A Change of Conceptions

Nikki Kush was excited, as she stepped out of her cab in front of the hotel. She looked forward to seeing Trisha and Mike again, and hopefully, Trish's recovery from her frenzied night of taking on all those big black cocks was complete. Nearly a month had passed since she did them all.

As she rode in the elevator as it ascended to the eleventh floor, she remembered the events of that night, and how she had stepped in when the other fluffers had needed a break. Despite sucking on a lot of black cocks that night, since the event, the closest she had come to another was when a black man accidentally bumped into her at a fast food outlet up in Milwaukee. She wondered how many black men Trisha had slept with since the show; she speculated, probably a dozen, perhaps three times that many.

Despite her own openness about sex and the persona she presented on the radio show with Johnny, Trisha represented something alien to her. She simply couldn't imagine how someone could be so casual about spreading her legs and even more so, she couldn't imagine the concept of exclusivity to blacks.

All Nikki could do was equate it to an addiction, where black cock was Trisha's heroin, and her resistance to her drug had risen to the point where one black man wasn't enough. After that orgy in Vegas, would a dozen satisfy her cravings? Nikki suspected it might not.

Standing just outside Mike and Trisha's hotel room, she hesitated for a moment before knocking. Was she about to enter a room where Trisha was fucking her brains out with half of Chicago's black male population? Would there be a line waiting their turn at her cunt? She hoped not.

Her feelings about interracial sex had remained guarded from her husband although he had been more than a little obvious with her in showing his adulation of Trisha's accomplishment. That weighed on Nikki because it made her suspicious that Johnny wanted her to start screwing black guys at every opportunity. She felt that it must be Mike that pushed Trisha, and she resented him for it.

Mike and Trisha would be the guests of honor on Sex-Talk the following night, ostensibly to promote the sale of videos from the event. Nikki was worried that if Johnny asked the wrong question, such as, 'why', that show listeners might hear admissions from Mike and Trisha that would sour the show; something similar to starting a show that glamorized the executive-escort call-girl business with its big money and high-class prostitutes and ending up with crack-whores, selling their pussies for ten bucks on the street.

Having a different perspective on sex, Nikki was cool with that but Trisha's addiction, or her husband's pimping her out bothered her a lot and she hoped it wouldn't show while she prepped them on the following night's show. She braced herself for an uncomfortable evening and knocked on the hotel room door. A few seconds later, she was greeted by Mike.

"Hey Nikki, nice to see you again."

"Same here Mike, I hope you guys are enjoying Chicago."

"Come on in, yeah... we have. Especially the hot dogs and pizza."

"That's why people visit Chicago," laughed Nikki. "Vienna Beef Hot Dogs, which is what most places sell, are made right here. You should take the time to tour their factory while you're here."

As she headed towards a chair near the suite's dining room table, a vision of a large black man, with his cock in a sesame seed bun with the signature radiation green relish on top twisted her stomach. A sour taste arose from down deep and seeped into her mouth and for a moment, she worried she might actually puke onto the room's beige carpet.

"Hi Nikki!"

"Hi yourself Trisha!"

Nikki half expected Trisha to look like the crack-whore she imagined as she debated on canceling her interview. She was pleasantly surprised as she glanced at Trisha, halfway sitting and halfway was lying on the room's sofa. She was wearing a reddish pink terrycloth robe. She could not help but think, she could be some nice man's young-twenties daughter, freshly showered, flawless skin, and brilliant white teeth... practically a marquee-ad that portrayed an image of virgin femininity.

She glanced back at Mike as he trailed her into the suite and he also seemed to be someone else, and not the man who had allowed his wife to screw over three hundred black men. Nikki wondered, am I in the right room? Despite herself, she remarked, "You're looking a lot better than the last time I saw you."

"Thanks, I guess I kinda over did it."

Nikki's head leaned gently to the left and bobbed slightly, as if to agree with 'kinda', but then added, "It was a terrific show. You did great!"

Trisha's face seemed to soften and Nikki almost felt she sensed a degree of remorse. "Well, you look like you've recovered... who would know? I mean..."

"You mean; who would know that I'm the Queen of Spades, right?"

"Ah, well..."

"It's okay, I suppose I deserve it... I earned it."

"Are you sorry you did it?"

Trisha looked at Mike and then back at Nikki. "No, not sorry... maybe a bit regretful."

Nikki waited for Trisha to elaborate but it was Mike that spoke next. He said, "It's like anything that you overdo."

"Too much of a good thing, huh?"

"Kinda..."

"I take it you've slowed down some... I remember once, I used to really love anchovies on my pizza. It used to drive everyone nuts because I had to have those stinky, prickly fish on every slice. It just wasn't a pizza without them. Then, one evening... I remember it as if it was just yesterday; I was in Ohio and alone and I stopped at a pizza joint and ordered a medium... nothing but anchovies, and cheese of course. Anyway, that first bite was wonderful. By the time I started on my second slice, I was wishing I'd just added them as an extra ingredient."

"That's kinda it Nikki."

"I see."

"I haven't been with anyone but Mike since we left Las Vegas."

Nikki's face gave away her astonishment. "Really? Huh... actually, that's kind of cool, ya know?"

"It's not cool or hot, it's just what she... what we want right now."

Nikki wasn't sure what she should say next, considering she had played such a large role in the event. She felt strange, guilty in fact. "I hope that I... that we..."

"No," Trisha interrupted, "I don't know right now what tomorrow brings, but we're just kinda taking a break from things. If anything, that... workout, it gave us a minute to catch our breaths, to sit back and look at ourselves. To ask ourselves what we wanted."

"That's a big decision."

"No, an understanding..."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, not sure I know how to explain it but maybe it is about understanding each other's expectations. And, it didn't start with that gangbang show, but it did begin in Las Vegas nonetheless. Mike, well... he was having issues... with what I did, with what I was doing and I... well I misunderstood what he expected out of me."

"Which was?"

"Mike, maybe it would be better if we started from the beginning? What do you think?"

"It definitely puts things into perspective." He agreed.