Black Bred

I’m married to a wonderful man. We live in a nice house
in a good neighborhood. My husband travels on business
often and plans on making a long trip this week.

His long trips sometimes leaves me sexually frustrated
so I have to resort to playing with my toys. My mind
starts drifting as I play with my vibrator. My head
leaned all the way back as I rub my clit.

I can see a picture in my head of our new neighbor. He’s
black and very muscular. I get the idea from him that he
could be very dominant.

I fantasize about a situation where I am with him and
I’ve been in a relationship with him for a while. We’ve
been seeing each other often. Whenever my husband is on
one of his long trips. I get a phone call from him just
hours before my husband leaves on his trip.

He tells me it’s long overdue that I should be black
bred. I try to explain that my husband would k**l me if
he found out I was pregnant with a black baby. He won’t
listen to my pleads and explains how he wants me to
prepare for the evening.

He tells me this before hanging up and I spend the whole
day at my job in a terrible state, just anticipating.

On a break, perhaps my cell phone rings, and it is him,
telling me just a hint about what is in store and a
‘suggestion’ about where I should be when he arrives at
my house that evening.

I fix dinner for us, and he arrives at my front door a
bit late. The table is set, and he takes the bottle of
wine out and a pair of glasses out to pour us a drink.

I go upstairs to take off my clothing- cooking naked is
not a good idea when you are excited and likely to spill
something. We sit outside on the deck as the sun goes
down, and he tells me the rest of his plans.

I love the way wind feels on my body when I’m naked,
it’s one of the nicest things about living in the
country. I love sunbathing in the nude. I suspect my
neighbor has seen me many times out in my back yard.

It starts to cool off, as it does in the desert in the
evening, and I move to sitting with him on a love seat
on our back porch. I move to sit on his lap. I’m already
wet I have been all day, more or less. I would wonder
how he knew THIS was the day I ovulate, as even I don’t
usually keep track of my periods that closely. I am not
very organized though, and he is.

He tells me how sexy he thinks I am, runs his hands up
and down my sides and caresses my breasts before
tweaking my nipple. “I want to see these get even

I shiver. This isn’t usually a fantasy of mine- I am a
double D, which is quite enough when you are running
after an out of control puppy that your student has let,
for some unknown reason, off leash. Tonight though, is
not about practical. It’s about need. I have to ask
myself, “Why does my husband have to take these long

My pussy feels like a vacuum, pulling the rest of my
body in towards it, desperate to be filled with

I can’t resist any longer, I reach down to touch myself,
but he grabs my hand. “Tonight, you are receptive, and
you will receive nothing I don’t give you.”

I make a noise that is somewhere between a groan of
frustration and a laugh. We are a partnership, with give
and take, but he has his moments of this, and it is, as
I know, natural.

I am an independent, strong-minded individual, and I
don’t really think of myself as submissive, but when he
really wants something? He usually gets it, and it turns
me on. A lot of people throw around the words ‘dominant,
submissive, alpha’- it’s sort of a trade hazard for me,
as I am a dog trainer. And it usually makes me laugh,
because when people in ahem, the adult world, start
tossing the terms around?

Well… some of the interpretations are pretty weird.
The dominant wolf- or dog- in a pack doesn’t go around
picking fights, and he doesn’t get his jollies bossing
someone. Dominance simply means that when he DOES feel
the need for things to go a certain way, they do.
Tonight, the dominant one wants to breed me- and I will
be bred.

He leans towards me then, and takes my nipple in his
mouth, bites gently and then smiles at me. “Let’s go

I know, if I wanted to, I could say no, and he would
respect it. But I don’t WANT to say no. The practical
considerations are not my responsibility any more- he
has taken all that and reduced me to my most basic,
primal self. I am sitting across his lap, straddling
him, and I use the excuse of standing up to grind
against him- just once.

“Ah-” he cautions, the same sound we use with our dogs,
who are out in the kennel tonight, as if I am an animal
incapable of language. I nearly am. Sensation is far
more important than thought at this point, but his
disapproval is clear and I subside.

He stands up, and we walk into the house and up the
stairs to our master bedroom together. The bedroom my
husband and I share. The lights are not turned on, but
the room is not completely dark. Silvery light comes
from the windows on the outer wall and illuminates the
bed, covers neatly folded at the foot, one of my duties
this afternoon.

“Go lay down,” he says. “On your stomach.” I KNOW he is
going to draw this out, and I am ready NOW- but I obey,
propping my head on my crossed arms and looking back at
him, waiting.

