin to comprehend the indescribable conflict within me that day he took me; the combination of fear, hatred, loathing, all mixed together with an erotic passion which I could not describe or admit. I had been unable to wrap my arms around all the emotions until right then. It was like some terrible storm had finally passed.
A feeling of empowerment came over me. I need his touch and it looked like he really needed mine as well. I reached for his hand and brought him up from his chair. I gave him a gentle hug. He was so big it was awkward. It was the first time I had tried to hug him. I could hardly reach his neck and my arms could not begin to encircle his chest. When he stepped back there were clear stains from my breasts on the front of his blue uniform shirt.
“Jamal, please, please don’t go after Bobby and the people involved in that scam. I beg you. Please just forget them. They are scum and hurting any of them will only add to my troubles and yours. They know all about you. They know where you work. They know where you live. They could hurt you so badly in many ways. They know all about me, now, as well. They could harm us both.
That whole thing down there in the hood is crazy and scary. Who in the world could I turn to if you get hurt badly or killed? I have no one else. We are in this together; Period.
Please, just put all your energy into helping me deal with this? What can I do to get out of this mess?
Please think, think, there has to be options.”
For the next ten minutes we stood in a gentle embrace in the center of his office. I could feel him calming in my arms. Just his touch, the fact he had not just stepped out of the whole thing and dumped me, gave me reassurance. Together we walked toward the conference table. It was clear Jamal had accepted all this and was beginning to deal with things rationally. His calm acceptance was reassuring. We were trapped in this together and now shared the same worries and concerns.
But, what he did not understand was the other side of it for me. He had no comprehension of the uncontrollable unexplainable passions that possessed me as a result of that day. Even today, in spite of all the fear, worry and loathing in our conversation, I was in a heated sexual turmoil inside. His mature calmness only added fuel to my internal fires, and he had no idea. I was aching for his attention and physical ratification of our complex bond.
Once at the conference table I turned my back to him and brought his hands around me and up to my inflated breasts. We stood in this embrace for several minutes as he softly kissed the back of my neck and gently manipulated my breasts. Finally, I could take no more. I reached for the back of my skirt with both hands and brought it up over my back and went forward onto the table. I could hear his zipper and heavy breathing. I slid my panties down behind me and let them fall to the floor. His left hand came under to support me as my legs parted and his right hand guided his enormous manhood deep into my very ready vagina. It took effort, he was enormous, but it felt so good. I needed exactly what he provided.
We were back where this all started only now we were full partners in everything, including this overwhelming desire for one another. Jamal started to make love to me with every fiber of his being and I responded with desires that were at the boiling point. Each of his strokes was met by my arching and contracting to take all he gave me. At some point we started to climax together, time after time, and the climaxes blended together into one uncontrollable, enormous emotional entanglement of our bodies.
Time after time he told me how much he had missed this, how much he had worried about me, how much he needed more of this. He went on and on and each of his pleadings was met by the same from me. This enormous black man was answering all the terrifying lonely nightmares I had been having for days. He was buried deep within me, his semen was flooding through my body once again, and we were cementing a relationship stronger than any marriage. We were in a terribly complex, problematic situation, but we were in it together.
It ended as he gently stood up and pulled from me with a sound I cannot describe. I was so tight around him it took effort for him to withdraw. This time I knew what he desired. This time my panties stayed on the floor as I straightened up and fixed my dress and my hair.
We embraced over and over and then turned to sit down at the table together. There was a new bond between us. We simply sat looking in one another’s eyes, but the message of love flowed between us so strongly. He was a very big, very black, very handsome man and I was a very cute white girl with a cute pony tail and a very cute bump that we had created together. Our plight was now fully understood between us.
After some time we started to discuss new solutions. We worked as a team. One by one he started to logically list the things we had going for us. On my side; I had good health, good looks, high school finished, loving parents, a good home, my car, and access to some money. He went on and on. He was describing the positive things in my life and the fact that I now had some independence. I could tell he had been doing research.
“How did you learn so much about me, Jamal?”
He reached in his shirt pocket and handed me the driver’s license and credit card I had left on his table that first day. Holy shit, I had been without them and never missed them.
“I do my homework. I have had more remorse than you will ever know. But I am the type of guy that rather than trying to forget you, I wanted to learn everything I could about you. Mallmart can run excellent background studies. Right away I learned you were not the shoplifting little white tramp I thought you were. Your background check told me you were a quality k**, although your life had been very white and sort of boring if you know what I mean.”
He sat looking at me for a moment and then continued.
“Caroline, from my side I will bring everything I have to bear on this. I just got a wonderful promotion here with lot more pay, I get military retirement and medical, I am single, I have no dependents, I don’t spend much, I have good money in the bank and I own a neat condo in a fairly nice neighborhood. Up to this point I have done things right.
I have to admit you are correct in your thoughts about Bobby and his shitty buddies in the hood. Hurting any of them would only add untold complications. I will promise to get my mind off of all that and direct my thoughts to solving this problem.
Right now we both have a lot of thinking to do so maybe we should end this here today, give this more contemplation, and then quickly have a follow-up meeting at my place to go over our conclusions, ok? I want you to call me this evening and let me know your first chance get together. I am dropping everything to work on this. We need to move fast.”
I nodded. We stood up. He wrapped me firmly in his arms and covered my mouth an enormous kiss. He turned to his desk and handed me his card with home address and phone. We walked toward the door. I turned back to him, went up on my tiptoes wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. I backed away. The front on his dark blue shirt was very wet. I pointed it out.
He smiled and said,
“I would like this to look like a casual employment conversation so I better say goodbye here, can you find your way out?”
I apologized and reached confidently for the door handle. He turned back toward his desk.
As I moved out through the reception area I was most pleased that no one seemed to take note of me.
I made a brief stop at the ladies room and then started out through the aisles.
The store had a good many shoppers now, and many caused me to reflect on my condition as I passed along the aisles. For some reason, I saw so many fat white women with the black babies. I felt fat; I actually seemed to walk differently. Maybe my weight had increased and shifted enough to make a difference. Alarmingly, I much better understood how these women got where they were.
I was less than half way out of the store when a security guard came up behind me, smiling,
“Hey Caroline; nice to see you; catching up on the weekend shopping?”
I glanced at him and continued to walk.
He moved along beside me,
“The boys in the back were talking about your thing down in the hood with that Bobby. My name is Rashaid. I am trying to make it down there to see you but you can call me here anytime; just ask for me on the main phone line. You know, you sure are one very good looking girl. I really would like to get to know you.”
I tried to look at him with a smile to keep up appearances, and then ignore him and walked on. He followed along for about twenty steps continuing his kind effort to become part of my problem, and then he turned down an aisle. I walked on filled with contradictory emotions. My body was a playground of wild inconsistencies I could not understand.








