Nick Baker held all the cards in this lawsuit. In his
early thirties, he was a rising star in the judicial
system of the Big Apple. Across the table from him,
Graham Gray sat with a worried look on his face. He
was an old acquaintance and the attorney for the
opposing side in the case. They had to travel to the
state capitol for today’s deposition, and probably
would not be able to return home until Sunday morning,
but everything was working out just great.
The settlement in this case would involve millions of
dollars. Nick’s fees and prestige from winning this
case would boost his financial situation and career
opportunities. He couldn’t help but smile very smugly
at Graham as the other attorney desperately pleaded
his weak case. Yes, for Nick Baker, life looked pretty
good.
*
Alison Baker stepped out of the shower and patted her
tall shapely twenty-five year old body dry with the
large soft bath towel. She momentarily gazed at her
reflection in the large bathroom mirrors as she
finished drying the droplets of water from her
beautiful body. Her shoulder length brown hair was
pinned up on top of her head to keep it from getting
wet during her quick shower.
Her eyes were colored like a doe’s; large brown pools
that shown brightly when she became excited. Her full
lips held out the promise of soft kisses and long
nights of passion. Her face was one of beauty. Her
skin was smooth, soft and white as alabaster. Her
large breasts were a source of both pride and
embarrassment.
When she was a teenager, her breasts were the largest
in her class at school. She found it embarrassing
that, when boys would carry on a conversation with
her, that they almost never looked her in the eye.
They had been to busy staring at her enormous boobs.
The fact that she was taller most of the boys and that
her boobs ended up being right in their faces had only
added to her embarrassment. No wonder Alison was still
shy around men.
Alison removed the pins from her hair and shook her
head a couple of times before picking up a brush and
stroking it through her golden mane to remove any
tangles. She was standing in front of the bathroom
mirror in the nude. Since she was about six-foot tall
in her bare feet, her brown pubic bush was visible in
the mirror.
Alison had always been self-conscious of her body, so
she laid the brush down and went into the bedroom to
get dressed as soon as she was sure that her hair was
laying properly. If a stranger had been able to see
into the Baker apartment, they would have appreciated
the brunette’s beautiful long legs and shapely bottom.
Her body was a sex machine that she had never allowed
to be used to its full potential. She did not know it,
but that was a situation that was about to change.
Alison opened a dresser drawer and selected her
lingerie. Plain white silk panties, matching brassiere
and a pair of black pantyhose. She slipped the silk
garments on with practiced ease. A tastefully stylish
black dress and matching low heel shoes completed her
ensemble.
Being slightly taller than her husband, she rarely
wore high heel shoes. She applied a little eye makeup,
put on a light coating of lip-gloss, hooked a gold
chain with her St. Christopher pendant around her neck
and threaded a pair of gold earrings through her
earlobes to match her wedding rings. Alison picked up
her purse, turned out the light in the bedroom and
went down the stairs to the living room.
She made a last minute visual check of everything in
the living room just to make sure that everything was
in its proper place, before she turned out that light,
went out the front door and locked it. Alison pulled
her blue convertible out onto the parkway to drive to
the airport. Since her husband was out of town, she
had invited Clare Collins to visit her from Los
Angeles.
Clare and Nick did not get along very well, so this
was a great opportunity for the two friends to get
together since Nick would not be there. The problem
was that Clare’s flight did not arrive until after
midnight. At least it was Friday night and Clare would
not have to return to California until the next
weekend. This weekend would be like old times for the
two friends.
When Alison arrived at the airport, she found out that
the flight had been delayed and she had to kill almost
an hour and a half. Though Alison rarely drank, there
was a seedy looking man that was following her around
and giving her the eye, she went into the first open
doorway, which was airport lounge. The bartender asked
her, “What is your pleasure?”
She started to tell him that she didn’t want anything
to drink, but decided that she would try a margarita.
She sipped on the delicious drink as she thought about
the friendship that she and Clare had shared, until
twenty minutes later when her glass was empty.
Alison was thinking of leaving the lounge. The
television monitor with the schedules of arrivals and
departures showed that she still had almost an hour to
kill. That, plus the fact that the weird little man
that had been following her, was still standing around
outside the bar, caused her to stay and order another
margarita when the bartender asked if she wanted a
refill.
Alison realized that she should not have had the
second margarita as she walked toward the gate where
Clare was to disembark from her plane. Alison was just
a little tipsy. Clare was one of the last to come out
the gate. She was dressed in a red mini dress that
emphasized her slim and attractive figure. She wore
dark stockings and high heel shoes, as well.
The tall thin blonde was still just as beautiful as
when she was a teenager. Clare had sampled several of
the airline’s daiquiris on the flight. She was feeling
the effect of her mixed drinks even more than Alison
did. They hugged and kissed each other on the cheek.
Twenty minutes later, they had Clare’s baggage and
were leaving the airport. Perhaps, if Alison had been
paying better attention to the roadway, instead of
trying to listen so intently to Clare’s stories, she
would have seen the piece of jagged metal lying in the
road before it was too late.
Alison’s car lurched and the engine stopped almost
immediately. The metal in the road had ripped open the
oil pain on the blue convertible. Alison barely
managed to get the car onto the side of the road
before it came rolling to a halt. She switched off the
ignition as she and Clare looked at each other.
Of all the places for the car to break down, it had to
be when the expressway passed through the worst part
of town. Alison timidly got out of the car to take a
quick look at the oil spill that marked the path that
the car had traveled since it had hit the jagged metal
bar. She got back in the car and locked the doors.
Alison looked at Clare, smiled and said, “Don’t worry,
Nick gave me a cellular phone for just such
emergencies.” She pulled her phone from her purse and
tried to turn it on. Her smile disappeared. “Of all
the times to have a dead battery!” She cried as she
shoved the phone back into her purse. Clare had left
her phone back in Los Angeles. Now, she wished that
she had brought it with her.
