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That my pussy would only be satisfy with his big black cock. I knew he was telling the truth. I said it before I am addicted to black cock. No matter how wrong I know this is. I know it will only be a matter a time before I am back in this motel getting my white pussy pounded by Calvin.
Calvin was now fucking me while I laid in the fetal position. I lost count of how many times this young man has made me cum. His hand squeeze my breast tightly and his fingers rub my hard nipples.
His dick goes in and out and deeper and deeper. Calvin told me it was magic watching his black dick disappear in my white pussy with each deep stroke. He fuck me harder and faster and his hands squeeze my breast tighter.
I knew he was close to cumming. I lean over to whisper in his ear. I told him I want him to "Flood my pussy with his cum." Calvin was happy to oblige he took one last deep stroke before cumming inside of my pussy. I could feel his dick jumping inside of my pussy. I also felt a warm sensation inside of me as well. I knew Calvin's load was a big one. Lucky I'm on the pill because I know in nine months my belly would be swelling up. Calvin and I kiss as we enjoy this moment.
Calvin tells me we have the hotel for two more hours. I know I should leave right now but I can't I want more of this feeling. I want to cum all over Calvin's black cock again. This is my dark secret I have been keeping. I know one day this secret could be the end of my marriage and cost me my family but as I said before right now I do not care. I guess I am a horrible person but I can live with it but one thing I can't live without is black cock.
The End.
A Bachelor Party to Remember
"Why did I get engaged in the first place?" I asked myself on the morning of my bachelor party. Was it peer pressure, parental meddling, lust?
I clearly remember thinking "Hell, I'm too young, I just graduated from Ohio State and now I'm marrying a southern bell of a classmate in The Big Easy." The wedding was two days away, my tuxedo had been rented, all the invited guests had made their travel plans, my fiance Sybil was fluttering about dealing with last minute details, and here I was, virtually morose.
Though I didn't feel much like it, my groomsmen and some fraternity brothers using the wedding as an excuse to get drunk in New Orleans, had insisted on a bachelor party. My best man had arranged a night at a unique New Orleans style event, in a mega party center where a number of activities would be going on at the same time, and we would be in a dance hall with a number of other fun seekers.
When we got to the mega party center, we found a wedding reception going on in one hall, a corporate event in another, and a truly wild gala with rotating bands and free flowing liquor in the "Shindig Hall" that we had reserved two tables in. There were events of all types going on simultaneously in the Shindig Hall including several graduation parties, a Tulane frat party, and a bachelorette party.
I really wish that I had been in the mood because I never had seen such a collection of people reveling so joyously. I pretended to have a good time, but my conflicted heart seriously wasn't in it.
I also was making sure not to drink. While many people can temporarily put their cares behind them by getting drunk, I know from experience it just makes me depressed. The first few times I switched tea for the scotch and sodas my groomsmen delivered to me it was a little tricky. After they were well on their way to getting drunk themselves it was easy.
After about an hour of revelry I went to the washroom and on the way back stopped in at the wedding reception. The bride and groom looked like they were thoroughly enjoying each other's company, constantly laughing, touching and hugging each other, and dancing up a storm. It made me wistful.
As I was leaving the wedding reception a woman about my age was leaving too and we bumped into each other at the door. I profusely apologized and when she looked up at me I saw that she was crying.
"Is something wrong?" I asked.
"No, I always cry at weddings."
"Yeah, but that's only a reception. Are you attending it?"
"No, I'm at a party in Shindig Hall."
"Me too. I'm headed back there. You can't go in with tears in your eyes you know."
"Uh, yeah. I guess you're right."
"Here, take this," I continued, handing her my handkerchief.
By then I was starting to notice what a beautiful woman I was interacting with. She had long brown hair with red highlights, big alluring green eyes, a perfect button nose, and a sleek tight figure with a bubble butt. She also had a mystical quality about her, something I don't ever remember seeing before.
As she wiped away her tears we chatted some more, just small talk. Finally she had composed herself, flashed a coy smile and said "I'm sorry, I seem to have soaked your hanky," as she handed it back to me. I squeezed her hand around it and said "Why don't you keep it just in case you see another wedding," smiling as broadly as I could. She laughed, said "Thanks," and we walked back into Shindig Hall.
I would have liked to continue our conversation, but as soon as we got back into the party place two women ran up to her and pulled her away virtually screaming "There you are, come on, we've arranged a treat."
I hadn't gone another three steps when I got virtually the same treatment from two of my groomsmen. As I was being led away by my now officially drunk buddies, I knew this wasn't good. I tried to run when the lead singer of the band on stage at the time said "We've got a special treat for y'all tonight. We're gonna have us a wedding rehearsal. Beau and Ida Mae are getting married -- though not to each other -- in a few days and we wanna make sure they got their moves down."
"Shit, this is going to be real bad!" I said to myself as my best man and all my groomsmen pushed me up near the stage where one of the frat boys was standing with some paper towels strung around his neck as a poor imitation of a preacher's stole, and holding some papers in his hands. Was I ever right!
It seemed like the whole crowd parted on cue, forming an aisle, and as the band played some gibberish four half-wasted bridesmaids from the bachelorette part came dancing up the aisle one at a time, several flashing their undies and one flashing her tits as the crowd hooted and hollered. Then the band started playing an awful rendition of "Here Comes The Bride" as a totally embarrassed looking woman, obviously Ida Mae, holding two ugly plastic flowers, was being walked up the aisle by another frat boy with a ridiculous gray wig.
After a few steps I realized who Ida Mae was -- the hanky girl! She did a double take when she saw I was the groom.
The "preacher" made some half-intelligible, mostly lewd, comments that were barely audible over the crowd's whooping and hollering, my best man handed me a piece of aluminum foil formed as a ring which I was essentially forced to put on Ida Mae's finger, and the "preacher" yelled "Now French Kiss The Bride" resulting in absolute pandemonium in the hall
