Book One

 

Chapter One

 

"Isn't there a way we can cancel this? I'm frightened and...and it doesn't seem at all right," nervously she twisted the buttons on her blouse. "I mean the children and all."

"Look, Maureen, you agreed. He's here, down in the den. You can't back out now. We arranged it. I got my mother to watch the kids for the night. He's expecting you."

She looked down at the floor, at her feet, the red toenails, the new expensive shoes with the four inch heels. She noted the sheen of oil on her legs and the scent of the costly perfume that they could ill afford. She thought of the long evening of preparations: the bubble bath, the perfumed oil, the vigorous brushing of her hair and painting of her nails, the eye shadow and mascara, the lipstick and gloss, her new skirt and blouse, the strappy shoes. Looking up at her husband she asked, "Is he young?"

 

He smiled wanly, "No. Sorry. In fact he's probably fifteen or twenty years older than you. Maybe more than that. With these people it's hard to tell."

"My God! Maybe twenty or more years older!" She frowned, shaking her head. "All this was your idea. I didn't want to do it. I still don't. And now you say it's an old guy. Damnit, Brian!" She looked up at him, anger flashing in her eyes. "I suppose he's also dirty and a fat slob!"

"He seems clean enough even though he's wearing jeans and work shoes." He saw that she was waiting for a complete answer. "Well, honey, he is a big man, very big, maybe one of the biggest men I've ever seen. I guess you could say fat. But he looks strong, thick neck, powerful arms."

She turned away from him, facing the window. "And how does he act? Is he at least personable and polite?"

"I don't know. Seems like a serious guy. Doesn't smile. He's a little demanding. Right away he wanted me to get him a beer. He drank it right down. But he's OK. I'm sure he's OK."

She looked back at him. "But you don't know, right? You don't really know if he's OK?"

He nodded, "I guess not. You can't be absolutely sure, not with their kind."

 

"But you'll be there, won't you?"

He took a deep breath, "I'll be there, at least at first. He said he'd probably want me to leave you alone with him." He looked down at the floor sheepishly. "I told him I would."

"No!" she exclaimed, "Brian, how could you? I don't want to be alone with...with some black man...a stranger I've never seen before. My, God, Brian! Back when this insanity started, you said you'd be there, right in the room all the time."

"He insisted. That's the only way I could get him to come. He also wanted to see a photograph of you. He said he wanted a young woman who was thin and pretty. I told him you weigh about a hundred and ten and wear a size six. It will be OK. Just get into it...you know, get into it and everything will be OK."

"Does he think I'm going to let him kiss me?

Brian forced a thin smile, "Well, honey, I guess so. That's the way these things get started."

"Oh God, Brian! He's a big black stranger, someone I've never even seen. I've never kissed another man in that way. Not ever. I can't. I simply can't." She shook her head, "He'll have big fat black lips and you said he just drank a beer."

 

Brian took a deep breath, "Maybe there won't be any kissing. Don't get upset about things that might not happen."

"Did he say anything about my picture?"

"Not really. He looked at it and kind of grunted."

She stared hard at her husband. "He's probably a thug. Did it ever occur to you that I could be hurt? I mean how often do old fat black guys get next to a woman like me?" She shook her head. "I probably won't do anything. No kissing, no nothing. I'll probably back out. That's what I should do right now."

Brian looked frightened, "Honey, he's here. I invited him. You and me, talked about it. The new clothes and stuff. You got to at least see him."

"If I don't like his looks you'll just have to ask him to leave."

Her husband turned away for a moment, then turned back. "Look, Maureen, I promised this guy. He's really very big. He could break me in half."

She asked, "Did you tell him...tell him what we talked about? I mean did you tell him what you made me agree to do?"

"Now, Maureen, I didn't make you agree to anything. I just suggested a few things and you said you would."

 

"You more than suggested. After I'd had several glasses of wine, you kept talking it up, kept saying how I should do this and should do that."

"But you agreed."

"I guess maybe in the end I might have, but still..."

"Anyway, I told him and that's what he's expecting."

She twisted her hands, "Oh, I'm so sorry I let this get started. I don't want to go through with it. I really don't. I knew it was a mistake. Even when I thought he would be a nice, well built, young guy, I knew it was a mistake. I'm afraid, Brian, and it's wrong. It's very wrong. I mean we are fine: you, me, our marriage, the children, our nice house, friends. Good God, what was I thinking!"