NEW DIRECTION



Once I was safely in the Mustang and on my way home. My mind went into overtime. I kept going over and over my mind-boggling circumstances. I had such a challenge coming to grips with all that had happened to me. I had traveled from a cute virgin to a tramp in such a short time. How does a very attractive, good, eighteen year old girl, commit felony shoplifting, have sex with a big black guy to avoid jail, get pregnant; and then explain to herself the turn on—the undeniable, erotic, exciting, turn on that start in her womb and moves up through her breasts so often now; particularly, in a situation like just happened with that security guard back there?
My previous life had been described as boring, but that was no longer the case for sure.
My conversation with Jamal had been very gratifying. He recognized we were partners in this. This was our problem and we needed one another to handle it. What he didn’t recognize was that I need him in more ways than just that one. Already, my breasts and lower body were responding just thinking of him. When these erotic responses first started shortly after the event I fought them. I only wanted to negatives with the horrible events in Mallmart that day. But recently I had begun to deal with reality. I had to admit the sensual feelings that come over me whenever I thought about him. He was enormous. He had gotten me good the very first time. He was my partner and he was all I had in this.
Beyond all that I had to deal with mixed feelings about Bobby’s confession. Up front his confession served to tell me he was nothing but a bum—a bum who had used my horrible circumstance for his pleasure. Yet even this could also turn into conflicting erotic thoughts. Why? Why had he done this to me? He was a lying, cheating pimp who had practically sealed my doom. Yet memory of those events as well could cloud my mind with fetish if I gave them half a chance.
Then there was the confusing “other” factor Bobby kept throwing into my confusion. Right from the beginning he had taken the moral high road regarding the baby. He really seemed to want me to continue with the pregnancy. He kept offering me support if that is what I would do.
As I drove my mind just continued to wind up into a swirl.
Every word the guard had just said as I walked out through that store still rang in my ears. He had my body shuddering so violently that after he disappeared down the aisle, I had to stop and act like I was looking at a pillow display before I was stable enough to walk on. He knew I was Bobby’s whore.
As I had continued toward the exit after that first guard left me alone, three more black guys in blue shirts greeted me by name and each time my body responded the same. They knew as well.
I was well known at Mallmart. The events at Bobbies must have spread like wildfire in the stock room. I was certain each one of them knew the story. A certain sexual chill passed up through me as I drove. My life was a nightmare, but no longer boring for sure.
I kept thinking about all the meaningless times I had wandered through the mall with the amigos trying to entice the high school boys. We tortured them for a cheap thrill, knowing none of them would ever get close to us. In our boring world that cheap thrill was intense entertainment. Was it that same erotic thrill that now had gone absolutely viral in my body? I was in such trouble, but something about it was driving me out of my mind wild.
The ride home turned more and more scary. Being alone in the car had let strange things worm there way in. I was undoubted the main topic of conversation with the men at Mallmart. What happened to me was a juicy, erotic, gossip story that was spreading everywhere. By going back to the store I had confirmed everything and added fuel to the fire.
Why was I turned on thinking about all the shit they would be saying about me? This pregnancy created massive terror for me, but was it also created an erotic circumstance for all that knew about it and that could take complete control of my mind.
When I stopped at a red light I looked down in my lap. This dress was so bad; it came down over my knees. I looked like a little old lady in this Mustang. An irrepressible urge caused me to move my skirt upward until my legs were on full display. I watched the expression on the guy in the car beside me, and another corporeal tremor passed upward.
The front of my dress was damp completely to my waist. There was nothing I could do to stop the flow; how worrisome, how erotic. What was coming over me? One thing after another rattled uncontrolled through my head. This dress was baggy, but very light weight. It surely told the men of Mallmart way too much about my condition.
This time, I was coming home from Mallmart with panties on. To my mixed up mind that was not the way a pregnant whore should have departed the scene of the crime. At the next red light I took care of that. Someone will find them. They were almost new, but now my lower body felt exposed like my mind expected it too.
I shook all over. Was I going crazy? Had all this finally become too much for one girl to process?
Two wild thoughts came over me. First, I should call Kyle, have a date with him, and give him the treat he has wanted for so long. He had tried so hard for months to get what I had given away to stay out of jail. Kyle spent a lot of money on our dates, he is leaving for college; he certainly can do no harm now. Something about that last thought caused me to look down at my tummy.
Another thought; I am going to call Jamal back right away and set up a time to get together as soon as possible. I needed him closely involved in several different ways right now and not just his advice and support.
It was just eleven thirty when this pregnant girl got back home. What a morning. During the last two miles my mind had been occupied recalculating the days. Why did I insist on doing that? When do you start the clock on a pregnancy; from your last period or when he gets you? Well does it matter? It’s got to be over ten weeks either way.
When I arrived home, I sat in the drive. I knew no one was home. I was supposed to be gone as well.
I just sat in my car trying to control outrageous confused erotic thoughts and desires which had taken control of me again. This whole thing had been so madding. This Bobby was the lowest form of life. To do this to me; to make me a whore, to exploit my condition for his profit while using up all my valuable time, was the lowest thing he could do. Yet he had lit indescribable fires in me.
On the other hand it was Jamal who fucked me. He was the real culprit that got me. I should be so angry at him.
Yet I was the shoplifter who started the whole thing. It all was my own damn fault.
Rather than running, Jamal had become my worried partner trying to find a solution that would work. He had really stepped up. He had put together the best offers he could think of. Offers that required he take responsibility and share in this.
But in doing this he had created another real complication. He had been honest with himself and with me. At his age, I was most likely carrying his only possibility for a c***d...half my white egg, half his very black sperm. The thought of this responsibility brought tears to my eyes.
The next two hours I can never explain nor do I want to try. I moved through the house like a zombie. I was overcome by an outrageous strong force, like a moth to a flame. I needed Jamal, I needed his touch, I needed to know so much more about him, I needed some level of comfort, or predictability, which I did not have in the hollow scary world.
Looking back I think all the stress and confusion had won. I had completely lost it.
I went through my closet like a wild girl. White new panties, white little thin bra, the shortest white pleated skirt and a white short sleeved sweater top made up my outfit. Everything was so tight. I bulged out around the bra; and the skirt was held in place only with the little white belt. There was no way to button it. I spun in front of my full length mirror. Oh my; the very best of my pregnancy was on full display. I was hiding absolutely nothing. I threw the baggy dress in the hamper and went down to find lunch.
Cheese, cracker and a coke made up my lunch. I felt so alone in all this. Jamal was my only port in this storm.
I put Jamal’s address into my GPs and headed out. I just had to see how he lived. 1466 High Bluff Court was exactly sixteen miles and twenty minutes away. The only rational thought I had was at least by snooping I would be prepared to meet him for our conversation. But why had I dressed this way? Was it just a mental revolt against any possibility of having Jamal’s baby?
Looking back, there really was nothing logical about what I was doing; I was simply overcome with sexual energy. This was a clear attempt to advertise my condition to whoever saw me. In part, I am sure it was created by being pregnant, but the circumstances of the trip to Mallmart today contributed immensely; the Jamal meeting, the scrutiny on the way out, the driver in other car, my panties on the road.
My mind was in overload and this drive, dressed this way, offered nothing except more time to drive myself wild.
I finally arrived in Jamal’s neighborhood. He was clearly doing well. His condo was new, on a nice open street where I saw nothing but white neighbors. The area was tree lined with very attractive parks and walkways. He was living very urban. I wondered how long he had been here and where he had lived before. There would be nothing scary about coming here to meet him. This guy was for real. I felt relieved.
There was nothing more to do. I headed down his street turned toward home.