A bus pulled over just a hundred feet or so ahead of
them. A man in a gray uniform shirt and pants came
back to their car. He was white, in his forties, had
black hair and a friendly smile. Alison rolled down
her window a couple of inches as he came around to the
driver’s side of her car. “Good evening, Ladies. I saw
the oil in the road and noticed that you were out here
alone. It’s after two o’clock in the morning and you
are not safe in this area. May I offer the two of you
a lift?”
Alison was reluctant to leave the safety of her car
until he told her, “You realize that a convertible has
a tent for a roof. It anyone wants inside, all they
have to do is cut a hole in the top with a knife.”
Alison and Clare looked at each other for a few
seconds before they both decided to take the nice
man’s offer.
Alison got her purse and locked the doors of her car.
They would call a tow truck as soon as they reached a
telephone. The man, who introduced himself as Smithy,
carried Clare’s bags as they walked toward the bus.
Just as they were about to board the bus, Alison
noticed that it had the name of a professional
basketball team painted on the side. She didn’t think
much about what the name indicated until she had
boarded the bus and saw who the other occupants were.
The bus was full of very famous basketball athletes.
And, they were all black.
Alison felt very uncomfortable. She would have turned
around and left the bus if it weren’t for the fact
that she was worried that two women, alone on the
expressway, at this time of night, may as well have a
target painted on them. “Besides,” she assured
herself, “she and Clare could depend on Smithy for
protection.” Two of the players moved over to leave
one seat next to each empty.
Clare sat down next to one of the tall basketball
players and smiled prettily at him. Alison meekly sat
next to the other player. Smithy sat down in the
driver’s seat, closed the bus’s door, turned off the
interior lights, put the bus in gear and pulled back
out onto the nearly deserted expressway.
Alison could see that Clare had already started a
conversation with her seatmate. Alison glanced
sideways at the very tall black man that had shared
his seat with her. In the darkened interior of the
bus, details were hard to make out, but she could tell
that he was rather handsome. Alison had always been
taller than the average person. She was even taller
than her own husband was. Sitting beside the famous
basketball player made her feel small. She was already
at a disadvantage because of having the two drinks
earlier and her auto breaking down. Now, she felt a
little physical intimidation because of the tall black
man’s sheer size.
Alison almost jumped when the man beside her placed
his large black hand on her thigh. She looked directly
at him for the first time. “How dare he!” She thought
to herself as she reached down and pushed his very
large hand from her leg. She looked around to see if
there was another seat that she could move to.
Unfortunately, all the other seats appeared to be used
by the sleeping players as they stretched out on them.
Alison did not want to ask to be let off the bus. The
area that the bus was traveling through still was not
safe for two women to be stranded in at this time of
night.
Alison looked over at Clare. Perhaps she could come up
with a solution to their problem? What she saw shocked
her. It was hard to make out the details, but it
appeared that Clare and the much taller black
basketball player beside her were engaged in an
intimate whispered conversation.
Alison could not hear them, but could tell that Clare
was enjoying herself from the soft sounds of laughter
that her blonde friend made as the black man whispered
in her ear. The black hand moved on Clare’s thigh
cataching Alison’s eye. Alison’s heart almost stopped
beating for a moment when she saw the man beside Clare
lean down to kiss her blonde friend with his large
soft lips.
Alison had not been raised to be racially prejudiced,
but seeing her best friend willingly returning the
kiss of a tall black man that was a virtual stranger
to her, caused her heart to beat a little faster. The
streetlights along the expressway illuminated the
movements of the stranger’s large black hand as it
moved up and down the thin blonde’s thigh. Alison
could not believe her eyes as she saw Clare parting
her thighs to let the roving hand have access to her
feminine treasures. Hearing Clare moaning was a good
indication of where the hand had went after it had
disappeared under her skirt.
Alison pressed her thighs together in an effort to
suppress the tingling sensations that were emanating
from her stiffening clitoris. She had always been
embarrassed when her body reacted to sexual
situations. Alison had always tried to maintain
control and was not comfortable with her body’s
reactions to sensual stimuli.
When she felt the return of the large hand on her own
thigh, Alison wanted to remove it again, but sat
motionless. It felt as if she didn’t have the strength
to lift her arms or legs as her hormonal levels
reacted to the image of Clare eagerly kissing the tall
black man across the aisle and the hand that was now
massaging her own nylon covered thigh. She could not
even make herself turn away from the scene that was
taking place only a few feet from where she sat.
Clare had spread her legs even more for the long thin
questing fingers. Clare was not wearing pantyhose. She
had told Alison that most men did not find pantyhose
to be sexy. Clare was wearing black stockings and a
garter belt. Her light skin made quite a contrast to
the black nylon of her hose and the large black hand
that had moved between her legs and was massaging her
vagina through her red panties.
Alison fascinated, watched as the basketball player’s
other hand slowly unzipped the back of the pretty
blonde’s red dress. The back strap of a red brassiere
could be seen as the dress parted. Clare didn’t seem
to mind the fact that a large black man was undressing
her on a crowded bus as the dress slipped forward on
her shoulders. Clare had broken away from the kiss.
Alison hoped that she would call a halt to what the
ball player was doing to her so that they could stop
the bus and get off, but, instead, Clare laid her head
against the headrest and closed her eyes. Her seatmate
wasted little in unhooking Clare’s red brassiere.
Alison had not seen Clare’s breasts since high school
gym class. Although relatively small, at least
compared to Alison’s D cup breasts, they stood almost
straight out and had long thick nipples. Clare made a
gasping sound as the man’s thick lips encircled a
nipple and began sucking on it.