"Well, it's too late to back out now. Like I said, we bought these new clothes and the perfume and stuff. I got him to come. And that wasn't as easy as you might think." He crossed to her and put his hands on her shoulders, "You look great, really Maureen. You look better than I've ever seen you. I mean sexy, you know...sexy and hot."

He stepped back appraising her and smiling. She did look stunning. She'd had her dark lustrous hair done that afternoon. The outline of her small firm breasts was visible under the shear white blouse. Her black skirt ended at her knees and was tight enough to mould the shape of her apple round ass. She'd wanted to wear a bra and panties, but Brian talked her out of them. Knowing she was naked under her blouse and skirt excited him. The strappy shoes with the four inch heels were terribly expensive. They'd argued about spending so much, but he'd insisted. He was glad now that he had. They bared her tiny feet and accentuated the muscle of her calves. When she stood to walk, even a bit unsteadily, the shoes forced her to move in a way that was very provocative.

She looked up at him feeling as if she might burst into tears, "Please, Brian, can't we stop before this begins. I have a bad feeling about it." She held out her hands, "Look at me, I'm shaking."

He squatted down in front of her and took her hands in his, "Maureen, honey, we've been kicking this around for months. We made all the arrangements. Now, he's here. Let's just go down and meet him. Loosen up, Maureen, get yourself into it."

Tears formed in her eyes. "You made all the arrangements. You kept pushing it and pushing it. I wish to God I hadn't agreed." She brushed the tears away and stood. He opened the bedroom door for her and followed her down the hall and then down the stairs to the basement game room.

The large black man sat on the small couch. She gasped. He was even bigger than Brian had said. She estimated he was at least six feet five and weighed three hundred pounds. His huge stomach hung over his belt. She noticed his hair was graying at the temples. The children's toys were gathered in the corner, the blinds drawn. An empty beer bottle was on the coffee table. Unsmiling, he gestured toward the toys. "You got kids?"

She swallowed holding back the tears, "Yes, they're staying with their grandmother tonight."

"Why they doin that?"

She glanced at Brian hoping he would answer but he said nothing. "Because....because it wouldn't have been....wouldn't have been..." she couldn't finish.

He nodded, "Wouldn't a been right for them to be yellin for mommy while mommy was busy spreadin her legs for a black man. Ain't that what you was gonna say?"

Her face had turned scarlet. She glanced toward the door but it was closed and her husband was next to it. Turning back but lowering her eyes she said, "No, well maybe...something like that."

"You wana be fucked, don't you? Ain't that why your husband paid me."

She spun around to face her husband, "You bastard," she said. "You even paid him!" He couldn't look at her. She turned back to the black man. "We can't afford to take the kids to Disneyland and he actually paid you to...to..."

"Yeah," he cut her off. "But now I got a look at you, I'd a fucked you for free. You got a great little body and you got fuckin class. Only thing is you're real small for a man like me." He paused to stare at her. "Yeah, real small, but I think you're gonna be good...after I break you in, you're gonna be real good."

She felt the color rise to her cheeks. I...I...don't think..." she began.

"You ain't supposed to think." He patted the couch, "You ain't ever gonna get fucked standin over there. Suppose you sit here, and ask real nice to see what I got for you."

She stepped back, "I don't want to. I don't want this to go any further. This isn't what I..."

He leaned forward clenching his fists. His face was set, his eyes bored into her, "Nobody gives a shit what you want. Now, get your ass over here before I start bustin stuff!"

She glanced back at Brian who averted his eyes. Hesitating, she crossed to sit beside him. As she sat, her short skirt rode up her bare thighs. She bowed her head and tugged it down.

"Well?" he questioned. "What was you gonna ask me?"

She half turned away from him, "Nothing. I wasn't going to ask you anything. I don't want..."

He grabbed her wrist a squeezed hard. She knew he could, with a twist, break it. "Would you...would you show me...show me what you've brought?" Her voice was little more than a whisper.

"Your husband, he told me you got a thing about wantin some black cock. That right?"

"No," she said quickly. "All this was his idea. I don't know why I agreed." She looked directly at him, "He got me drunk and kept talking and talking. I didn't want this...I didn't. I don't want it now."