BOBBY REVISITED



Then out of nowhere my right hand reached to the GPS and brought up 2247 West Branch. Maybe I needed to see the contrast; maybe I had to acknowledge my hatred and so many unanswered questions. Everything about Bobby was such a scary hateful contrast to Jamal.
It was twelve miles away as I turned in toward the city. My mind went on automatic.
I had never known a black guy until this summer and now I was deeply involved and trying to understand two of them.
One was stern, complicated and serious and I was pregnant by him. He understood me and the world I lived in. He wanted only the best for me, but there was no way he could participate in my world.
The other was so hateful. He was a lying, cheating, pimp. He had tricked me, used me, and humiliated me. He had stolen well over a month of valuable days with false hopes and promises all for his financial benefit and entertainment. He knew nothing about me or my goals in life. Yet he had taken me to sexual places I never dreamed existed. My body would never forget him.
The memory of his white teeth contrasted against his very black face as he skillfully manipulated me. All it took was his tug, his pull, and then his grin and he had me. I would then do anything he wanted.
The hood looked much different in the daylight; worse. Junk everywhere. I pulled down the street slowly. I was so aware that my new blue Mustang really was a contrast and was easily recognized by every black ghetto guy hanging around the street corners.
Bobby’s place really stood out. It was by far the best kept and brightest building on the street. This neighborhood was as foreign to my life as the furthest third world country. Poverty, d**gs, guns, v******e; this neighborhood was on the news every night.
What was I doing here? There were so many unanswered questions. What was this strange erotic empty feeling? I actually looked down into my lap as I moved slowly down his street. Wow, my tummy wasn’t empty for sure. This tight short skirt really emphasized my condition.
Suddenly, I came out of my deep thoughts, aware I had been driving slower and slower; I really had no place to go except to drive by Bobby’s and return home. I just needed to see it; to deal with the reality of what this black snake had done to me; to somehow come to grips with how he stolen vital time and really complicated things for Jamal and me.
I went by his place. I had not noticed the porch in the front before. I turned in the alley at the end of his street and headed back; just one more pass, and I would keep going. My home had become very unsettling and boring, but this was too scary. An adventure I did not need.
Suddenly, in the midst of this junky neighborhood, a strange sense of belonging came over me. I had been completely pimped by this black asshole, who was the dominate male in this hood. He owed me big time. I had nothing to fear. I was pregnant by this other big black guy. This place owed me so much, I owned this place. I was consumed by a wild desire as I turned into Bobbies’ drive and pulled right through to the back of the house. I shut the engine off and sat there. What in the world was I doing?
The back door of the house slammed and my entire driver’s door window was overshadowed by Bobby. I rolled the window down.
He was laughing,
“You came to see me—me of all people!”
He laughed loudly,
“Well that’s really no surprise, girl. I knew you’d show up, it was just a matter of when. I thought it might take a day or two.
What a phone call I got from that fuckin Jamal. He was pissed off royal. He is some kind of a self righteous ignorant asshole. He sure the fuck don’t understand what make a white girl tick.
Well, we understand, don’t we? You’re welcome home girl. Come on inside for some of Bobby’s iced tea. We got a little tea party going on.”
Somehow as he spoke a little reality crept back into my crazy mind. What in the world was I doing here? How could I have found a more dangerous place to go?
I was reaching for the ignition just as he opened the door and took my hand from the wheel. He pulled me toward him and I swung my legs out together, fully aware that my skirt was indecently short and revealing. As I turned he took both my hands and lifted me up from the seat into his arms. He stood wrapped his arms around me and stood there looking down into my eyes,
“I knew from the very beginning you were caught up in the game, honey. I knew it that day when I came over and “met” you. I tried to tell that big ape Jamal you were, but he wouldn’t listen. He is so pissed because he’s so righteous—and he’s scared cause he’s the one that fucked you and got you all knocked up.
I told him you knew fuckin well what might happen when you fucked him in the first place. You got that white girl itch real bad. You shoplifted cause you got the itched—you fucked when you got caught cause you got the itched and you knew fucking well what was going on when you came here, but you were funning with it cause you still had the itch and being knocked up feels so good when you itch, right?
Ya see I know how you white girl’s think. I know your wild ass inner needs. I knew right from the start when you fucked me good in the office that day, you loved the game. You need what you get from black dicks. Now I got a whole bunch of niggers who all know the same thing. They all know you have the wild white girl’s need real bad. They all come hanging our here wondering when you’re coming back.
You come on in here and get some tea.”
He was grinning ear to ear as he took my forearm and led me up the steps into the house. He went directly through the porch area to the front room where there were at least six black guys lying around on big pillows, drinking and smoking. Even though it was mid day the room was dark. Scary!
Bobby whispered in my ear,
“Look at this lover you interrupted one of my afternoon parties.”
He laughed,
The guys were all black, older and appeared stoned. They turned toward the door as we appeared.
Bobby stopped there and explained in a whisper,
“Most every day some of these niggers come by. I supply the weed and the booze and later the ladies when they have the big desire. You sure welcome here at Bobby’s. Let me show you just how welcome you really are.”
With that, Bobby moved behind me, took my elbows, and moved me to the middle of the room as he had done before when I was here. Even though it was daylight, the room was dark with heavy d****s closed across the windows. There was an unforgettable sweet odor.
Lou Rawls music was playing somewhere in the background. How could it be that he was playing the same damn music?
This was such a conflict for me. I was where I certainly did not belong, but I seemed powerless to leave. I shuddered with indescribable sexuality as he turned me in front of these men. He knew exactly what he was doing with me—he was putting me on display for their entertainment; and he knew exactly what he was doing to me—driving me wild.
The light was subdued enough that I had trouble seeing the men on the floor. I could tell they were black that was about all.
I glance down. My breasts were big enough to begin with but they were emphasized by the position in which Bobby held arms. My tummy was so obvious. The short white skirt was way short and so white it glowed in the semidarkness.
Step by step he moved me across the room keeping me in front of him. We finally ended up way to close to them. They were all looking up at me from the floor. From that angle, I was certain they could see the triangle of my white panties.
After we finally stopped one of the men struggled to his feet and came staggering toward us. My all white outfit almost glowed in the semidarkness. A shudder passed through me. Bobby held me facing this guy. As he approached Bobby brought my elbows back further and further, exaggerating my posture.
As the guy got closer Bobby looped his right arm across my back and around my waist such as to pin both my arms back with the one hand. His free hand came in front of me to unbutton the top of my blouse.
This stranger from the floor got bigger and blacker as he moved toward me in the semi-darkness.
Bobbie applied pressure which moved me a couple steps forward all the time grinning ear to ear,
“What to do think of this sweet thing, nigger? This is Caroline; she’s new sugar here at Bobby’s. Ain’t she special?”
As he introduced me he moved my arms back even further, accentuating my breasts. Dampness was flowing from my breasts and my sex. The world was spinning.
I was overcome with strange, powerful, erotic, sexual energy. For a short while I had reprieve from all that tortured me. I was out of my mind with pure erotic sexual energy.
The black guy stopped right in front of me and lifted my top. With my arms pinned backward, I was defenseless.
He held my blouse up, examining me up and down.
“Your right Bobby; this is one fine girl. She looks so sweet! It looks like she all knocked up—looks like she got it real young.”
He fondled my right breast through my thin bra for a moment and then brought his mouth down to it. I heard Bobby behind me laughing,
“She a bit bound up there for a good taste test, don’t you think?”
With his free hand Bobbie reached down and lifted my top further. There was a flash in the dark and I felt cold steel against my warm chest and then I felt my breasts drop free. I looked down to see this black stranger consuming my bare breast with a switch blade dangling in his right hand.
He was obviously high on something, but he was incredibly skilled with the knife.
I shuddered and instinctively tried to move backward, but Bobby’s pressure on my back held me firmly in position. Bobby held my top upward with this free hand while the stranger’s blade slit it from top to bottom in one slash.
After a couple more quick slices and one tug, the stranger threw the tattered remains of my new bra across into the middle of the smokers.
“Give that a sniff, niggers. This girl smells so good it makes my eyes water.”
I could distinctly hear Bobby laughing behind me.
The black stranger’s mouth found my right breast. He engulfed it as his knife cut my belt, and the side of my skirt. Now cut free, my skirt joined the remains of my bra in the middle of the group.
“Don’t think you got need for that neither, girl.”
He offered as his mouth returned to firmly engulf my breast.
A chilling, shudder passed up through my body as I watched the remains of my skirt being handed from one black to the other.
Two more quick skillful slashes and my new white panties were split down the sides and tossed over to the group as well. He release his suction on my right breast just long enough to announce,
“Add this cute little thing to the stack niggers?”
I was nude except for the tattered remains of my top and my sandals.
I shuddered wildly as Bobby turned me to face this black stranger more directly. Quickly I learned he had turned me so guy had access to both of my breasts. I was lactating freely and now he started working both of them causing even more flow. Moisture ran freely down my front as he worked me.
Finally, he stepped back and looked at Bobby with a big toothy grin,
“Robert, ma man, this girl is something very special. I never saw one so cute, and so full of sweetness. Let me take her upstairs.”
My knees were weak. My front was wet everywhere. I was doubling over trying to control myself only to look down and see he had the biggest erection. A frightening sensation passed over me. I would willingly follow this stranger anywhere, do anything he wanted, and take anything he offered, I needed him so badly.
Bobby was right from the very beginning. I was caught up in erotic sexual needs from the very first time I came here. I was the “type” of girl he described. I had to admit it. He may have bilked me with the “program”, but honestly there were warning signs from the beginning. I would easily have recognized them had I not been lost in the erotic with him. Every trip down here for a “treatment” had been an adventure I needed sexually.
I needed this. I kept hiding my doubts about everything here at Bobby’s because I needed the sex—simple as that. Otherwise why in the world would I be back here now?
The stranger reached for my arm but Bobby slowly turned me away toward the door.
He started to move me across the room toward the hall. I was wearing just my sliced open white top and sandals, nothing else. My arms pinned behind me; my breasts and tummy on display.
The big black guy circled around in front of me still banishing the switch blade Bobby stopped just short of the door.
“Hey sit the fuck down nigger. This piece of sugar and I are going up stairs for a while. You sit down and enjoy that bong for a while. She’ll see you later.”
Bobby released my arms and came around in front to lead me out into the hall. The stranger stumbled back toward the pile of pillows.
Bobby was still holding my hand firmly as we entered a bedroom at the top of the stairs. He sat down on the edge of the bed and drew me forward to stand directly in front of him.
I was nude, everything had been cut away.
I willingly let him spread my legs.
I stood there looking down in the semidarkness as his hands went around behind and he drew me to him just as he had done each time he had me up here. His tongue went down to me and came slowly up along my wet sex until his tongue and lips found my most sensitive spot and he locked onto me firmly. It was a feeling I remembered so well; a feeling that haunted my sleepless nights—entered so many erotic fantasies, and a feeling I will never forget. It was a shocking sexual jolt from head to toe.
I moaned loudly, wrapped both my arms around his black, kinky, head and collapsed over him holding him to me as tightly as possible.
He held tight to my clit as my body literally danced with convulsions. It seemed my every move caused him to only tighten and pull more firmly. I moaned again and again, time after time. I was wet everywhere.
Repeatedly, he pulled at my most sensitive spot. He knew exactly what drove me out of my mind. He would skillfully pull my clitoris outward until I climaxed over him, then he would release get a new hold on me and pull it further. I climaxed time after time. I moaned again and again as I lost awareness of everything except Bobby.
Finally, an intense shutter overtook me from head to toe. I collapsed over him. Only then, he released me and lowered me onto the bed beside him.
I last remember Bobby gently rubbing my back as I lay over the edge of the bed on my tummy with my knees on the floor shuddering time after time with outrageous sexual energy.
I heard him utter,
“Welcome back, Caroline.”
My mind went blank.
At some point, I became aware of a noise out in the hall behind me. I was still on my knees over the side of the bed, fully exposed. I struggled to look backward. Bobby was gone. The big black who had cut away all my clothes was coming through the door. I knew why he was there.
It was so simple for him. I had collapsed on my front with my legs downward toward the floor. He had his weapon in his hand as he approached. I felt his weight on my back just before he drove it into me. With his first stroke he went completely down to one of those places deep inside that drives me wild.