Although Alison had been motionless as she had watched
her friend being seduced by the tall black basketball
player, her seat companion had been busy. Alison had
held her legs together very tightly as he had moved
his catcher’s mitt sized hand up and down her
quivering thigh. Alison tried to ignore the hand and
the sensations that were rippling through her
beautiful body in the hopes that they would all go
away.
The hand moved up and down her leg, moving farther
north each time, until it was almost completely under
the hem of her designer black dress. Alison’s clitoris
was now tingling far too much to ignore. She shifted
in her seat, in a half-hearted effort to move away
from the exploring black hand, only to find that she
had actually opened herself up to him even more.
Across the aisle, Alison could see that the man had
shifted his big lips to Clare’s other breast. The
nipples, that had just been in his mouth, shone wetly
in the dim light and was swollen to over twice its
original size. One of the black man’s hands was almost
buried under the red dress that was draped across the
writhing blonde’s lap. Her red brassiere lay in the
aisle on the floor, forgotten.
Alison’s attention was brought back to her own body as
she felt the hand under her dress reach the top of her
leg. A finger was rubbing the crotch of her pantyhose
as the hand rested on her upper thigh. Alison tried to
clamp her thighs together to prevent such intimate
contact, but only succeeded in trapping the finger
against her sensitive mound. He immediately began to
wiggle his finger against the moistening crotch of her
panties and pantyhose.
She experienced what felt to be a maddening itch that
she knew could only be scratched by a man. And, the
only man currently available was not her husband.
Instead, it was a seven-foot tall black man with skin
so dark; she could barely make out his facial features
on the dimly lit bus.
Clare’s cry of delight caused Alison to turn her head
toward the couple across the way. The tall black
basketball player next to Clare had stood up and his
elastic waistband jogging pants was down around his
ankles. Standing out in front of him was what appeared
to be the radiator hose from her car. It was at least
ten inches long and more than two inches thick.
Clare’s eyes were shining in the dark as she took hold
of the awesome black pole with both hands and stroked
up and down a few times. “It’s magnificent!” She
whispered just before she leaned forward and took the
head into her wide-open mouth.
The man next to Alison had managed to turn his hand to
cover her mound and was now vigorously massaging her
sensitive clitoris. Alison pushed back into the
seatback as waves of miniature orgasms passed through
her body. She was unable to protest as a dark face
descended onto hers and thick lips muffled her moans.
She tried to push the molesting hand from between her
legs, but were ineffectual. The longest tongue Alison
had ever encountered snaked into her mouth and probed
every recess of her oral cavity. She hardly even
noticed as his other hand massaged her D cup breasts.
Soon, the sensations were so over powering, Alison
reluctantly surrendered to them.
At first, Alison had simply sat there, with her arms
at her sides, as the back of her dress was unzipped
and pulled down in front. When her white silk
brassiere was unhooked and removed, letting her large
sensitive breasts bobble in the cool air. A pair of
thick suctioning lips was attached to her sensitive
nipples; she began a series of climaxes. She was
barely aware of when he had pulled the hem of her
dress up and slipped his hand down the front of her
pantyhose and panties. She was very aware of when his
fingers began direct manipulation of her clitoris and
began sinking so very deep into her moist slit.
If poor Alison had not had those two margaritas to
drink, she might not have ended up in this situation.
Just having watched the road more closely, would have
prevented this from happening. She lay back against
the seat with her eyes looking down at the face of the
very tall black man that was sucking her nipples and
driving her into a state of uncontrollable sexual
heat.
A cry from across the aisle caused Alison to look.
Clare, now dressed in only her garter belt and nylon
stockings, was straddling the basketball player’s huge
cock as he sat in his seat. Almost half of the black
pole had disappeared inside of her friend’s belly.
Alison could not believe such a huge tool could
possibly fit inside of Clare’s little vagina. Large
black hands gripped the pretty blonde’s narrow waist
and pulled her all the way down on the huge ebony
shaft. Clare wiggled about like a bug stuck on a pin
as she came.
The athlete working on Alison pulled her pantyhose and
panties down and off in one smooth motion. She was
left sitting with her smooth bottom on the rough
fabric of the bus seat and her expensive designer
black dress wrapped around her waist. She wanted to
resist as her legs were pushed open, but the seven-
foot basketball player was too strong for her to stop
now. He knelt on the floor in front of her and buried
his head between her legs.
She noticed that his long thick tongue was the size of
an ex-boyfriend’s cock as it penetrated her wet slit.
Try as she might to end the sequence of events, Alison
was powerless to stop them. When the thick lips
wrapped around her clitoris, she lost any interest in
halting the sexual sensations she was now feeling as
wave after wave of climaxes passed through her.
Alison was brought to several major orgasms before the
seven-foot giant rose up, slipped down his jogging
pants and unleashed his gigantic black cock. At first,
Alison thought that he held a section of fire hose in
his hands. Then, she realized that the massive piece
of dark meat was for real. Never in her relatively
short life had she even imagined that a penis could
become so huge. It was even bigger than the one that
must, even now, be tearing up the insides of her best
friend.
Alison sat, as if hypnotized, as the basketball player
that still wore her juices smeared across his face,
gripped the underside of her knees, raised them into
the air, and guided the uncircumcised end of his huge
black dong to the entrance to her femininity.
She wanted to stop him. She wanted to get up and run.
She wanted him to stop because she wasn’t on the pill.
Alison had developed a reaction to the side effects of
birth control pills and had stopped taking them. She
had, from that time onward, insisted that Nick always
wear a rubber. Now, as she felt the baseball bat sized
cock head nuzzling around in her dripping vagina, she
couldn’t find her voice to tell the black man not to
have sex with her without using a rubber.
