Fantasy: Amy's, now a slut, continues her journey for Black Cock – Part IV

I looked at the note from Jerome, still feeling his amazing body, the taste of his seed lingering with the wine. I was in his hotel room, careful not to touch anything, but I looked at his fine-tailored suits hanging in the closet. There was a Marine Ring on the counter, but little else about him.

Then there was Leroy, the young man in the hotel lobby. Once again, I realized that I was the equivalent of chattel, a form of payment for some unknown favors. I was learning that you don’t fall in love with the black man; you are his servant.

Michael said it was his way of getting back at the white man, and certainly, my husband was not easy to work for. Yet I can’t imagine that all husbands were jerks, so I guessed Michael was seeking revenge for how he may have been treated in his life.

I looked at the card again.

“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.â€

“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.â€

“If you don’t text or give the card to Leroy, I accept this and thank you for being a fine married white slut.â€

Should I text him or make him wait and wonder? Then I thought about it, he isn’t thinking of me if I don’t text. He will be hunting for his next sex subject. I sent him a text right away and said, “I want more, Sir.â€

Next, I wrote my phone number on the card he meant to give to Leroy. All his card said was “Leroy, enjoy her, I continue to owe you, Jerome.â€

I took the elevator down to the lobby, feeling sexually high, uplifted from Jerome’s vigorous usage and my own pleasure. The lobby was quiet, and Leroy was at the reception desk talking to other employees. I tried to look cool, with the card folded in my hand, as if I were giving a tip or a bribe, not that I knew how to give one.

Leroy approached me as I walked towards him.

He greets me as if I were a valued guest: “How was your visit, Ms.?â€

I gave him my name, and he repeated his greeting. It was then that I read his name tag, “Leroy, Assistant Manager.â€

I was impressed. This was a high-end hotel, and Leroy seemed so young. And I thought he was the doorman. I responded, “Yes, I did, very much.â€

It felt awkward, assuming he knew I was Jerome’s sexual object. I could still taste his seed, and yet, Leroy was the perfect gentleman.

I remembered the card and handed it to Leroy. He unfolded it and smiled. He said, “Good night, Ms. S., I will ask the valet to bring your car around.â€

I mentioned my car was at the Starbucks across the road. Jerome and I walked to the hotel.

Leroy responded, “It would be my pleasure to drive you. It is dark, and I don’t like my guests walking across the busy road.â€

I felt at ease and eagerly accepted. He walked to the reception desk and led me to the garage. He had a large SUV, which he said was the hotel's. As we approached Starbucks, he didn’t ask where my car was. Instead, he parked in a quiet corner of the lot and looked over at me with a smile.

His demeanor had noticeably changed, as he said that he appreciates Mr. H. as a valued guest of his hotel. He said, “Ma’am, we do not normally allow escorts into our hotel; we have standards and a solid reputation. “

I felt a chill. He thinks I am an escort.

I tried to tell him I was not, but he put his hand up, and I saw this man’s hidden dominance. And I felt my submission rise quickly.

He went on, “You look like a fine lady. Does your husband know you are an escort?â€

He continued, “Times are tough, what a good wife will do to make ends meet.â€
I figured it was not worth trying to correct him, and I found his dominance and youth exciting. Have I become a whore, as I accepted that I was a slut.

I said, “Leroy, I am what you wish, what do you desire, Sir?â€

He looked at me approvingly and said, “Very good, you do know your place. Let’s get in the back. I don’t have much time this time.â€

The backseat had a lot of room and dark windows. I wondered how many times this vehicle was used for sex. He removed my blouse, no bra, and felt my breasts, twisted my nipples. I felt my well-used pussy get wet all over again. He nibbled my nipples and then moved back.

He said, “Nothing like a Jewish sluts’ white tits, I do so enjoy them.â€

He undid his pants, sliding them to his ankles. His cock was hard, not as thick as Jerome’s or Michael's. But longer and a full, thick cockhead. I wondered if all black men are large, and I suddenly felt a strong need to please this young man.