He had me. He felt so good. Once again Bobby had taken me to the very brink and this guy was now taking me over the edge where I needed to be.
I moaned,
“Just a little deeper, please, please!”
He drove firmly against me. I felt his engorged testicles strike my bottom.
“Holy shit girl, you are so ready; you really needen this. You really like the big black dick don’t you?
I spread willingly and arched my back upward to get more of him. He drove in to the limit again and stopped,
You really needen this, aren’t you girl?”
I moaned,
“Yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. I like it.” I arched upward and spread my legs further.
With that, this black stranger let out a grunt and went back to work. Again and again, harder and harder he moved firmly into me. His hands came around beneath me to take my breasts. He came at my vagina from all directions and every stroke ended right against the spot deep within that drove me wild and caused me to contract tightly around him. I could not get enough of him. Bobby was right, I was addicted to this.
I became aware that I was way too loud. I struggled to contain my reactions. I started to bite my lip as I moaned.
Finally, his breathing started to come in repetitive snorts and I could feel his warm semen being sent deep against my cervix. He reared back, drove in a final time, and my loud screams accompanied his loud grunts as I took all he had.
When he was finished, I lay there over the edge of the bed, panting. He kissed the back of my neck. He turned my face sideways and gently kissed my cheek.
I can remember only part of his quiet whisper,
“Never girl, never have I had anything like.....”
He continued whispering to me for some time, but I was lost in an overwhelming feeling of love. His weight came off my back, as he slowly withdrew, and he was gone.
I brought my legs together slowly and tried to crawl up into the bed.
I had just managed to get my head on the pillow when another big black guy came through the door.
As with number nine he had taken everything off in the hall where there was more light, his sex was large and ready. This time I was on my back in the bed. Without a word he simply moved over me and came down into my embrace. He consumed my mouth and drove his tongue deep. He tasted sweet. My legs parted and I arched upward as his right hand guided his unit into my vagina. He was gentle and slow.
I moaned quietly as he began to move with a distinct rhythm. He felt so good.
One at a time he lifted my legs up over his shoulders. With me spread to the limit in this submissive position he first moved upward along me and then moved firmly downward to the absolute limit. He had me. It was the most commanding position he could possibly be in. I could not move in any direction except upward against his engorged testicles. My reactions were uncontrollable. I drove my tongue into him as deep as possible and felt his saliva run freely down my face.
My erotic mind kept reminding me he was number ten. He was the tenth black to have me and I was just eighteen years old.
He finally gave me twelve slow, strong, firm strokes and he got twelve binding contractions deep in my vagina as twelve surges of his warm semen were delivered into my body and we moaned loudly together.
Finished, he let my legs slowly come down as I cradled him and my vagina tightened around him. His arms were firmly wrapped around my neck and I held him tightly with mine. We were lying there bound together sometime later as I heard his breathing turn very deep. He was asleep on top of me still deep in my body, still draining.
It was a good feeling. I lay there relaxed. I began thinking about Jamal and how he would respond if he knew the truth about my sexuality. How deeply I could fall in love with each of these men.
Sometime later, Bobby came in to awaken us. The stranger slowly lifted from me with an audible suction. He came up to his knees between my spread legs and gently came down to kiss my lips,
“Thanks sugar! You are something sweet that old Travis won’t forget.”
I mumbled a thank you.
Once Travis was standing, Bobby bent down and kissed my breast before the two of them walked out. I felt so alone.
I lay in the dark just a few minutes until another big black was mounted on me. My short rest with Travis had revived me considerably.
This black when right to work and I began to respond, again.
I remember his comment as he began to work on me,
“You really like the cock, don’t ya girl?”
By now, I knew exactly what these guys wanted to hear.
“Yes, I like your black nigger cock. I need it.”
I whispered in his ear.
Right away he found a “right” place inside me, but once there he stopped moving. He held my hands together over my head and gently moved his lips to my arm pits. Each time his tongue touched me, I convulsed inside for his pleasure.
I was moaning, loudly, as he climaxed violently; just one time, but one very enormous time. My internal muscles had done everything to bring us to the largest climax.
Finished, he kissed my right nipple, lifted up and looked down at me.
“Can you say thank you baby?”
He asked with a large grin,
“Thank you, sir.”
I whispered up toward him.
In my sexual haze it was easy to smile, it was easy to say.
One after another additional blacks came up to love me. I was completely out of it as one at a time they had their way with me...I had my way with them...we had our way together. If this was being a whore...I could never have dreamed there was so much love involved. I have no idea how long I was with them...I have no idea how many came to me...I lost track of time and space in their arms. I was just that “type” of girl.
When the last of them finished I simply turned onto my side wrapped in his arms and slept. My last thoughts were how satisfied I felt and how right Bobbie was when he had first said I was this “type” of girl.
Sometime later I awoke. It was dark in the room. I had no idea what time it was. One by one my senses returned. I remembered wild images of big black breeders below me, above me, beside me.
I still had the remains of my cut up top on, but nothing else. I struggled to sit up a bit and to collect myself. All was quiet.
A movement told me I was not alone in the bed. I looked behind me. A black guy, the last one to love me...perhaps the one who had used the switch blade earlier, was curled up, sound asleep.
Slowly, I moved my hand downward along my body. I quickly confirmed my sex was tender and swollen, but I was retaining all I had been given. I could feel my vagina tightening again and again, deep inside in a pulsing response. My vulva was damp, but the bed was dry.
I gently touched the guy beside me and got a little response. After several attempts he moved closer to me in the darkness. All I could see was that same grin all these black guys seem to give me, that knowing grin that sent convulsions through me.
He mumbled something, kissed my breast, and slowly sat up. With a better look, in the darkened room, I could recognize Travis.
He was nude. He was groggy. He looked down at me lying beside him.
“Good morning lover.”
He whispered with another of those grins.
“Good morning”, I tried to sit up beside him.
“What happened?”
I asked quietly,
“What you think happened sugar? You got fucked, really fucked.”
He looked at me with sort of a quizzical grin.
“You telling me you don’t remember? You disappoint me. You don’t remember me coming up here and finally fucking you like you needed.”
My mind was having a time getting this all organized.
I interrupted,
“I came up here with Bobby. I remember that. I remember others. I remember you coming up later?”
“Yea; and you were still one good tight nigger loving bitch. You are the best fucking piece of ass I ever had, bar none. How do you do all that stuff inside?”
He just kept going on. I interrupted again,
“Did all the other guys come up here as well? I remember others.”
He looked at me and laughed.
“Think you better talk to your Bobby about all that. I only know you gave me one great loving. You sure had a need when I got to you.”
I sat in bed as he slid around me. My muscles were telling me I had for sure been fucked. I sat trying to get my mind back in gear. When I came up here last night there had been six or more guys down on the pillows smoking pot; had each of them come up?
Travis got up and moved toward the hall carrying his clothes. He hesitated at a straight chair by the door, picked something up and turned back toward me.
“Bobby had me bring this up for you sugar. Remember, you got all that other shit cut off you.”
I struggled to my feet as he returned to help me put on a short red robe. It fit perfectly but it was very revealing. It had such a velvety feel. I closed it around me. I looked down. At least in the dark, I looked like a million bucks. I shuddered all over. It gave me such a sensual feeling.
I couldn’t help myself. Just the touch of this beautiful robe in this extraordinary situation was enough. It was just long enough to cover me in front. It brushed my tummy and my sensitive breasts with each move. Already erotic feelings were flooding back through me.
I turned toward Travis. He sensed my responses to the robe. Was I that obvious? He was smiling ear to ear in the semidarkness,
“You already needen the dick again aren’t you girl?”
I moved close to him and gently touched his neck.
I came up on my tiptoes to kiss him,
“Yes!”
I whispered as I hugged him. I knew it was what he wanted to hear, but it was also the truth. Bobby’s words kept returning...he was right. I certainly was that “type” of girl for sure.
Travis held me in an embrace. Finally, he gently turned me in his arms until my back was toward him. I could feel that his erection had already returned, big time. His large hands came around me, opened my robe, and found my damp breasts. He began to massage them almost as if he were testing their condition. I flowed freely in response.
He moved backward, sat on the edge of the bed, turned me, and mounted me on his ready erection. He gently but firmly began to manipulate my breasts with this hands and lips. I moaned as I found I was already skillfully working his member to find those sensitive locations deep inside my body. Out of nowhere I heard a series of grunts as he loudly deposited deep into me once again. I came as well. Just like that.
Finished, we stood up together. He was smiling and talking about how grand I was as he wrapped the robe back around me and we headed out and down the steps. I was unsteady. He held my forearm with one hand and encircled my back with the other arm to gently guide me. A warm feeling of appreciation passed over me.
Travis and I both smelled of a strange sweet odor. It was a lovely smell common all over the house.
Downstairs, Bobby and four or five others were spread out on the pillows, an enormous bong still bubbled in the middle. When Travis and I walked in, Bobby got up and came over to take both my hands and bring me to him. As he did, the red gown fell completely open in the front. He spread my arms to study my very white body in the semidarkness. He looked at me from head to toe, slowly and then turned me toward the pillows. He held my right forearm firmly in his right hand and gathered the red robe behind me with his left. I was completely on display to the men.
“Hey, niggers; I think I am going to let Caroline say goodnight; she sure has been a good girl, don’t you agree?”
He held me there fully exposed, looking at the group, waiting for a reply.
There was movement on the pillows.
Responses came up confused and muffled. Numerous comments about sexing me and several warm goodnights followed.
Bobby turned to me with his patented grin,
“Looks like those guys are worn out—you got any explanation for me, sugar.”
I looked at him,
“Did all of them do me, Bobby?”
He gave me a wild sagacious grin, held me there for a couple minutes, and then turned me onward until he wrapped me into an embrace and kissed me deeply.
“Each one, sugar, each one and a couple more that already headed out; they all came up to visit and came down delighted.”
We started to walk toward the door, and then stopped,
“You know the talk around the bong all night was who was doing who up there. They all come down saying you were up there still wanting more. I wouldn’t let anyone new go up unless I got the report that you were still out of your skull wild up there. I can’t wait to talk to Travis, he was the last. Did you still have the wild urge for his big dick?”
He smiled and looked at me.
“You tell Bobby, sugar, were you still needen more when Travis came up after all these niggers got to you?”
I looked at him and whispered,
“Yes”
My entire body responded with a shudder; from head to foot.
He was right. Even after all I had been through up there, erotic desires were again welling up out of control inside me.
How could this be? How could I have done this? How could I have come here? How could I have taken all these men on and still want more. I had become a sexual a****l.
He handed me an envelope and led me to the door. Just at the door he hesitated.
“Now you listen, sugar. Bobby has his arms open to you. You can see how you are loved here at Bobby’s. You understand now, right?
The whole world out there may treat you like shit, but here I have the real answers for you. You can come to Bobby and stay all knocked up like you should. You come here and we do what’s right by that black bump down there. Think hard about it. I got good ways to make it all happy for you. Ok?
I gently kissed him,
“I will think about it.”
I promised as he opened the door. I hesitated. I honestly did not want to leave—I did not want to return to all the emotional uncertainty of the “other” world. It was safe here. I was appreciated by everyone here. I was loved here.
He could read my mind,
“You better get on your way. Just remember Bobby can take care of it all right here. You come back whenever you need to honey. Just think careful about what is best for that little guy.”
It was still broad daylight. I was shocked by the unexpected bright light. I had the envelope in one hand and was trying to hold the red robe closed with the other. Instinctively, I reach up to cover my eyes and the robe fell open as I gingerly made my way down the steps toward my car. There were several young black boys throwing a foot ball next door. There were a couple older black guys in the driveway near the old garage in front of the car. They all stopped and watched as I descended the steps.
My nude body shuddered uncontrollably as I struggled to cover up in the bright light and open the door to my car. I threw the envelope on the other seat of the Mustang and backed out to the street. It was five by the car clock. A strange feeling; almost a feeling of satisfaction, came over me. I had whored. I had probably sexed more than a dozen different black men. I had proven Bobby was right. I no longer had that internal debate. I now had ample evidence I was exactly the “type” of girl Bobby thought I was from the very beginning.
My mind turned numb as I drove. I was much, much calmer inside now. How could I have such a warm sense of accomplishment?
At the first red light I pulled the contents out of the envelope; $4,400 and note in big writing.