Alison felt a pain in her stretching vagina as the
seven-foot black began to lean into her, causing her
vagina to expand as the huge round cock head was
forced into her under sized vagina. Alison was only
able to moan as she felt it slip inside and stretch
her opening more than it had ever been stretched
before. He realized that she was nearly a virgin.
Actually, she was a virgin in the upper recesses of
her vagina. He was about to plum those virgin depths
with his foot long cock.
By this time, Clare had cum several times and her
black stud had filled her stretched out pussy with
sperm. She was on the pill, so, had nothing to worry
about, as far as becoming pregnant. She once again was
sucking on the black cock as she watched Alison out of
the corner of her eye. She was amazed at the way her
brunette friend was reacting to the advances of the
tall black man.
Alison had always been so aloof. She didn’t think
Alison had ever lost control before. And now, the
biggest and blackest cock that Clare had ever seen was
screwing her married friend. And, Clare had seen many
black cocks. Since she had lived in California, she
had several black boyfriends. She loved the contrast
of their black skin next to her white, naturally
blonde skin. She especially loved it when they were as
well-endowed as these two were.
Alison’s universe was centered on her vagina and the
telephone pole sized cock that was beginning to stroke
in and out of it. She would have had the will power to
force her husband to don a prophylactic before he
could enter her. But, with this tall aggressive black
man, she lay back meekly as his hard black penis was
shoved up into her belly without a rubber.
Alison lay back on the bus seat as the massive black
tool forced its way passed the point in her vagina
that had been reached by her husband and the couple of
white boys she had sex with before she had gotten
married. She looked up into the black man’s face as he
sank his cock into the tight white pussy that was
stretched around his black cock.
The black dick would penetrate an extra inch, only to
recede an inch or two. Alison could feel her internal
organs being pushed out of the way as her belly was
filled full of more meat than she had ever thought
possible. She was whimpering as the last inch was
driven deep into her tummy. She came as soon as she
felt the extra course black pubic hair touch her
swollen clit.
He just knelt there, on his knees, as the sexy white
woman shook and wiggled on his buried cock, with a big
smile on his face. What made it even more exciting for
him was the gleam on the wedding ring set on the ring
finger of the beautiful brunette’s left hand. He was
getting some white man’s wife’s pussy and he was
reaching places in her cunt that he just knew that her
husband never would.
His balls began to thump up and down as he thought
that he might be making her pregnant with his baby.
His cum spewed out of his swollen cock in spurt after
spurt until he had more than filled the pretty
housewife’s belly w is potent sperm.
Clare had seen that Alison was practically having
convulsions as she orgasmed around the cumming black
cock buried in her over stretched vagina. Clare had
never liked Nick and found the thought of Alison
letting other men fuck her to be sexually stimulating.
The big black cock in her mouth had reached full
height again.
Clare climbed up and sat on it once more, letting
herself slide down the wet shiny black shaft until her
belly was once again full. She remembered that Alison
couldn’t take birth control pills, which meant that,
in nine months, Alison might present Nick with a
surprise. Clare found the thoughts to be so exciting
that she began to have a long series of orgasms as she
bounced up and down.
The bus had let Alison and Clare off at a taxi stand.
They had re-arranged their clothing and went to the
bus restroom to freshen up a little.
Each of them had swollen vaginas that still dribbled
cum into the crotch of their panties as they stepped
down from the bus’s steps. Smithy had grinned as he
said, “You ladies be sure and cum again sometime.” He
laughed as he closed the door of the bus and drove
away. The taxi driver had loaded Clare’s bags into the
trunk as Alison gently sat down on the back seat of
the cab.
Clare was accustomed to large black cocks and was not
as sore as her married, but innocent friend. She
grinned as she thought of making Nick a cuckold. While
she was here this week, she decided to make it her
goal to see how many different cocks she could arrange
to screw Alison. After all, Clare loved screwing as
much as any man, and did not see any reason for Alison
to go through life feeling differently.
Just before they reached Nick and Alison’s apartment,
Alison began to cry. Clare fished a napkin from her
purse and passed it to her friend. Clare felt sorry
for her friend, but knew that Alison would get over
such feelings by the third or fourth affair that she
had.
Graham had received a phone call and had left the
proceedings to return to New York City. He had managed
to orchestrate a maneuver that would keep Nick Baker
in the state capitol for almost a week. Graham did not
have a strong legal case, but he was crafty and
conniving. If he could not win a case by ordinary
means, he was not dumb enough to let a little thing
such as Ethics get in the way. He had assigned his
detectives to follow the major players on the opposite
side of this case in hopes that he could find
something to blackmail them with. Tonight, he may have
hit pay dirt.
Graham had Jones, a weasel looking little man
following Alison Baker for the last three days. He
really had not expected anything to come of the
investigation since he and Alison had dated a few
times before she had married the smug, Mr. Thinks He
Knows It All, Nick Baker, and knew she was to shy to
give him an ammunition.
Jones had excitedly told him the story of Alison’s car
breaking down on the expressway, how a bus full of
black basketball team members picked her and some
blonde bimbo up. What was surprising was that, a
little over an hour later, the two women were let out
at a taxi stand with their dresses wrinkled and their
hair in tangles! Jones swore that they had been
fucked!
Jones had taken both still pictures and videotape of
the two women. Unfortunately, the pictures would not
be incriminating enough to use for blackmail. Graham
was driving well above the speed limit as he hurried
toward New York City and Alison’s apartment. If there
were any truth to Jones’s allegations, he had a better
chance of finding evidence if he arrived before the
sluts had time to wash the cum from their panties.
