Fantasy: Amy discovered her desire for Black Cock – Part II

Michael’s black, hard body had infected my mind. He was the second man I had sex with, which I realize was pitiful. I married my husband James when I was eighteen and never cheated. James was dominant, as many Orthodox Jewish men were, and yet, over the many years, he became less interested in sex. We were Conservative Jews now, and I raised two wonderful children. I was bored, and although I kept myself in good shape, I was feeling unattractive. Then Michael entered my life, a landscaping contractor my husband hired. Michael turned my world upside down.

My second sexual experience was with a well-endowed, masculine, dominant black man, who seems to make it a habit of seducing many of his clients' white wives.

After my first time with Michael, my emotions ran from deep Jewish guilt to a strong need to serve this man again. When he was working on our property, I wished to feel his strong black cock inside my body. When he was away, I felt tremendous guilt.

After a week, my husband was away, and he came into my house with an invoice. His crew was working, and I was unsure what would happen. The last time, he had his crew at another property. This time, he seemed all business, coming into the kitchen, until he commanded me to undress for him. I felt a wave of submission come over me and complied. I was naked in my kitchen and felt a strong desire to serve Michael. He said he didn’t have a lot of time and felt my small white breasts with his strong hands. Pinching my nipple and then kissing and nibbling on it as well.

I moaned and felt my pussy get wetter and more excited. He pushed me to my knees and commanded me to unzip his pants. I pulled his pants and boxer shorts down and stared at his large, semi-hard cock. Even half hard, it was huge.

His voice was strong as he said, “You want this n cock, beg for it like the slutty housewife that you are.”

Slutty housewife, the words stung, but they were true, and I wanted this man’s cock. I begged and he made me use that derogatory n word. I pleaded with him, “Sir, let me have your large n cock, I want it bad.”

He asked, “Are you a slut, my little white housewife. Tell me, are you, bitch.”

I replied, “Yes, Sir, I am a slut. I am a slutty white housewife.”

That was what he wanted to hear, as he allowed me to caress and stroke his shaft. I felt his cock grow in my hands, which felt wonderful. His large cockhead filled out as he commanded me to fondle his massive balls.

He asked, “Do you want my n seed, slut?”

I replied honestly, “Yes, Sir, I want your n seed.”

He replied, “You are a fuckin slut, take it bitch.”

I felt him push his cock into my open mouth, deep and hard. I tried to relax my neck and lean back, both pieces of advice he gave me the first time. I gagged but overcame it, and he was deeper in my mouth this time. I felt the warmth of his cock and licked and sucked it, enjoying being submissive to this worthy man.

He gripped my hair and head, guiding me deep and then back so his cockhead was just inside my lips. I loved licking his smooth, large cockhead. He did too, as he moaned strongly.

He fucked my mouth hard, and I started to taste his sweet precum. Unlike last time, he kept going, using my mouth and not holding back. His cock got thicker and his balls, which I was still fondling, grew tight and within seconds, he exploded in my mouth.

He came harder this time, holding my head tight as spurt after spurt shot into my mouth. I could barely swallow when the next spurt came. When the last spurt came, I licked and cleaned his cock and felt even bit the slut.

I was anticipating his cock entering my wet pussy, but just as he finished, his foreman walked in the kitchen. It was then that I noticed the door was open the whole time. I was mortified. Did his men hear or see me sucking his cock?

Michael didn’t let me up, still gripping my head. The foreman, a young black man, did not look surprised, and Michael was just as easy-going. His still hard cock was inches from my face, as his foreman said, “Sorry to disturb you, the delivery is here, and he needs to speak with you.”

I felt the mood shift and realized he was not going to take my aching pussy.

He turned to me and said, “I got some business. Why don’t you show Tony how much you appreciate the work he was doing on my property?”

It dawned on me that Michael was giving me to his foreman. By the look on Tony’s face, this was not the first time he shared in Michael’s conquest. I was a mere prize to be taken and shared with others worthy of Michael. I was indeed a slut, although a few weeks ago, this was alien to me.

Tony was a strong man, darker than Michael, and half his age. He was a good-looking man, yet a scar on his face and neck revealed he was a dangerous man. My submission was still strong, and honestly, I needed to feel a hard, thick cock inside my pussy.

As Michael turned to leave, he said, “She is a total slut and whore for us nrs. You deserve to have some white married pussy.”

He never said a word to me; I was merely the slut and now, a whore. And I accepted this.

I was ready for whatever Tony required, yet his demeanor changed, and in a friendly tone said, “Ma’am, you’re an attractive lady, not like the last one Michael took.”

I guess that was a compliment, and I replied, “Thank you, Sir.”

He replied, “You don’t need to call me Sir, Tony will be fine.”