Loved to see you sugar. Come back soon.
You are loved. No one loses.


I glanced at all the money. It said something for sure.
This afternoon, Bobby had proven something I had worried about for some time. He had the power to drive me out of my mind and convince me to do anything he wanted—what’s more he would make me love doing it for him. .
The big revelation here today was how much he wanted me to join him and have this baby. What an option. How confusing. I had to admit it had a certain strong appeal. It would be an easy, uncomplicated solution was I alone in this—if I did not have a good home life where expectations for my future were so high. No one at home knew of my “new” challenge, I was still the good little cute virgin in their eyes. I was someone with a very bright future that did not include having a black baby at nineteen years of age. If I got rid of this I could easily return to that normal life where everything was suburban perfect.
Things were quiet when I arrived at home. I snuck in from the garage. My dad was gone on a business trip and mother was up in the shower. Thank goodness. I was still wearing nothing but the very small red velvet robe with my tattered white top underneath.
I slid through the kitchen, glancing around like a deer in headlights as I quietly made my way quickly and quietly up the steps and into my bathroom.
A strong compulsion took me into the full length mirror behind the bathroom door. I looked in the mirror to find a young, blonde, pregnant whore looking back with warm loving eyes. She was dressed in the cutest short, red silk robe. My image causes my heart to jump. It was a shocking contrast to my image before I shoplifted. In a strange way I liked this girl better—she was much more interesting. She had no time to be bored, for sure.
I showered carefully. Everything seemed in order. I had just a few love marks on my breasts and neck. Down below I was amazed how “ok” everything felt. My sex was pink, tender and swollen but otherwise just very sensitive. Had they used condoms? Did it really matter? My fingers explored. Any question regarding condoms was answered quickly. My sex had really tightened, but as soon as it was gently spread I learned I was as loaded as a girl could possibly be.
As I returned to washing, I was again aware of that all too familiar tingle down below. The erotic compulsion I lived with had grown stronger big time.
A shower felt so good. I did something I had never done, as I gently washed my sex, I tried to open it and discharge all I could. I succeeded a bit, but it gave me a hollow feeling, I quit. A strange erotic feeling came over me. What they had given me was put there in an act of unmitigated love. I had been treated so sweetly by each of them and I owed it to them, and to Bobby, to keep every bit of it. It was such a loving feeling. I am a strange woman for sure.
Once showered, I tumbled into my bed wearing just panties, in case any of their little devils decided to travel in the night. Sleep was easy. Mother came up at seven to ask about food. I told her I had a touch of tummy flu. She did the forehead touch thing and said I had a little temperature.
I fell asleep thinking about the solution Bobby had offered. He had offered a way out for sure. It was crazy, but it had a crazy appeal. It was so simple. I only had to let nature take its course as it should. Those interracial babies were so cute. I drifted off.







NEW APPROACH



I slept through to six in the morning.
At six thirty I called Jamal.
At ten I had showered again, dressed in shorts and a long sleeved top and headed to 1466 High Bluff Court.
What a contrast to where I had been yesterday. Jamal opened the front door and let me into a lovely airy well decorated two store condo.
He was all business. We went to the kitchen table; he pushed a cup of black coffee in front of me and sat down opposite me. Not one casual social word; not one question. I could tell he had been doing a lot of tormenting, thinking and research. He started right in,
“Caroline I have had nothing else on my mind since I last saw you. I have made a lot of calls, read a lot of stuff and I have come up with some solid recommendations. Here is what I think we should consider.
First, we need to know exactly what is up with you. By all I have read there is not possibility of an abortion at this point; too much time has been allowed to pass. So I have arranged for a full physical with the maternity people at Grady Hospital.
First if you have any health issues we will address those with top priority.
Following that, if things are as I suspect, I think this is how we should proceed.
With the assurance that you are healthy and abortion is not an option, I have come up with three ways we can possibly go with this pregnancy.
I want to discuss these carefully right now so you have time to think them through before we move on one of them.
First, the option I prefer—I want you to think about our getting married quickly. We will go to your mother and dad together and face the music. I will plead our case for getting married and raising the c***d together. You will move here to my condo. You will have the baby with my full support and whatever involvement your parents want to have. Once our baby is here and you are back to normal, you can leave me if that is what you then feel is best. I will give you whatever I can to help you bridge back to your world. I will gladly raise our c***d alone. Caroline this k** might be my only hope for a family. I would be so proud to have an offspring.
Second choice, if that first option has no appeal here is another possibility and one that limits the amount of involvement your parents have. I was stationed at Fort Sherman in the Panama for a long time. I ran a big section of the jungle ranger training facility down there at Toro Point and it became my home for over six years. I bought a small place which I couldn’t sell when I came back. Caroline, I will put my neck way out and facilitate your running away with me. We will go to live in Panama together. Down there, there will be no shame, no grief. We can have the baby and live there. You can stay with me as long as you want, married or unmarried; your choice. Interracial couples and c***dren are unnoticed there. You can have whatever relationship with your parents seems best as we move along, and come home at anytime.
Third if neither of the first two options have merit. We can level with you parents and if they agree; you can stay at home knowing I will pay for everything…everything. I will sign court papers giving you the right to put the c***d up for adoption or, should you decide to keep the baby I will guarantee both of you a benefit until the baby is twenty. I will fight any battle for you and do anything to make it work out for your best interest. I know this sound like a tough solution. You mom and dad would have every chance to punish you in so many ways if they desired, but it is a solution that would work ok with their love.
He fell silent; took a drink of his coffee. I had never watched a human being tormented the way Jamal was. His face was filled with emotion; remorse, self loathing, and depression.
I got up walked around and placed my hand on his shoulder. I bent to gently kiss his cheek. He was warm, perspiring,
“Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Jamal. I know you’re worried. I appreciate your concern. Thank you for what you have done. Thanks to you I finally have a real program with real people and something that makes sense.
Let’s say no more until we get the report from the doctor. We need to know for sure what is up, right.”
He nodded agreement.
He sat silently looking at me. His eyes were filled with compassion and concern. I asked about the details for the Hospital visit tomorrow. He handed me a white appointment slip.
There was a short conversation most of which I have forgotten. He wanted to take me to the hospital; to be there to hear the results and plan the next step immediately. I want to go alone. I won.
I just had too many mental and physical issues to have him there with me. Both of us seemed satisfied to say nothing more until the appointment was over tomorrow.
By eleven I was back on the road home.
As I drove I was overtaken by a panicky feeling. What in the world would Jamal have done today if he had known about my outrageous field trip to Bobby yesterday? While he was tormenting over my problems I was whoring. I was allowing that asshole Bobby to use me as a wanton whore. I was freely satisfying my wild kinky needs with a variety of black guys while Jamal tortured with my problems. How terrible can one girl be?
I had to force myself to stop that type thinking and move on. My mind settled on the options he suggested for the future.
Why was it he, as well as Bobby, seemed to think the only correct decisions for me involved keeping the baby? What strange thinking drove them center every option on that?
For the first time I tried to think through what was really going on inside me if I stepped away from what was best for my parents. I was eighteen. What was best for me? First I had to admit to myself the overwhelming erotic desires which were with me constantly now. Desires that could bubble uncontrollably to the surface at anytime. Desires that yesterday drove me to become a sexual a****l; to recklessly and shamelessly do what I did to gratify a****listic passions that had taken possession of me. I sure was not mother material, but I knew the possibility of becoming the mother of a big black baby contributed immensely to my licentious needs.
I found myself utterly lost in thought. What conflict; the ultimate war between good and evil.
My mind was on hype active. I cannot remember arriving at home.
I sort of woke up in the kitchen, sitting at the island. I was a case of nerves. I tried to eat half a sandwich. I was alone, mother at the charity, dad out of town.
One by one, things rattled through my mind.
I had rarely been to a doctor, never been to a hospital. The whole thing scared me beyond belief.
Next, I sort of came to, buried in my walk-in closet slowly sorting through my tons of clothes. One piece at a time I was looking for the most conservative, loose fitting, shapeless items I could find. As I sorted them out, I hung each baggy item on a rod to the side and then I even began to rearrange those, to put the most conservative ones in front.
Dinner and the evening were a long nightmare. Mother was tired, watched a little TV and finally went to bed. I went up to my room at the same time. It was ten but it seemed like it should have been midnight.
I showered and examined myself. All the marks I had received at Bobby had either disappeared or turned very light. My breasts were very full and uncomfortable, my nipples distended and damp. The doctor would sure notice that. My tummy was…well my tummy; what else can I say. For the first time in my life I had a tummy. I put on a long night gown and crawled into bed.
For a moment I actually fought to overcome the sensual feelings that immediately returned me—that uncontrollable tingle in my sex. How could I be getting turned on when I face what I did in the morning? Perhaps having this baby would be the easy way out. All I had to do was nothing and it would happen. I hated medical stuff. No way was I going to sleep, but…