He looked at me, “Jewish woman know how to suck n cocks, don’t disappoint me.â€

He grasped my head, and I was soon licking and sucking my second large cock. I felt him push his long shaft in my mouth, and I bent my head back. I was surprised by how much of him I could take. His moans gave me an indication that I was doing well.

Amazing when you think, a few short months ago, I had only had one cock, my husband's. I was a slut, there was no turning back.

He started to fuck my mouth, growling, “Suck this ns cock you whore, you slut.â€

His words, strangely, made me want to please this man even more. No one dared or had reason to call me a whore or slut, a few months ago. Now they might define me.

He continued to call me slut and whore, and added, “Bet you pussy husband would love to see you take this n, bitch.â€

For a moment, that stung but at the same time, he drove his cock deeper and I forgot all about his words. They would come back, I am sure, when I got a wave of Jewish guilt. But for now, I needed to feel his cock and taste his seed. I am a slut.

I fondled his large balls as he pushed his cock in deeper, then slid it out so I could lick and suckles is large cockhead. Then back in deep. My jaw and mouth were worn out from taking on two large black cocks, and when it began to hurt, I tasted his sweet precum.

I squeezed his balls lightly and stroked his shaft as his body tensed up. I loved sucking his cock, I loved how he felt in my mouth, but I was beyond exhausted. He grabbed my head hard, and I felt the first spurt of his gooey, warm seed hit my throat. Then a second and third spurt. He loosened his grip and I wrapped my lips around his cockhead and received a 4th and 5th spurt.

He pulled his cock out and shot his last load of seed on my face and chest.

I managed to get his cock back in my mouth and licked and cleaned his shaft, thoroughly enjoying his big black cock. He was still hard and grabbed my head again. Not a moment of rest, he was slowly fucking my mouth. Not as hard, and after a few moments, he withdrew his shaft. I collapsed in the seat.

I wondered if he would ‘fuck’ me, even with my body worn out, exhausted, I wanted his long black cock deep inside me.

He looked at me, “You want more, don’t you whore?â€

I nodded my head, but he said, “You’ll have to wait, I gotta get back to the hotel.â€
He moved to the front seat and drove across the lot to my car. When I got out, he said, “Man, Mr. H. has some wild ass bitches.â€

I guess that was a compliment. I walked back to my car, feeling every bit a slut and whore. The taste of Jerome’s and Leroy’s cock in my mouth was intoxicating.

I arrived home minutes before my husband. I changed my clothes, which smelled of sex, and washed up. My husband was too preoccupied, not that he would see something different in his wife. A slut undercover, I thought.

When the afterglow faded, I felt the same Jewish guilt. I knew it would last a few days until I received a text from Jerome. The guilt was quickly replaced by a strong desire to serve this man again.
For days, I heard nothing from either man and was preoccupied with guilt and my charitable work. I felt every black man I encountered knew, or was it just me?

Then Jerome texted me, and my heart leaped. I was ready to be on my knees for this man. However, his text said that he would not be back in the area for many months. I told him I was disappointed, that I wanted to please him again.

He texted back, “You are quite a n slut, Amy. You got the taste of n, and you need more, isn’t that true, Amy?â€

He was right, I needed more. My desire to have sex with non-Black Men seemed to have diminished; my dreams and fantasies were with black men.

He said, “Happens all the time, Amy. You've been blackened, and strong alpha men will know this instinctively.â€

When I asked how they knew, he avoided the answer, and instead, he told me, “Leroy would be calling, and you should be his bitch, I gave him permission.â€

That was it; he didn’t respond to any of my texts after that.

I waited for Leroy to contact me, and in the meantime, while shopping at a local box hardware store, I felt I was being watched. It was Noon and the store was moderately busy. The only man I saw, who might have been checking me out, was a white man, whom I didn’t find attractive.