He noticed checking out his scars, and said, “Ma’am, I grew up in a tough place, but those days are behind me.”

I was beginning to wonder, was Tony going to take me? I felt my mood shifting.

I was still naked on my knees, and his demeanor changes, at that point, Tony said, “I loved Michael’s slutty white wives. You're going to love my n cock, you slut.”

I heard his words, but they didn’t sound genuine, but I was Tony’s prize, given by Michael, so I went along with it and said, “Yes, Sir, err Tony, whatever would please you. I am your slut now.”

He undid his pants and took my head in his strong arms. His cock was massive, even thicker than Michael’s, and maybe a little longer. I wondered, are all black men this well-endowed?

Tony didn’t have Michael’s finesse; he didn’t make me beg, and his derogatory words felt false, like he was just going through the motions. Whatever, I felt a surge of desire and submission and need. Interesting, I needed black cock. I wonder if I will feel the same with a Caucasian man?

Then I felt his large cockhead press against my lips and his hand on the back of my head pulling me towards him. I lost myself on Tony’s cock, sucking and licking it all over, and we both moaned with pleasure. He pulled my head, so his cock went deep, and I found I was able to take him. His cadence quickened as he fucked my mouth. I fondled and tickled his balls, and his body stiffened. Both hands were now on the back of my head, holding me tight, as he came strong. He loosened his grip, so I was able to suckle on his cockhead, as his hot creamy seed flowed from his massive vessel.

He withdrew and said, “Damn, love filling your mouth, Ma’am.”

I was breathing hard and just came out and said, “Please fuck me hard, Tony. Please.”

As we moved to the bedroom, he looked outside and saw the crew cleaning up. He had permission to use me for however long, and off to bed we went.

He never went flaccid, and my pussy was wet and ready. He had me on my back and slid his big black cock into my white pussy. My head was slightly propped up, and I saw the contrast, ivory and ebony. His cock glistened from my juices as he pumped me.

Unlike Michael, who fucked me like a whore, Tony’s face was calm, almost smiling. I thought he was going to kiss me, like lovers. I thought about kissing him, but I was not sure. Michael never kissed me; I was not his lover.

As he pumped me, he lowered his head and kissed me on the neck. He fondled my breasts and then looked at me, while still pumping me, and smiled.

His voice low, he said, “You’re different from the other Michael’s whores, Ma’am.”

Was Tony a lover? The thought was strangely appealing.

His body became rigid and I knew he was about to fill me with his glorious seed. I felt him come and had a strong orgasm, one of many with this young black man.

When he finished, he withdrew and I sat up and motioned for his cock to slip back in my mouth, tasting the last of his seed and my own juices.

Then we collapsed on the bed, and he cuddled me, again kissing my neck and breasts. This was indeed different. Tony was a lover, so different from Michael.

We were resting, maybe for fifteen minutes, when Michael came into the room.

He said, “Did you enjoy using this slutty little whore.”

Tony seemed to revert and replied, “Yeah, man, she was a total slutty bitch. She couldn’t get enough of my n cock.”

Tony even looked at me with disdain, a dirty white whore.

He seemed to mean it, but I suspected he was acting cool for Michael,

He told Tony to get dressed and said, “Oversee the boys, we are finished for the day.”

I didn’t know what Michael would do now, but he looked at me and said, “You really are a slutty housewife. You need the n cock.”

He shook his head and said, “I’m going to miss you, but worthy ners will know, you are meant to serve us ners, bitch.”

And he turned and walked out.

“He was going to miss me.”
“Black men will know.”

What did he mean, and why wouldn’t he use me again?

It turned out the job was finished, and my husband would be back. Yet my thoughts were about Tony. I won’t really miss Michael, but Tony, that was a different story.
In the next weeks, I found myself looking at black men as they walked by or in stores. Fantasizing. One man made strong eye contact with me and began walking towards me. I panicked and slipped off. When I was safely away, I regretted my decision to flee.

I guess I was sending off signals, bored, horny housewife, available.

A married white man made an overture; he was an old friend. He was handsome and dominant, and I felt safe. Yet when he got me in bed, I felt nothing. I didn’t even feel submissive. My dreams were of strong black men, and I knew what I needed.

Then Tony came back into my life, stopping by the house. He told my husband that he left some tools by the garage, apparently a good excuse to come back. My husband went back inside, and I walked to the detached garage. There were no tools, and he said it was an excuse to see me. He told me, “I want you, Ma’am.”

He kissed me, and I felt a strong desire, so we planned a rendezvous. He was a passionate lover for months, and then it was over. While I was with Tony, other black men came into my life. They were hungry wolves and I was weak prey. The next man that turned and walked in my direction, I froze and waited for him. I learned my place, is being prey to the strong alpha black man, presenting myself on my knees.