REAL MEDICINE



Morning light streaming in the window lit up my bookcase and me as well. It was eight. Plenty of time
My outfit was already selected on the special rod; long dark pleated skirt, white short sleeved blouse with breast pockets, new white panties, new white bra—it was too small/I was too big—white slip on shoes. Mother stuck her head in my room around nine to tell me she was off to the Wish Foundation. She hardly looked at me. No questions. I just said the old “have a good day.”
The hospital was thirty minutes away the timing was perfect.
Reception at the hospital outpatient was overly nice; the sweetest old white ladies who all seemed to know my problem. They handed me a clip board with my record on it and ask me to confirm and correct the items.
My first shock of the day was when I realized my medical record reflected Jamal’s address, phone number, cell phone, and email. Of course, he had to set it up that way; very smart, very safe.
The wait was short. The nurse was short and sweet. The doctor was short, white and cute. The physical exam was long. The table was cold. The stirrups were high. The doctor disappeared beneath the sheet I was cover with. He was there for a while but he did nothing that created a reaction on my part. Nothing pleasured, nothing pained; it was just uncomfortable.
Finished the doctor went over to sit on a little round stool at a corner table and the nurse helped me sit up on the end of the examination table.
The doctor wrote endless then looked up,
“Well young lady here is the verdict. You are in very good health. All your parameters are exactly where they should be. Your pregnancy is progressing well. I would roughly estimate you are about at the end of your first trimester, but I am going to send you across the hall for an ultrasound and then we will talk further about that. The ultrasound helps pin down more accurately how far along you are and tells us a lot about the health of the fetus. You have on record you may have had the meaningful intercourse May 16. As of right now I would that was when conception occurred, making you almost exactly three months along.”
He smiled.
“I will say no more until I have a look at the ultrasound.
See you again in a few minutes.”
He walked out and the nurse took over to facilitate my getting to over to the imagery department.
It took the better part of an hour to complete the ultrasound and get back to the examination room, but once back, the doctor came in shortly with the results in his hand. The ultrasound confirmed I was carrying a very healthy fetus, which was very large considering the conception date that was entered on my record. My heart jumped as the Doctor turned the viewgraph so I could see the development of my baby. The Doctor smiled, but I could not look at it. He turned it away and gave me a summary sentence,
“You are twelve weeks along and everything looked good.”
“Do you have questions?”
I was stunned into silence. There were so many things, so many questions, but not one that I could get out of my mouth.
With that the Doctor started to wrap things up. He indicated I would have a final conversation with his nurse and he opened the door. I was finished with the examination.
In his outer office I was given a sheet of release papers that dealt with taking care of me and the pregnancy…a full page on confidentiality…and a very small sheet on options.
I was panicked. The summary was I was healthy, pregnant, and out the door. It appeared the only thought they all entertained was strictly that I was going to be a mother.
Then almost as an afterthought, the doctor reappeared at the door to the examination room and asked me to come back in for a moment. He shut the door and turned toward me.
“I almost forgot to mention, if termination is your desire after a conversation with the father, it might be still possible. You are right to the very limit.”
I turned back into the outer office. A strange complex feeling passed through me. I sat down as my head spun. It was here. This was the biggest decision of my life; school, family, friends, and a normal life on one side—those interracial babies at the mall on the other. I sweat through the options for about ten minutes and then had a frank conversation with the nurse. She was blunt about my next step.
I left the hospital about noon and went directly across the street to the woman’s health clinic as she directed. My decision had been made. I could not just think about myself and the baby, I had to consider how an interracial pregnancy would kill my parents. Socially it would be a disaster for them. I was so important to them. I was an only c***d and this would be their grandc***d, and the center of their life.
The WHC was brim full of business…it always is in late August I guess. After endless waiting and conversations behind the desk, they were able to squeeze me into a Friday appointment next week. It was there only opening and actually the very last day they could legally terminate me. What good luck.
I went to a small cubical and met with a young female clerk to work out the details for my appointment. A sheet of instructions for next Thursday, an appointment slip for Friday, and I was out the door.
Wow I cannot describe my jubilation as I walked out to the parking lot. The sun was bright. I had made my tough decision. My world was coming back together.
The Mustang knew the way home. I was absolutely gleeful. Nothing else could describe it. Next Friday was going to be hard and scary, but nothing compared to some of the things I had been through during the last twelve weeks. How lucky can one girl be…they caught it in time…they can do it right here in safety…Jamal turns out to be an angel…everything is paid for…no one in my family will know…I can go to college on time…no more nightmares about seeing fat white women with black k**s in the mall…I can date Kyle with my head up…My normalcy is back…I turned into the drive at home.




KYLE




I raced through the house. I had to keep busy. I dressed in one of my selected conservative outfits, got a bite to eat and drove to Wish Foundation. It was a Friday afternoon and things were quiet, but the luckiest Central High grad ever went about busy work like crazy. Dad would be home from his weeklong trip in time for dinner. It would be so great to see him and be able to look him in the eye. Maybe the three of us could catch a movie or something other than just TV. I felt like a ton had been taken off my shoulders.
In an idle moment when I was supposed to be monitoring a silent phone bank, I thought about Kyle. These thoughts only served to strengthen my resolve that the decision had been correct. Now I could continue with Kyle.
Kyle was the best boyfriend I could have. He is cute, smart, motivated and very attracted to me. Only now, after the nightmares of the last two months, could I really see how perfect he was for my life.
In two weeks he will be off to college to study engineering and I will be off to study computer science and math. He will be about two hours away from Monroe to the south, and I will be about the same to the west, but it is like a triangle, the two schools are only an hour apart and we both will have cars at school. We will see a lot of one another.
As I sat there thinking this through, Kyle kept getting more and more attractive to me. He could well be the perfect guy for my life. We could continue to see one another in college and maybe really make something of this.
Kyle really loved me. I will now have a proper relationship with him. A good sexual relationship with Kyle would be the very best answer to the erotic compulsions that dominated my thinking all the time now. Proper sex with a proper male; would be so wonderful. It was the way things were supposed to work between a man and a woman—college, engagement, marriage, and family.
My thought pattern turned dark. I had not honestly been treating Kyle very well. For the last four months of our senior year, he had tried everything to get closer to me but I had put up so many barriers. Then, as I got close to graduation all hell broke loose in my life. I was so preoccupied with all these shoplifting challenges; I had been terrible to him. I was the worst possible date for the prom.
Beyond all that, a strange hollow feeling kept sneaking into the back of my mind. I am now very used merchandise. Where before, I had placed myself on a pedestal; I was…a virgin…so cute…so well built…such blue eyes…so many good friends…and such a future. Kyle did not deserve me.
Now, if I faced the truth, there was no way I deserve him. He was good and kind and in love with me and I was now a nineteen year old pregnant, felon shoplifter, who has had sex with at least a dozen older black men. I had gone from stuck up cute virgin to promiscuous tramp in one day at Mallmart.
For reasons you understand I had not talked to him except two short calls all summer. Was he still available? Would he want to talk to me?
I picked up an idle phone in front of me and in ten minutes I had a date with Kyle to hang out tonight. Immediately my new euphoric outlook soared to new heights. With Kyle in my life and this pregnancy behind me, things could not only get back to normal next week, but I could have new dreams and goals that made my life right and my parents proud.
As I drove home thoughts crossed my mind. All those months he had wanted to have sex with me and I had never let him get close. I had been so concerned about my self- image, morality, and pregnancy. My virginity was just about the most important thing in my life. Now, it was all gone. I had nothing to lose, absolutely nothing. Maybe I could find a positive in this big negative. What a way to bring him close to me. College would seem much less lonely if I had a boyfriend.
My thoughts finally crystallized.
“Kyle my good friend, you are going to have your way with me tonight”.
It took just two phone calls to set it all up.
Kyle picked me up at seven. My parents could not have been happier, they showed it openly. You would have thought Kyle was a prince. Dad greeted him warmly. Mother hugged him with a big smile. He was dressed like a preppy college guy, so good looking. I was wearing the same longer skirt and the white top; with the blouse hang out it was cute enough and very safe.
My parents were headed out to a card game. No way would they be home before midnight; plenty of time for this preppy guy to have the treat of his young lifetime.
Kyle and I walked out hand in hand ostensibly to head for the mall and a movie. He was driving his dad’s blue Cadillac; this was a special occasion. As he opened the door for me, I turned and kissed him on the cheek. I could see the surprise in his eyes. I could tell my lips were warm against him. I knew I sent a message. He could hardly drive. I took his right hand over into my lap and held it gently; another message. He kept looking over at me. He drove right past the mall to a motel.
No more than twenty minutes later, he was a hundred dollars lighter and we were in a very nice motel room together. He sat on a chair by the desk. I turned back the bed spread, kicked off my shoes and sat down, propping up with two big pillows. We talked a few minutes about how busy we had been with summer jobs. I told him how much I had missed him. I played with the TV controller until I had a music channel. He talked a little more, this time about summer soccer. I got up and turned the lights off except by the bed. I went back to the bed and made sure my longer skirt was well up above my knees as I sat back down and lifted my knees a bit.
I patted the bed beside me. Kyle came over. He nervously continued to talk soccer. I reached for him and brought him close. We kissed as high school k**s do…nothing. I wrapped him in my arms and slowly he started to come alive. His face had the wildest look as he came over on top of me. We kissed again…nothing. I lifted up and slid my new white panties off. He came down onto me. He was still fully clothed. I lifted my skirt up around my waist. We kissed…nothing. I spread missionary style for him. I heard his zipper. There was an embarrassing hesitation. I reached over and turned off the bedside lamp.
In the dark I brought him up between my spread legs and reached down to guide him to me. It took several moments. It was awkward. Finally, he found a position and I could move it against me. I brought it upward along my damp lips and—and that was it. A massive explosion of moisture filled my hand and told me he had finished.
Kyle jumped up from the bed and fixed his trousers. I turned on the low bedside light. He looked down at me with a most embarrassed expression. A strange thought passed through my mind. I guess I had now had one white guy along with my twelve or more blacks, but I wasn’t sure; what a different, disappointing experience.
He stood nervously as I got up from the bed and straightened up.
We left the motel room in a hurry. We had been in the room only twenty minutes. Kyle apologized all the way back to my house. He gave me every excuse he could think of. I tried a couple times to tell him everything was ok, but finally I gave up and just rode along in silence. My mind was somewhere else, somewhere I did not want to admit, even to myself. I arrived home after sex with my panties on.
My parents were out. Kyle came in at my invitation and we sat on the couch in the living room. He immediately started to talk about colleges. Then he talked more about soccer. The only intimate topic was a short comment from him about how much he loved me. My mind was somewhere else. He gave me a school boy kiss goodnight as he went out the door. He was gone at nine with all kind of promises about going out tomorrow night as well.







