Michael changed me, once a bored Jewish housewife, now a slut for black cock. He came into my life briefly, but even my desire for sex with my husband changed. Ironic, because my husband hired Michael for a large landscaping job.
I look at his handywork, his patio, his outdoor entertainment center, and feel his thick, hard cock inside me. I get excited and wet.
He shared me with his foreman, Tony, a young black man. I enjoyed our discreet affair for a few months, but he wasn’t the alpha man that defined Michael. Sure, I loved his black cock, but something was missing.
I met an old friend from Temple, Saul, a married white man who made an overture. 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. I apologized to Saul, blaming it on me, but I had no desire for him. My dreams were of strong black men, and I knew what I needed.
Now what?
Before Michael, I was bored, but I was a faithful housewife. Now, I had a strong itch that needed scratching. I would see black men in a coffee bar, or the mall, or a gas station, or just about everywhere, I would fantasize.
I remember one time, early on, I was looking at this black man, trying to be discreet. He turned and smiled and started to walk my way. He looked confident, and I freaked out and quickly walked in another direction. When I looked back, he was gone.
Maybe I imagined it, yet I fantasized about this man for days. How he would take me, how he would continue my slut journey. I decided that next time, I would not flee.
I returned to the coffee shop where I saw this man and decided maybe he would be back. I had no idea what I would do. Throw caution to the wind, or would I freak and flee again?
I rationalized that I have become a slut, the worst thing a good Jewish housewife could be called. What would a slut do? I didn’t have an answer. I wasn’t a slut a few months ago.
The coffee shop was full of teenagers, but I decided to have my latte and sit by the window. I bought a book, and I got lost in the chapters. When I looked up, I noticed most of the teens had left. Gawd, they were annoying. Then, I saw this black man sitting across the room. He was reading some papers and talking on his cellphone. I tried not to stare, but he looked strong, distinguished in a nice suit. He had some grey hair, so I guess he was in his early 50’s. Damn, he had a wedding ring. Then again, so did I.
He looked up and smiled at me.
I guess I am not good at being discreet. I was slightly embarrassed, and I felt myself ready to flee. I gathered my book and was ready to leave.
Too late. He was standing at my table, and he asked, “Excuse me, Ma’am, I am Jerome, and what's your name? “
Jerome, he said this confidently, another ex-Marine, I thought. He looked like he was in the military, in good shape, filling out his suit. As I answered, he sat down. And I felt my submission kick in, that exciting feeling that I got with Michael.
Later, I thought how bold this man was, as he did not ask, he just decided to sit at my table, and did so. And I guess, since I didn’t protest, it was alright.
He noticed my ring and said, “I am here doing business; my wife is back home in Virginia.”
Jerome was watching me as I stumbled for something to say, telling him, “My husband is in New York City.”
He said, “A nice Jewish housewife, looking for something large and dark, true?”
I wondered how he knew I was Jewish, then I realized I was wearing a Star of David necklace. I then wondered, how did I know I was looking for something large and dark?
He said this strongly and confidently, as if he was asking what I thought of this coffee shop. It was a simple question, not open-ended. My brain was trying to determine what I should say; each had consequences. I was new to this. I could say no, and he would walk away. That would be the same as fleeing.
I did want to meet a black man, although I never thought through what I would do if I did. He did not interrupt my train of thought. He sipped his coffee and smiled. Maybe I was hoping he would say I am a whack and leave, but he waited.
The word slut came into my mind, and it seemed my body was getting impatient, so I simply nodded and looked down. Logic and sanity were pushed aside as I felt a wave of submission coming over me.
He didn’t reply, and the silence was agonizing. I felt weak and defeated. I quietly asked, “What now, Sir?”
I felt like weak prey, and he was a strong, healthy alpha-wolf. He determined that I could be his captive, and with a brief conversation, led me to his den. I wondered how many times he did this, since his response was just as confident.
He said, “Let’s go to my hotel, it’s right next door.”
He was staying at a nice Marriott, and he stood up. My body responded by arising to meet my fate.
I wondered if anyone noticed this exchange, but no one did. My brain told me I would be safe; some cameras would see us leave together. Great, my brain was thinking about safety. My pussy was getting wet, and my body could not wait to be used by the worthy man.
The young black doorman at the hotel looked me over, quite obviously, and smiled, saying, “Enjoy your afternoon, Mr. H, Sir.”
Jerome replied, “I always do, Leroy.”
My brain was satisfied; the doorman knew Jerome and saw us walk in. My body liked being checked out by this young man. Damn, I am a slut.
Once in the room, Jerome made me feel at ease, offering me some wine from the room bar. He asked about me, and we had a friendly conversation. He poured more wine, which I realized I drank fast. My submission diminished; I felt like I was with a friend.
Then he said, “I am not your first black man, am I correct?”
When I said, “Yes, I met my first man a few months ago.”
He responded, “And you want to need more n cock. You are a n slut, am I correct?”
I felt cross-examined and made sense, as I had learned he was a lawyer. I wanted to ask, “Why do black men always use the n word?”
But he asked me again, in a strong commanding voice, “Answer my question, Are You A N Slut?”
My submission roared back, and I realized, time for friendly conversation was concluded.
I nodded weakly, and he said, “Say it, my little Jewish slut.”
I knew from Michael that I should repeat exactly what he said, and I did so. Jerome seemed satisfied and had me stand and began to undress me. He went about this efficiently until I was naked before my conqueror. He looked me over and felt my breasts; his hands were strong, pinching my nipples. He said, “Never had a Jewish slut, nice breasts.”
I stood silent, taking in his compliment. I remember my short experience with Michael, “I know my place.” “Speak only when told to speak, otherwise remain silent.”