He unbuttons his shirt, folds it. “Now you are just
being mean.” I say. His normal routine is dropping
things on the floor, where I inevitably trip over them.

He smiles. “So?” He unbuttons his pants, removes his
boxers, his shoes were already gone at the bottom of the
stairs. I spread my legs, wriggle, I hope,
provocatively, and he drops his pants and climbs onto
the bed himself, lightly slapping me on the ass. “Stay
still.” I laugh.

He begins to rub my back, lightly, starting with my
shoulders, the back of my neck (which he bends to kiss
and then nip, which is completely, unfairly erotic for
no reason I can explain). Working down my spine, across
my buttocks.

It seems like hours but is probably only a minute or
two, before he tells me to turn over and lays down next
to me on his side, so we are facing each other.

“I can’t wait,” he says. “To see your belly grow and
know that it is my c***d.” He reaches out and places a
hand on my abdomen, approximately where said bump will
be, hopefully. “I want to fuck you from behind when you
are full and round and heavy with a black c***d.”

“I want to drink from your nipples and watch you squirm,
knowing that it was me who made you this way, and will

He sits up, I start to follow, but he motions me back
down, moving to sit between my spread legs, leaning over
me. He runs his hands down my body again, circling my
nipples- which are so hard at this point they are
painful, avoiding my ribs, which is good, as I am
ridiculously ticklish, especially when aroused. He fits
his hands around my waist, thumbs rubbing over my hip
bones, continuing down, to rest on my thighs.

He is kneeling, and he slips his hands under me to lift
me so that my lower body is resting on his knees, giving
him full access to my crotch with his hands. This is a
position he’s used in the past for teasing me, and a
game we’ve played before- just how long does it take
before I begin to beg for him to hurry up and fuck me?

He runs a finger gently down the lips of my pussy, which
are thick, fleshy, and used to bother me as ‘abnormal’
from the tight, tiny-lipped things of girls in porn
videos and pictures. With my legs spread as they are
though, they are pulled tightly open, just enough flesh
for him to pinch and pull at in a way that is almost,
but not quite so intense as to be painful.

He traces inside the lips, around my pussy itself, then
touches the little spot just above my clit that drives
me mad even when I am too sensitive for my clit to be
stimulated directly. I gasp and strain to open my legs

My pussy strains, longing for something, anything to
fill it, to be drawn up inside of me and to fill the
empty places inside me exactly as nature intended them
to be filled.

He presses a finger, two fingers inside of me and I
can’t help my pussy tightening on them, but they are
deliberately withdrawn, kept out, pulled back, leaving
me emptier than ever.

I moan, something about “I want you inside me,” but
probably less sensible, as my brains have migrated to my
crotch; every nerve in my body is there, on fire, and he
does it again, harder, pressing this time with the heel
of his hand against my pubic bone and I buck, desperate

He is as hard as a rock, I can feel his black cock
frustratingly near and yet not inside of me. “Please.”

“Tell me what you want,” he says, stilling the motion of
his hand, although the pressure remains. My pulse
throbs, I squirm.

“I want you to fuck me,” I say. “Please, for god’s sake,
just fuck me.”

He smiles, motionless, and I know he wants to hear it
all. “Please, fuck me and cum in me and make me
pregnant. I want to have your baby. I want you to fuck
me when I’m pregnant and big and tight and I want you to
do it again and again-” And he does.

His cock slides into me easily, fitting into me as if I
was made to fit it like a custom made glove- he’s large
but it feels just right. He leans over me, rearranging
us on the bed, him still in me, until I can bear it no
more and move my hips. He is filling me, but I am still
empty, and I NEED more.

He pulls back, then pushes back into me. I push my hips
up at him as he moves, we move, and together we begin
the long fall into ecstasy, speeding up together as we
both near our climaxes.

I come quickly, having been on edge so long, but just as
the final waves are washing over me, he hits bottom, the
head of his prick bumping up against my cervix, and I
come again, thinking about the nearness of his black
cock to my fertile womb.

“Cum in me,” I manage to gasp, breathless. “I want your
cum in my belly making me big and tight and pregnant.”

I have heard, but never believed, that women can feel it
when a man ejaculates. Scientists insist it isn’t
possible, but I can tell you that it is.

He explodes in me with a gasp and a sudden bursting of
warmth that sets off a third explosion in me, and I wrap
my legs tighter around him, not sure when they got
there, but I pull him to me, deeper and deeper, and we
both finish together. He remains on top of me, inside
me, as he softens, and I murmur a denial as he finally
withdraws, wanting to keep the full feeling.

And I am black bred.

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