EXASPERATION



I went up to my room and undressed. All thoughts of Kyle faded as erotic thoughts literally flooded my brain cells. I cannot tell you how much I needed Bobby sitting on the edge of my bed. I really did not care if Kyle ever called me again. My feelings for Kyle went down like a pricked balloon. He had nothing that interested me. Sexually I had been taken way beyond the point where Kyle would ever have anything to offer. I knew instantly all my earlier thoughts about a future with Kyle were up in smoke. That was over.
I still had my panties on. I went around my room like a possessed woman. The erotic tingle between my thighs just continued to increase. Kyle had done nothing to satisfy my all consuming need for sex. I was drawn along like a moth to a flame.
My parents never got home until midnight. I had plenty of time to just drive by Bobby’s and just see what was happening in the hood. I would do nothing more than just get closer to the only place I knew held sexual answers. I had to get to 2247 West Branch. All sense of reason was gone—my base corporal desire dominated me completely. Nothing else made sense.
I quickly put the same clothes back on.
My Mustang took about forty minutes until I was driving down West Branch. It was dark. It was warm. There were three or four blacks setting on Bobby’s porch. I went fifty feet past and turned in the alley. On my way back Bobby himself was standing in the street. He simply pointed back along the house.
As soon as the motor stopped, Bobbie opened my door, lifted me forcefully into his arms and drove his tongue into my mouth. He held me like this right there in the driveway, just swaying back and forth. As he turned me toward the house I could see at least five big blacks watching from the street. Bobby led me up the back steps and into the back room. My panties were wet from his greeting. I tried to act civilized. To hide the outrageous erotic needs dominating me.
“Bobby, I have just come to talk for a few minutes. I have had some really good news. I have had some wonderful things happen that I want to share with you. Would you let me talk with you for a short while?”
Bobby took both my hand and backed me toward the couch. I sat down as he knelt on the floor directly in front of me,
“Sure sugar, I would love to hear your news, but first I got a couple things I really need to say to you, and then you can tell me all about your good stuff.”
As he was talking his head went under my skirt. He used his shoulders to spread my legs wide. My body shook all over. I heard the snap of a switch blade, and from under my skirt his left hand came out to hand me the remains of my new white panties. Bobby’s arms went back under my skirt and around my bare bottom as he pulled me forward toward him. His tongue came from nowhere to part my lips and find that part of me he knew so well. He pulled and I collapsed backward. My impulsive reaction to his suction drove my sex forward. His lips grabbed more and drew inward even harder. I moaned and collapsed forward over him as I attempt to protect myself by enclosing his black kinky head in my arms. I counted six climaxes before he finally released me.
Even as I was doubled over in extreme ecstasy, I kept counting.
He finally released me and I fell backward onto the couch. He came up over me. His gym shorts were already around his knees. His left hand lifted my head making me watch as his right hand guided his enormous black erection deep into my white body. I lifted impulsively, arched upward, and distinctly felt him deep within as he released. I could not believe I had such power over this man. I had taken him over the top so easily. Twelve times he stroked and each time a major deposit surged into Caroline Webster. I responded, convulsing with each stroke.
He lifted from me and stood up looked down smiling,
“That was what I needed to say to you lady; any questions?”
I murmured,
“No”.
I could hardly speak. I was too weak to sit up. I lay there on my back fully exposed, braced upward on my elbows.
He grinned, his wide, ear to ear, grin,
“Well what was it you want to say to me?”
I looked up at him,
“I can’t remember.”
His smile got even broader, got up and went over to open the back door. Two guys I had noticed out front, walked in. They must have been waiting right outside the door. He said something to them I couldn’t hear and they walked across the room and dropped onto two big dark pillows on the floor.
Bobby came back to sit beside me on the couch. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder,
He looked at me with his patented smile.
“I am glad you came to your senses about all this and came back. You know we got all the answers right here, don’t you?”
I was dizzy with erotic energy. I looked at him for approval.
“Yes.”
He hugged me and smiled,
“Couple of my good buddies over there would love your attention.”
My skirt was long enough it covered my knees, but I reached down to move it upward exposing my legs.
I looked at him and gave him the smile he liked.
“You mean like this?”
I asked.
His smile widened. I could tell he was pleased with me.
“Bobby thinks you’re ready to give them the attention they want, baby.”
I turned to look at the two of them lounging on the pillows, waiting.
As I looked away at them, Bobby reached over an unbuttoned the top buttons of my blouse.
I made no effort to cover up. I was somewhere else. I was driven by an outrageous passion I now accepted. This man had such methods for arousing me.
I saw a flash of steel as he slashed the middle of my bra. I leaned forward as he nipped the shoulder straps and in one tug released me. My breasts fell forward and hung there, enlarged, heavy, swollen, and heaving for their entertainment.
He looked down at me,
“Sugar, you’re telling me our conversation is over.”
I nodded, yes.
“You get over there a pillow have fun with those boys. I’ll see you just a little later.”
As I struggled to my feet and moved in the semidarkness I began to realize how big these guys really were. They were very big, very black and stern looking. They both reached up to take my hands and forearms to help me as I came down onto a designated pillow between them. Their black arms encircled me in the darkness. One lifted me slightly while the other moved my skirt above my waist. My bare sex was elevated on the pillow, damp and slightly spread. Black hands and fingers were all over me. One of them quickly separated and found my most sensitive spot. I moaned loudly and arched upward as two other big black fingers entered me as deeply as they could go. They clamped down and I lost it—wild convulsions over took me.
I could hear one of them trying to talk to Bobby,
“Man, this is something real special here. How lucky can we be? This is so young, cute, and all knocked up. You are some black stud. You do the deed to her?”
Bobby was already moving toward the stairs,
“Niggers, you just shut the fuck up and be special good to her.”
His voice trailed off as he headed up the steps leaving me.
Not another word was said as the two of them consumed my breasts, one from each side, as they continued to work my all over my body. I was flowing freely. Time after time uncontrolled convulsion over came me. I wrapped my arms around their heads and drew them closer to try and keep my responses under some control.
The next hour was out of this world. They worked independently, one on each side. They drained at my breasts while at the same time drawing my legs apart to work my inner thighs and vagina.
At some point they began releasing from one breast at a time to move down between my thighs and give my enlarged clitoris the same treatment. As soon as one was attached to my clitoris I would climax violently and they would trade places. One would move back up and the other would go down on me.
Cycle after cycle until the one on my right moved me up on the pillow, I spread missionary for him and he entered me. I remember moaning loudly as he began to work deep in my vagina while his buddy still worked my left breast. Time lost all meaning as he stroked firmly, causing repeated shudders through my entire body. Finally, he had all he could take. His gentle strokes turned almost vicious as he pumped and unloaded deep against me.
Finished he rolled to my right side onto my arm and nuzzled my breast as I cradled him.
“You are the sweetest thing, little girl. Who the hell is the lucky guy who nailed you?”
“Most likely Bobbie”
I whispered, knowing that would be acceptable and stop all questions.
As I was holding number thirteen to my ample breast, number f******n had moved down, spread my legs and introduced his enormous phallus into my body. I trembled with sexual excitement, again, and willingly responded as he went to work on me. I could not believe the way my internal contractions kept growing stronger and stronger. I still had such sexual needs. Finally f******n delivered deeply and fell down beside me cradled in my other arm to relax firmly attached to my left breast.
They lay bound tightly to me resting in the semidarkness.
I cannot describe the physical relief they were providing my enlarged, lactating breasts. It was like feeding twins I kept telling myself, but that thought introduced its own form of special panic...twins? The three of us lay there bound together in a wonderful après’ sex glow until we could hear Bobby saying something upstairs as he started down the steps.
Slowly both guys released my breasts and got up like gentlemen to help me to my feet. I straightened my skirt and the remainder of my blouse. My blouse still provided a little cover once tucked into my skirt.
Bobby said goodbye from the bottom of the steps as together the black guys who had me by both arms, walked me out the back door and down the steps to my car.
It seemed like there were black face looking at me from all directions. My black lovers each kissed me goodbye. I got in the car and sat composing myself for a couple minutes taking note of how my body was already reacting to the attention I received just coming out to my car.
As I drove home I took stock. I had taken on number thirteen and f******n for sure. I had been possessed by erotic desire earlier in the evening, before I got to the motel with Kyle, but these intense needs were only satisfied once I got to Bobby’s. My breast had been bothering me all evening but not now. They had been well serviced at Bobby’s as well. Maybe Bobby was right. Maybe all my answers could be found with him in the hood. What an adventure that would be—but stop daydreaming and drive. I was a much doted upon white teenager, an only c***d; and there were enormous expectations for me. My future had been planned out for years. Everything was to be correct and upstanding—college, marriage, family, and career. If my family and friends every knew the truth about me now it would kill them, let alone if I went on and had a black baby.
Plans were all in place at the clinic; stop thinking about anything else. Get back to normal.
NIGHTMARE