Clare knew what would make Alison feel better. She
poured two glasses of Chardonnay, a white wine, went
to the master bath, turned on the tab to send hot
water cascading into the tub, poured some bubble bath
and oils into the swirling water and went into the
bedroom to help the crying woman out of her sperm
soaked clothing.
The insides of Clare’s thighs were slick with the
semen that had leaked from her saturated panties to
the tops of her thigh high stockings. She loved the
feeling of being a sperm soaked slut. She wanted her
friend to loosen up and also enjoy the pleasures that
life had to offer. Being in Los Angeles had helped
her. Clare had always been wild, but Alison did not
even suspect some of the things that she had done
since moving to California.
On the weekends, Clare was making X-rated porno tapes.
She was still just locally known, but was planning on
becoming nationally known soon. She had specialized in
interracial porn. The bigger and blacker the cocks in
her mov the more videotapes the buyers wanted.
Alison meekly followed her fair-haired friend to the
bathroom and let her peel the clothing from her sore
body. The warm water felt soothing to her abused body
as she slowly settled into the bath. Clare handed her
one of the glasses of wine, picked up the other and
made a toast, “Here’s to the female orgasm!” Alison
automatically sipped the cool liquid as Clare drank
her wine.
Alison’s mind was in turmoil. She felt incredibly
guilty because she had, for the first time, cheated on
her husband. As far as she knew, Nick had never
strayed. Alison felt like a cheap slut as a tear
rolled down her pretty face.
The warm bath and the glasses of wine helped Alison
forget, just a little, what had happened tonight. She
was high and did not protest when Clare peeled her own
clothing off and joined Alison in the large tub.
Alison was so drunk that she openly stared at Clare’s
thin blonde body as she settled down in the tub with
her.
Alison knew it was wrong for her nipples to harden as
her friend’s body wetly slid against her own. Alison
was on her fourth glass of wine and was too far-gone
to protest as a pair of arms encircled her nude body
and drew her body against Clare’s. “Poor Alison. You
have had such a trying night. I’ll help you forget
what has happened. We don’t need those nasty men to
make us feel good. Let me show you.” With those words,
Clare brought her lips gently to Alison’s soft warm
mouth. After all that had happened – and the wine –
Alison was too slow to react and protest. Besides, the
kiss was soft and gentle, as only another woman would
be able to kiss.
“Clare was her best friend and would never do anything
to harm her,” she thought as she lay passively in the
horny blonde’s arms. They shared slow wet passionate
kisses for the next fifteen minutes.
Alison was actually disappointed when Clare had
stopped kissing her and had risen from the cooling
bath water. She watched as Clare sensuously dried her
own body, then helped her out and dried hers. Alison
was passive as she was led to her and her husband’s
marriage bed. The patchwork quilt, that Alison had
been so proud of, was pulled from the king size bed
and dropped on the floor.
Clare had her inebriated and confused friend lie on
the bed. For years, Clare had wanted the tall well-
endowed brunette in this position. Occasionally, Clare
would masturbate as she thought of what she would love
to do to her innocent minded friend. Now, she had
Alison right where she wanted her.
Alison lay her head on the pillow with her hair spread
out around her head like an angel’s wings. Her nipples
and inner labia were red and swollen from the
treatment that the tall black basketball player had
given them earlier in the night. In her mind, there
were warnings about what she knew that Clare was going
to do to her. Her mental turmoil over having cheated
on her husband for the first time, and the effects of
the Chardonnay wine, blocked her ability to resist the
emotions that made her want to have Clare hug and kiss
her some more. Clare wasted little time in doing so.
Clare lay on top of Alison. Her thigh moved between
Alison’s, causing her thigh to rub against the
brunette’s swollen and hypersensitive vagina. The
blonde rubbed her swollen mound against her friend’s
thigh even as her lips met Alison’s. The kiss lasted
for several minutes before Clare inserted her tongue
into Alison’s partly open mouth. After the events on
the bus, and the sexually charged state of each of
their bodies, Alison found little trouble being able
to climax as the two women embraced and massaged each
other’s vaginas with their thighs.
Clare moved down and sucked Alison’s redden nipples.
She delighted in the expressions on her friend’s face
as she slipped her hand down Alison’s smooth tummy to
play with the moistening hair fringed slit. Alison was
not able to exercise any control over her sexually
excited body. Tonight, for virtually the first time in
her life, she had completely lost control over her
libido. When Clare’s middle finger began to tease her
erect clitoris, she built up to a powerful climax.
By the time Alison had become aware of what was
happening, Clare had slid down and had parted her
friend’s vagina lips and was wrapping her lips around
the swollen clit. Alison bucked and wiggled about on
the bed as she was forced to endure one massive orgasm
after the other. Twenty-seven minutes, and a countless
number or orgasms later, Alison’s sweat soaked body
lost consciousness.
*
Alison awoke slowly. She had a slight hangover. She
opened her eyes to see Clare lying in bed next to her.
A sheet covered them, but underneath the sheet, she
knew that they were nude.
Then, memories of the previous night came flooding
back through her mind. She sat up quickly as the shock
of what she had done sank into her mind. The sudden
movement did not help her hangover-fogged brain.
Alison looked down at where the sheet had fallen away
from her large breasts. Her nipples were swollen and
red in color. They were also extra sensitive.
Alison looked over at Clare and saw that her eyes were
open. Alison asked, “Did everything that I remember
actually happen last night?” Clare asked her what she
remembered. Alison named off the items on her mental
list. Clare nodded her pretty head for each item.
Alison blushed as she mentioned the things that she
and Clare had done in bed. Clare only smiled at her
friend.
Alison had to pee. She got out of bed and almost ran
to the bathroom. She sat down on the commode and let
her water drain from her body. After she had finished,
she automatically reached for some toilet tissue to
dry herself. As she patted herself, she made a
startling discovery; her pubic hair was gone.