I'm not Jerome's friend; I am here to please him, to make him happy. Yet, as I also learned, this made me satisfied and happy. He ran his hands over my body; his touch sent electricity through my excited body. My pussy was getting wet, and my nipples were fully erect.
When he slid his thick fingers into my pussy, he knew I was excited to be with him. He whispered, “You are excited to be with this n, my married white bitch, isn’t that so?”
I nodded and replied, “Yes, I am excited, Sir.”
He stopped and looked at me, “Are you owned, bitch?”
I didn’t know what this meant, and he explained, “Did your n collar you? Did he make you his property?”
I still didn’t understand, but answered, “No, Sir. I don’t see Michael any longer.”
He smiled, “I see, yet Michael taught you well.”
Then he guided me to my knees. I was ready to please this man. I looked up at him, awaiting instructions, as he removed his shirt and undid his slacks.
Soon, I was staring at his fully erect cock, dark and long, as he had said in the coffee shop. He was nearly as big as Michael. I didn’t move again, remembering Michael’s instruction. Jerome was different and asked, “Slut, you don’t want my n cock?”
I didn’t reply; I was hungry for his black cock and was licking his large shaft, running my tongue over his bulb-shaped cockhead. I was awaiting instructions, since Michael and, to a lesser degree, Tony would tell me what to do. Jerome was different. He grabbed my head, but it seemed he was enjoying what I was doing.
I took him in my mouth and, using the technique learned from Michael, relaxed my throat and leaned back. His cock went deep. I still could not take it all, but I was getting there, like a good slut.
I looked up, and he was watching me and smiled. While petting my hair, he said, “You are a good little slut. I wish your husband could see what a n whore you are.”
I let the words drift through me, trying to suppress my feelings of guilt. I was betraying my husband, and he didn’t deserve this.
Jerome must have detected my hesitation, and he pulled my head and commanded me to focus, “Suck this cock, bitch.”
From that moment on, he took control and thrust his hips while pulling my head; his cock went deeper in my throat. I gagged, he withdrew his cock a bit, then went back in deep. By the 3rd or 4th time, I no longer gagged.
He moaned loudly, his body stiffened, and he commanded me, “Take my n seed, you little whore, take it.”
He came strong, like Michael and Tony, filling my mouth with numerous spurts. I could feel his seed moving up through his shaft. I wanted to take it all, swallowing as fast as I could.
I remember times with my lady friends, after a few cocktails, they used to talk about giving their husbands blow jobs. To each of us, me included, it was a wifely duty, and a few ladies didn’t do it anymore. I did not enjoy taking my husband's come in my mouth. Yet now, I love the taste and feel of black seed. I wonder what the ladies would say if they saw me now, on my knees before an Adonis, a strong, confident black man, taking his seed joyfully.
Jerome withdrew his cock and held my head with both of his hands, looking into my eyes. In a gentle voice, he said, “You are a worthy slut, I can use a bitch like you.”
I really didn’t know what he meant, but I took this as a compliment. Before I could react, he positioned me on the bed, on my back. He used his fingers, probing my pussy expertly, touching me in the right place. I moaned and wiggled uncontrollably on the bed as I experienced a strong orgasm. I was ready to take his large cock, when he did something unexpected. He moved and ran his tongue around my vulva and pushed his tongue in, tasting my juices.
I thought my last orgasm was strong; my body shook uncontrollably. I didn’t tell Jerome, but this was the first time I experienced cunnilingus.
When he stopped, he looked at me and said, “Don’t expect that often, but I know how to treat my worthy sluts. Keep that in mind.”
Confused but felt a sense of loyalty to Jerome, and I suspected that was what he was seeking. Yet no time to think, he was positioning himself over me. He propped my head up slightly, and I saw his hard cock, his large cockhead touching my pussy. The sight was erotic and amazing, ebony and ivory. He told me to keep my eyes open as he plunged into my anxious pussy.
He was fucking me hard, sometimes placing his hands around my neck. Michael did this, yet it scared me, and it excited me, at the same time. To feel vulnerable
Then he stopped and withdrew his dripping cock. I saw his shaft glistening with my juices. He rolled me over and propped my bottom up.
He told me to relax, and then he slowly pushed his cock into me, anally. Oh my god, I have never been taken this way. I heard about this, anal sex, but never found it appealing. Yet Jerome was somehow pushing his massive cock in my anus, slowly.
Then he began to slowly fuck my ass, and I was surprised; it didn’t hurt. It felt surprisingly good. I wondered what my Jewish ladies' friends would think of this. Yet, best not to share this with them.
Then I felt warm inside as he was coming. When he withdrew, his seed poured out of me, all over the bed sheets and my legs.
He rolled over, and I collapsed. We were both breathing hard, and eventually he pulled me close and cuddled me. He spoke to me in a friendly, gentle voice, without using the n word or calling me a slut. He asked about Michael and wanted to know about my life before him. He seemed genuinely interested in me.
We rested for a while, and then he got up. I fell asleep, feeling delightful, wonderful.
He told me that he had a business dinner to attend, and I should take my time, enjoy some wine, and take a shower. He told me there was a note on the desk for me. He said there was a card that you may give to Leroy, the young man in the lobby.
The note said,
“Amy, I hope you enjoyed my black cock, I enjoyed you immensely. You are worthy of a man like me. I will be back in town soon and will leave it up to you. Text me if you want to stay in contact.”
“There is a card that you can give to Leroy. I owe him a few favors, and the card invites him to enjoy your service. I think you will like being in his service. Give him your contact number.”
I knew what I would do and sent a text to Jerome. I also wrote my phone number on the card, enjoyed the wine, and took a long shower.
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3 comments
She looks good sucking tge nice cock
Nice story keep it going
A beautiful erotic tale thanks for sharing.