Release from sexual need is short lived for pregnant Caroline. As I drove home I could already feel my breast starting bother me and an erotic craving starting to take control of my lower body. Wearing no bra and no panties only add fuel to the fire.
As I drove along, I forced my mind to a new topic. I had to get Bobby’s ideas out of my mind. No way could I ever go through all that. No way could I consider having a black baby as the solution. My family was way too important. Their life style in a posh suburb of Monroe was too important. My future was too important.
I worked at realigning my thoughts and as I did, I was amazed at how euphoric I felt about my upcoming medical solution. The decision was made. Thousands of girls do it. It was the only way to go. I drove along happily. It would be such freedom to have all this behind me.
I was one happy camper as I pulled into the garage at midnight. Mother and dad had just gotten home and were sitting at the table in the kitchen. No way past them. I gathered my blouse around me and held it with my arm as I walked bravely across to the refrigerator, got a glass of juice and sat on a stool such that the island hid most of me.
I could feel their eyes following every move I made. I could sense that something was wrong, very wrong. I looked at them across the room and tried my best to smile a normal smile.
My dad had always been my advocate. My mother and I had been close, but my dad was always the one who was stable and would help me with problems. Before puberty I actually thought we were too close. There were times he got into my business much more than most fathers; Indian girls, shopping trips, etc. After twelve, or so, thing changed a little. He had received a promotion which required that he travel a lot more, but still he was the one I could count on for level headed advice. Mother was flighty, but dad had such a level head.
Tonight he sat just looking at me with a glare I had never seen. If looks could kill I was dead. He was bubbling over with anger. He kept looking, just fiercely looking; not a word. His eyes would not leave me. He was shaking with anger. Nothing broke the silence.
Was he dismayed by what I was wearing? I had come home with nothing on except my pleated skirt and my white blouse in ruins. Had he gotten a glimpse? Could that be the cause? No way! That would cause embarrassing questions perhaps, but never these horrible looks. His face was contorted into an expression I will never forget. He was seething with hatred.
My stress caused my mind to play games with me. In the middle of all his anger, all I could see was my new white bra, and my new white panties cut to shreds by switch blades tossed into a pile at Bobby’s; all I could feel was what was going on inside my body. It was so complex. In the face of the most vial hatred I had ever experienced, I was immobilized with erotic craving. I had lost touch with reality.
Finally he spoke. His voice was almost unrecognizable; it was fierce, low and focused,
“Caroline I’m not going to ask you what is going on. I am not going ask you where you were tonight or why you come home in that condition. I don’t want lies. You have never lied to me and any answer you give me now will be a damn lie and we both know it. I am not going to give you some horrible inquisition and back you into corners. Instead I am going to tell you what we know and what you are going to do to deal with it.”
With that my father started into the most disturbing lecture I will ever hear. It was filled with vitriolic hatred. It seems two big explosions had occurred over the past hours while I was at Bobby’s.
First was Mildred at their country club card game. As soon as my parents got to the club this evening she took them aside to fill them with gossip. She was certain I had come into the woman’s clinic at Grady Hospital.
The busy body ran records for admissions, thus she had access to my records and do I have to say any more. She had nosed into my file, found out what was going on with me; and also all the Jamal inconsistencies on my record. She had become alarmed and just felt it was her civic duty to report everything to my parents “for my safety”.
Second, while I had been at Bobby’s my “boyfriend” Kyle had called several times and left very disturbing telephone messages. It was obvious to my parents something was very wrong and he really needed to talk to me, tonight.
The last time he called they were back from the club, so my mother had spoken to him. It seemed to her he was an emotional wreck. He told her only that he really needed to talk to me right away.
Their conversation was short, but sufficient. It was enough to convince my parents that he was the low down culprit that had “knocked me up” (to use my dad’s words). Of course, in their opinion, I had nothing to do with it at all. Kyle’s guilt was so evident in his repeated attempts to contact me and the urgency he had expressed to mother when he finally got through.
So in summary, my parents had put everything together and concluded I was pregnant by Kyle and had a termination scheduled for Friday morning. All the Jamal stuff on my medical records was things I had dreamed up as a smoke screen to hide everything.
Fortunately, most of my body was hiding from their view behind the kitchen island. I was wet from my breasts to my knees in a combination that included tons of perspiration. I was a wreck. I sat there freezing and perspiring at the same time.
I would like to be able to recall more detail for you, but that is never going to happen. All I remember from that point is my dad continued to rant in anger and his rant was very severe. He used words I had never heard. I was physically sick and ready to up-chuck at any moment. I struggled to just stay balanced on the stool.
He ended with two conclusions cast in concrete,
One, I was not having any procedure at the woman’s clinic. The Websters just do not do things like that. Laws prohibited anyone altering my arrangements even though I was a minor…so... they were going to stand with me at the phone in the morning as I called and cancelled my appointment. That was that. I was having the baby—period.
Number two, I was to call Kyle and tell him of my revised status as the mother of his baby. I was to arrange a meeting with him and me, my parent and his parents, the very next evening at our house, at seven.
The solution was a quick wedding, no alternatives…
“Do whatever you need to do. Drop the hammer on him if necessary. Use any threat you need. We want him here; we have got to move fast, this is outrageously embarrassing. Everyone at the club probably knows already, so we will need to cover it up. We will back date everything. We will say you two ran away last month and got married out of town. This will be the major gossip item at the club. If we don’t do this right you will become a spectacle with everyone we know. We need to move fast. A quick wedding and a reception at the club to tell everyone you were married in late April in Las Vegas. This is a fucking mess, Caroline.”
I had never known my dad this mad. He was furious. He just went on and on. I did not have to lie—I never had a chance.
The calls would be early tomorrow, because dad had to leave for a long meeting at Aronow & Associates and mother was committed to helping with a Make-A-Wish bake sale at nine.
That was it; meeting over. My parents were screaming more things I will never remember as they stormed out of the kitchen and up to their bedroom.
I sat choking on a strange vomit that just rode in my throat. I could hardly breathe. I reached up under the remains of my blouse. I was hot in some places and freezing in others. My breasts were lactating everywhere.
When I could finally get down from the stool I made my way up to my room. I was so sick. I vomited twice. I dropped on my bed and just lay there shaking. I could hear my heart in my ears. I was unable to move, unable to think. Finally, I crawled into the bathroom one more time to vomit.
My world had completely collapsed. I had no options that made sense. I had no one I could call—no one to talk too.
Throwing Kyle under the bus…impossible! He was a nice, benign, preppy guy and his parents were even more preppy and boring, but if he got hit with something like this, the shit would hit the fan. His dad was a civil lawyer…do I need to say more.
Kyle had professed over and over about loving me, but that was when I was a cute virgin with a nice little ass and he wanted things to progress with me sexually. Now, knocked up by someone else he would have nothing to do with me. He was not the hero type at all. His parents, like mine, had instilled the outline for his life very deeply into his makeup. I sat shaking as I thought of Kyle and his family the day a black baby arrived if I was able to trick him.
Jamal would do anything for me, but in the light of all this, there was nothing he could do that was worth considering. His three offerings were at best pipe dreams… marrying him…running away to Panama…having a black k** here at home, with his support. Come on. These were nothing but fantasies of the highest order—there was nothing that would work with Jamal.
I sat on my bed tormenting. I could not have been more alone, more lonely, more tortured. I was as caught as a grizzle bear in one of those pipe traps. I had no way out. Nothing made sense. I looked over at my alarm clock…almost two.
My mind shut down I flopped backward on the bed, but stark terror kept my eyes wide open and tears flowed down toward my ears. I looked at the clock again...ten minutes had passed. The morning would be here inevitably. I was doomed at dawn.
I kept watching the number changing on the clock. At two thirty a light bulb came on and I sat up. I needed someone to at least know what was going on here at home. I felt like I was in real danger. What kind of hell would I face in the morning when I had to confess to my parents?
My dad was as angry as anyone I have ever seen and he thought I was pregnant by Kyle, a handsome, white, classmate with a big future. Can you imagine my morning if I confessed?
“Dad let me tell you the truth. I am a thief, a felon shoplifter, who fucked a big black security guard to avoid jail. I am three months along with your big black grandc***d.”
Get my casket ready.
I honestly could not trust my dad right now. I had never seen anyone so angry.
I needed to talk to somebody. Call Jamal...came sweeping across the dark horrors in my head. At least he should know what was going on with me in case something violent happened.
Jamal’s number rang and rang, both times I tried. There was no answer. Thank goodness. What would I say to him anyhow? He could not protect me. He had absolutely nothing to offer a pregnant white girl in an all white world with parents ready to kill her. Getting Jamal involved in any way would be nuts. Think about how my parents would react if they knew who it was that did this. My dad would have him in jail in a heartbeat, probably for life.
Call Kyle? No way. Think about it.
I tormented. There was no way to get my mind organized. Everything kept going around in a circle, faster and faster. I struggled time after time to just stop this “wheel of panic”. And every time I tried the pointer stopped on one square...Bobby.