He narrowed his eyes and stared at her for a moment. "Yeah, right. That's why you got yourself all prettied up. That's why there ain't nothing under your blouse cept bare titties and nothing under your skirt but a bare pussy. I'm thinking you done them things cause you got a need for what I brung you."

Again she felt her face grow scarlet. She wanted to protest, fearing her silence would cause him to believe he was right. Before she could speak, he leaned toward her. "If I take it out, take my prick out, you're gonna kiss it, right? I mean kiss the tip of it soft and sweet like you'd fuckin kiss a baby. Kiss it like you fuckin love it. Ain't that what you're gonna do? Tell me."

It was clear he wasn't asking her to respond. He was ordering her to. She looked over at Brian who nodded. There didn't seem to be a thing she could do. Brian had been right about the man being able to break them in half. "I...I... don't..." She glanced at his stern face and saw he was becoming angry, "I...I'm not sure...maybe."

"In a little while there ain't gonna be no fuckin maybe." He grabbed her wrist again, pulling her off the couch to her knees. "You think a white woman who's lookin to get herself a black lover should be sittin beside him or should she be on her knees in front of him?"

His large, powerful hand tightened on her wrist. She was afraid he might strike her. "On her knees," she gasped. She knelt before him keeping her head lowered.

"Yeah, that's the way it ought to be. Married white bitch down on her knees to the black man. Ain't I right?" She didn't answer or raise her head. "Look up at me and answer when I ask a question."

 

He was the blackest black man she'd ever seen. His eyes were hard and unblinking, his full lips unsmiling. She was terrified of him, but there was something else. Maybe it was his absolute self-assurance, his instinctive knowledge of her, his power. "Yes, this is how it should be," she said.

"Go on."

"The...the married white woman should be on her knees before the black man."

"And after you learn some rules, you're gonna suck my dick...take as much of it as you can...suck it for a long time. Say it."

His eyes held her almost hypnotically. She had to bow her head. She felt a wetness between her legs. "I...I'll take it in my mouth ...I'll do it. I mean suck your...your... cock for as long as you want me to." She heard the words she had spoken but couldn't believe she had spoken them.

"And lick my balls. Take them in your mouth. You gonna suck my dick and lick my balls?"

She clenched her tiny fists and stared at the floor wanting to get up and order him out of her house.

"Your name, Maureen?"

"Yes," she said, her head still bowed.

"OK, Maureen, I'm telling you that you're gonna lick my balls, cause you ain't gonna get fucked unless you do me good first. And you wanna be fucked. Ain't that right?"

It was several moments before she answered. Finally, without raising her head she said softly, "Yes, I'll lick your balls. I'll hold them in my mouth. I'll do what you say." Speaking the words made her feel the tingling in her stomach again and the downward rush of heat.

"Yeah," he touched her cheek, "you got a sweet mouth. You got yourself all made up and decked out and smellin good. You done that for me?"

"Yes, I did."

"That's how it ought to be. Married white woman spending the house money, spending the kids Disneyland money on clothes and shoes and perfume; makin herself pretty for the black man. Makin herself hot looking for her black lover. That's what you done, ain't it? That's what you done for me?"

She felt her cheeks burning with shame, "Yes, that's what I did. I...I...wanted to look pretty for you."

"And you spent money you don't have, money you could have used for the kids so that you could come walkin through that door over there looking hot for your black lover. Ain't I right?"

 

She thought about the money they'd spent. She remembered Sara needed new sneakers and Billy had outgrown most of his clothes. She felt the tears well up. "We...we did that. We spent money we need for other things so I...so I would look...look good...look pretty for you."

"And your fuckin wimp husband, he don't say nothing?"

She glanced at Brian, "It was really his..." she didn't finish.

"And now the pretty white woman is on her knees in front of her black lover cause that's where she ought to be, down on her knees. Ain't I right?"

She looked up at him, then lowered her eyes, "Yes," she said, "on her knees."

"You gonna beg me to fuck you. To fuck your cunt? You want it, don't you? You're startin to think about it, think about my thick black cock fillin you up, stretching your white cunt?"

She nodded even though she told herself not to. "Yes, that's what I want." She paused, then raised her head to look into his impassive face.

"And your ass?"

Her eyes widened. She looked away. "I...I didn't agree...I mean I've never done that...I don't..."