She cried out, “No!” She jumped up and ran to the
mirrors. She could see the reflection of her almost
flat belly in the mirror. The gentle curve under her
tummy was completely bald. It was not trimmed. It was
bald! Her puffy vagina lips and the swollen inner
labia, which were hanging out since last night, could
be seen in the mirror.
Alison grabbed the edge of the bathroom sink to steady
herself, as the room seemed to go around in a circle
for a moment. “Doesn’t it look beautiful?” Clare, also
naked, spoke from the doorway.
“What have you done to me? How will I explain this to
Nick when he gets home?” Alison asked as she looked at
her reflection.
“Just tell him that you did it to wear bathing suits.
Hell, men hardly ever notice anything anyway. Nick is
no different. In fact, most men get turned on by bald
beavers.” Clare moved up behind Alison and wrapped her
arms around her nude friend.
Alison felt Clare’s bare breasts and pubic hair
covered mound pressing against her back. “I shaved you
last night after you had passed out. From now on, when
someone eats your delicious slit, they won’t get pubic
hair stuck between their teeth. If you want to, I’ll
let you shave me.”
Alison watched in the mirror as Clare’s hands moved up
to caress her D cup breasts. By the time Alison’s hand
had moved up to push her friend’s hands away, Clare’s
fingers were gently pinching her enlarged nipples.
Instead of being able to push the questing fingers
away, Alison’s hands were only able to cover them as
she felt the erotic sensations emanating from her
breasts.
One of Clare’s hands moved down her smooth belly and
caressed her hairless vagina lips. Alison was amazed
at the intensity of the sensations that resulted from
having her bald pussy played with by another woman.
She found that she had no will power to say no when
Clare led her back to bed.
Clare positioned the brunette in the middle of the
rumpled bed before she went down on her again. Alison
was responding to her friend’s tongue and lips by
cumming several times. When Clare turned around to
settle her own pussy down onto Alison’s face, Alison
was so sexually excited, she did to Clare’s clit and
vagina, exactly what Clare had done to hers. Finally,
after all these years, Clare had gotten Alison right
where she had always wanted her. Clare reached several
large orgasms as she rocked her cunt back and forth on
Alison’s pretty face.
The two women lay together in the bed with their arms
around each other. Alison’s mind was in a state of
confusion. The last twelve hours were the most
debasing of her life. They were also the most erotic
and sexually satisfying. She had found that by finally
letting go with her sexuality that she had mind-
blowing orgasms. She looked into Clare’s face to find
her blonde lover smiling at her just before they
kissed. The doorbell interrupted them.
Both women got out of bed and put on robes. They went
downstairs to see who was bothering them. It was after
noon on Saturday and Alison was not expecting visitors
and Nick had left a message that he would not be back
for several days. Alison looked out the peephole and
saw that it was Graham Gray. She had dated him before
she and Nick were married. She had expected him to be
at the Capitol with Nick while they were arguing their
cases and giving depositions. She wondered what he was
doing here as she unlocked the door to let him in.
Graham had the photos in his pocket as the door
opened. Alison’s hair was slightly tangled and her
lipstick was smeared. She had on a pink robe that was
just thin enough to see her nipples protruding from
her large breasts. He brought his eyes up to meet hers
before she got mad about him staring at her big tits.
“Hello, Alison. Long time no see. Do you mind if I
come in to talk?”
He brushed by the tall brunette and entered the living
room without giving her time to answer. He saw Clare
sitting on the sofa smoking a cigarette in a blue robe
that probably belonged to Nick. Graham remembered the
night he had fucked the pretty blonde in the ass and
his cock got even harder in his pants.
“Hello, Clare. This is a surprise finding you here.”
Actually, it wasn’t. He had recognized her in the
pictures as she and Alison were getting off the
basketball team bus.
Clare said, “Hello, Graham. Are you as big of an
asshole as you were the last time I was in New York?”
She was referring to the night that he had gotten her
high on pot and had anal sex with her while she was to
high to protest. Even though Graham had a small dick,
her anus had been sore because he had not used
lubricant. Graham laughed and nodded his head.
“Actually, that is part of the reason I am here.
Someone has given me some pictures that were taken
last night. They are very incriminating. It shows the
two of you getting on a bus with a bunch of black
basketball monkeys with your hair and clothing all
neat and fresh. Then the other pictures showed the two
of you getting off the bus with your hair and clothing
all wrinkled and in disarray. The Good Lord only knows
what Nick or your family would think of these
pictures.” He removed the pictures from his pocket and
laid them on the coffee table in front of the two
women.
Alison felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her
stomach. She reached with shaking hands and grabbed up
the photos. She ripped them into hundreds of pieces
and flung them into the wastepaper basket. Graham
reached into his pocket and pulled another set of the
pictures out and held them up for Alison to see.
“Destruction of other people’s property is a crime.
I’m willing to overlook your violation of the law just
like I am willing to keep your indiscretions a secret.
I do, however, need a favor, and I believe that you
two can help me.”
Alison saw the pictures in her ex-boyfriend’s hands
and her shoulders slumped in defeat. Clare didn’t
really care if he showed the pictures to the whole
country, but she was curious and wanted to know what
he had in mind.
It was at that moment that Alison remembered that she
had not called a tow truck to pick up her car. When
she had gotten off the bus, she had been too upset to
call. After she had gotten home and had the glasses of
wine, she had completely forgotten. She excused
herself and went to the other room to call the dealer
and get them to tow in her car, or, whatever was left
of it after setting on the side of the expressway
overnight.