Then I saw the driver of a forklift, who had driven by and this time, stopped at the end of the aisle. When I looked at him, he didn’t flinch; he was the one who was checking me out. I felt like I was being examined by radar. Most men seem to flinch, act like they weren’t looking, but he kept looking down the aisle. I turned around, maybe he was looking at something else.

When I looked back, he smiled and drove off.

I felt frozen, was it fear or was it my submission growing inside? From what I could see, he was an attractive older black man, bald with a small mustache and muscular arms. His smile felt like the grin of a predator with a prey in focus.

I read about the alpha black man after Jerome’s comment. Some made references to an alpha wolf out to feed his tribe. The alpha wolf can sense weakness at far distances and is a skillful hunter. I was prey, and this forklift driver was an alpha wolf.

My thoughts were interrupted by an employee who asked if I was alright. I assured him I was just lost in a thought. He asked if he could help me find anything, and I said, no. He walked off, and I refocused.

The forklift driver was not around, and I calmed my nerves and anxiousness. I was in the checkout lane and soon heading to the door. I felt a wave of disappointment, or was it relief?

As I walked out, the forklift driver was standing by the exit, and I froze. It was a strange sensation, as if we were long-time lovers communicating with our minds or bodies. I knew why he was there, and he knew it.

In a friendly voice, he spoke, “Find what you were looking for, ma’am?â€

He looked me in the eyes, perhaps searching to be sure that I was indeed prey. I looked away and said, in a low voice, “What do you desire, Sir?â€

I felt defeated, and he never said a word. I thought of the men in the temple and elsewhere who wanted to “get in my pantsâ€. How awkwardly they presented themselves, yet this man, whose name badge said, “Tyler, Associate†only asked if I found everything.

He smiled at my submissive answer. He suggested we walk to my car. He said, “I think we understand each other. You’re a fine-looking lady. Meet me here at 3 o’clock, when I am off.â€

He said, “Will that work? I’ll have you home to your husband by dinner.â€

I nodded. I felt my submission grow strong with my desire for this man.

As he walked away, he said to come to the employee entrance, in the back. I watched him walk back in. He looked strong, in his early 50’s, and once again, I was frozen. Another customer walked by, and I refocused.
Now what was I going to do for 3 hours? I wish I had girlfriends who had been “blackenedâ€, someone to talk to.

I went home and had a glass of wine. I called my husband to see when he would be home, and when he said late, 7-8pm. I felt my anxiety level increase, wishing Tyler would take me right away. My guilt told me not to go, my body wanted to be with him this instant.

I took a long shower and masturbated, with this man’s image in my mind. I didn’t get anything else done. The clock was moving so slowly.

Finally, it was time to go. My body had won out, and I had some more wine and found a nice blouse, after trying on 3-4, with matching shorts, and no bra. I was dressed somewhat the slut, and partially as a housewife. I didn’t want to be in public dressed as a slut, not that Tyler would care. I knew I was just his prey for the day. And I wanted to be his servant.

I drove to the back of the building and watched a few employees leave. I was there for ten then fifteen minutes, and my anxiety was getting high. Maybe he left.

Then I saw him walk out with another man, and they both came over. Two men. The second man was a younger version of Tyler. I didn’t have any time to react as he introduced his nephew, Charles.

Tyler asked if I would drive the short distance to Charles' apartment. He assured me that it was safe and was actually a nice apartment complex. Hesitated and pointed at the security camera, “You are perfectly safe, Ma’am.†He had covered all the bases, and I got the sense that I was not his first conquest in the store.

When I nodded, Tyler got in the front seat, Charles in the back, and soon we were at Charles' apartment. I noticed that Tyler was married, and his hands showed signs of a hard-working man.

I was being led into the alpha wolf’s lair with his nephew, and I was the prize, the prey and I was anxious to serve them both. My first time I was with two men, two strong black men. I am indeed a Married Jewish slut. And I don't regret it.