While she was gone, Clare told Graham that she
personally did not care if he put the pictures on the
evening news. He decided that, since he was only after
Nick, and therefore, only Alison interested him, that
he would try to bring Clare in on his side. He
explained the situation to her and offered to buy her
a new Lexus if she would assist him in corrupting the
previously innocent housewife. For a new Lexus, Clare
would have been willing to debase and defile the
Virgin Mary. She agreed to betray her best friend
before Alison returned to the room.
When Alison came back to the living room and sat down
on the sofa, Graham explained to her that he had a
detective agency and that his female operatives had
quit last week. In return for the pictures and the
negatives, he needed them to assist Mr. Jones in an
investigation. He would only require their services
for tonight, and they would never see him or the
pictures again. He assured them that they would be
perfectly safe and that, “Nick would never know what
you did last night.”
Alison did not want to do it, but Clare talked her
into it. When Alison agreed, Graham told them that Mr.
Jones would be there in two hours with their
disguises. He kissed each of them on the cheek before
leaving. After he left the apartment, he mumbled
something about, “Fucking sluts.”
Alison was very upset. Clare led her to the kitchen
and fixed a light breakfast for them. Graham had
explained what was to happen tonight and she knew that
they would need the energy.
*
Alison recognized Mr. Jones as the man with the weasel
face that she had seen at the airport the previous
night. He waited in the living room as she and Clare
carried the boxes of clothing up to the upstairs
bedroom. Alison opened the box with her name on it and
almost went into shock. These clothes looked like the
kind of clothes that a common streetwalker wore. She
wouldn’t even wear such clothes in the privacy of her
own bedroom when Nick had asked her to. She certainly
had no intention of wearing such an outfit out in
public. Even the two glasses of Chardonnay that Clare
had given before their bath her had not clouded her
judgement this much!
Clare was already getting into her clothes. Alison
watched as her friend wrapped a dainty pink garter
belt around her tiny waist and hooked it. She twisted
it around until it hung just right. Next, she picked
up a pair of suntan silk stockings, slipped them up
her legs and attached them to her garter belt. She
pulled out a pair of four-inch white stiletto high
heel shoes and buckled the ankle straps around her
small ankles. Even Alison, after what had recently
happened between Clare and her, had to admit that
Clare was a sexy vision as she moved around the
bedroom in such erotic lingerie.
Alison almost hated to see her friend pull the small
pink panties up and cover her love mound. Clare found
no brassiere in the box. The only other piece of
clothing was a thin pink silk wrap mini dress. She put
it on and turned around all the way, like a fashion
model does, as she asked for Alison’s opinion.
Clare came over and helped the protesting Alison to
get dressed in the skimpy prostitute’s disguise. A
black garter belt with lace trim went around her small
waist. Next, a pair of black silk stockings with a
seam up the back were pulled up her legs and attached
to the garter belt. A pair of black four-inch high
stiletto heels was buckled on her feet. A pair of
black crotchless panties were slid up her legs and
pulled into place.
Next, a black brassiere was hooked around her chest.
Alison looked down and was shocked to see that the
centers of the bra cups were cut out and that her
breast were lifted and her red sensitive nipples were
held out as if begging to be sucked on. She glanced in
a mirror and saw her bald vagina plainly visible
through the cut out in the panties. She took a couple
of swallows of the fresh glass of wine that Clare gave
her as she thought of the embarrassment of being out
in public with such sinful lingerie under her outer
clothing.
Clare put her arms around her longtime friend in a
gesture that was meant to imply support, but was only
done to feel Alison’s sexy body against her own. Clare
had slipped the pill that Graham had given her when he
was here into Alison’s first glass of wine.
She could tell that the brunette was a little high as
she ran her hands down over the shapely bottom and
found that the black crotchless panties even left the
crack of Alison’s beautiful ass exposed. She kissed
Alison’s unresisting mouth for a couple of minutes
before she heard Jones yelling for them to, “Hurry up!
We ain’t got all night!”
Clare found that Alison’s white dress was also a thin
silk wrap dress. It was made of an almost transparent
material and was about two sizes too small. Where it
flapped over in front was only a few inches. Alison
would have to be very careful when she sat down, or
even when she was walking, or else the dress would
fall open and expose her nipples peeking through the
brassiere cup cut outs and her bare pussy lips through
her crotchless panties.
When Clare stepped back to get a better look at the
over-all image that the innocent housewife would
convey to everyone that saw her tonight. She saw that
the combination of a thin white dress and black sexy
lingerie was visually stunning. Every article of black
lingerie could be seen, including the cutouts in her
bra and panties, through the thin white material of
her dress. Clare knew that if she were going to get
Alison out of the door of her apartment in these
clothes, she would have to keep her friend away from
mirrors.
Mr. Jones almost swallowed his chewing gum as he saw
the two women descend the stairs. His little needle
dick got harder than it had been in years as he
imagined all the things he would like to do to the
young women. “To bad the boss has other plans for the
two bitches,” he thought to himself, “I would show
them how a real man could fuck them.” He reached down
and pulled his small throbbing pecker to one side as
he held the front door open for Clare and Alison to
leave the relative safety of Alison’s apartment.
*
Jones had dropped Clare and Alison off at a street
corner in a rough part of town. “A large Linclon Town
Car will be through here in a few minutes with four
men inside. Do whatever you have to do to get them to
stop. Let them pick you up and take you to their
apartment. Once you get there, be on the lookout for a
stolen computer system. It’s a new ZL1 system. It’s a
big machine and you can’t miss it. They may have it in
a bedroom. Here are two panic button transmitters.
Push them when you find the computer or if you think
you are in danger.”
There were no stolen ZL1 computers. The four men were
four of the biggest, blackest and meanest rapist that
his detective agency had ever investigated. Graham had
bailed them out of jail just to do this job for him.
And, the panic button transmitters that Jones had
handed the two women, were just kids toys that did not
really work. He was grinning ear to ear as he drove
off to park in an alley and record the coming events
on video and photos.
The videotape would show, through the telephoto lens,
close-ups of Clare and Alison working the street
corner like any other pair of whores. He had them redo
their make up in the car. They really were painted up
like cheap hookers. Jones zoomed out as the big
Lincoln pulled up to the curb. The car blocked the
shot enough so that the viewer was not aware that
Alison had taken several steps back away from the curb
when she saw how rough the huge black men in the car
appeared to be. Clare reached over and pulled her
forward. Jones recorded Clare getting into the front
seat as Alison was pulled into the back seat. The car
sped away.
Jones started his car and followed the Lincoln to the
abandoned apartment building where the four men lived.
His video camera managed to record, through his
windshield, as the two men in the back of the big car
took turns kissing the brunette in the back seat. What
could not be seen was the way their hands had opened
the front of Alison’s wrap dress and the way that they
were molesting her body with their large black
fingers. It also did not record the way she was
desperately pressing the button on the kiddy toy in
her right hand.
When they arrived at the abandoned building, Alison
was pulled from the back of the vehicle with her dress
hanging open. With one huge black man on her right
side, and another on her left, they continued to maul
her large sensitive breasts and now very wet vagina,
as she was practically carried into the building.
Jones almost felt sorry for the dumb bitch. He had
seen how these guys used the white women that they
captured when they got in the mood for sex. Her cunt,
ass and throat would be thoroughly used by each of
them before they turned her loose. Graham had told
them that they could keep her for three days. By the
time three days were up, the brunette would have been
mind fucked as well as physically fucked.
The video cameras installed in the apartment recorded
the abuse that Alison and Clare endured for the next
three days. Jones was kept busy just changing the
videotapes in the machines in the adjacent apartment.
He was amazed that the four brothers could save up
that much sperm during the three weeks that they had
been locked up in jail. Even the young blonde bimbo
seemed to get more black cock than she wanted.
Before the end of the second day, both of the white
girls were willing participants in the sexual orgies
with the well-endowed black men. Jones had already
given up hope of screwing either of the two women.
Hell, with the stretching that their asses and cunts
had over the last two days, it would feel as if he
were trying to screw an open window on a warm rainy
day.
On the third day, another couple of black men came to
the apartment. Clare and Alison willing sucked their
big cocks before they were fucked by them. It turned
out that one of them was a tattoo artist. In big black
letters, each woman received a tattoo over the tops of
their breasts, where it would be seen if they wore a
low cut top or a bathing suit, “A SLUT FOR BLACK
COCK!” The other visitor was a body piercing
specialist. Titanium core gold rings were placed in
both of the white women’s nipples and clitoral hood.
Each of them had to be held down as the piercings were
made without anesthetic. Whiskey was used to sterilize
the wounds before the rings were inserted and the
fittings super-glued in place. Those rings would never
be removed for the rest of Clare and Alison’s lives.
The day that the two women were released, they were
taken to a street corner in the tattered remains of
their streetwalker clothing, and pushed from the
Lincoln. Having no money with them, they had to turn
tricks just to get cab fare home. Clare only had to
suck a man’s cock for her money. Poor Alison had to
let a man fuck her up the ass for her share of the
taxi money.
*
Copies of the videotapes were delivered to Nick Baker.
He sat in his hotel room and watched in horror as his
blushing innocent bride was turned into a black cock-
loving whore. The note that accompanied the tape was
simple. It instructed him to settle the suit at a
monetary amount that was far out of range of what it
should have been. He loved Alison and wanted to
salvage what he could from their relationship. He
resigned himself to the fact that he would go against
the best interests of his clients and settle the first
thing in the morning. He needed to get home to his
wife who needed him.
As soon as the two women had returned to the
apartment, they collapsed in bed and slept for the
next eight hours. Clare woke up first, had gotten her
bags, taken a quick shower, called a taxi and left for
Los Angeles. She had been willing to corrupt her best
friend for a new Lexus, but she had gotten far more
than she had bargained for. In the back seat of the
cab, as she tried to find a position to sit in where
the clit ring would not make her open cunt drool into
her panties so much, she thought, “I bet that son of a
bitch Graham doesn’t deliver on the Lexus, either!” He
didn’t.
*
Later that night, Nick arrived home just as six large
black men were leaving his apartment. They passed him
in the hallway. They were smiling and talking among
themselves about, “some fine piece of ass.” Nick used
his key to let himself into his front door. Alison was
not downstairs. He silently carried his bags up the
stairs and reluctantly looked in the door of the
master bedroom.
Alison lay face down on the rumpled king size bed that
was their marriage bed with her ass still up in the
air. She and the bed were practically covered in
sperm. Her red garter belt held up a pair of laddered
black nylon stockings. He could see when he moved
behind her semiconscious form that her anus and cunt
hung open. Her clit ring was dripping black baby
making sperm onto the sheets and soaking the mattress.
Alison moaned and her body shuttered in orgasmic
aftershocks, causing her anus and cunt to contract for
a second before they dilated again. The movement
caused extra dribbles of semen to come out and run
down her thighs. Neither of them knew it, but Alison
was already pregnant with her first baby. It would be
only the first of the black children that she would
give birth to.
Nick could not understand why his penis had gotten so
hard as he saw the damage that the six black men had
done to his beloved wife. Alison’s left hand came back
between her legs and scooped up some of the sperm that
was flowing down her thighs on her fingertips. Nick
leaned to the side and saw that she brought her
fingers to her mouth and sucked the gooey coating from
them.
When he saw that she was licking the black men’s
babymaker juice that had coated her wedding bands,
something inside Nick clicked – and his stiff cock
came in his pants.