Dont Text 1

DON'T TEXT

I'm so much better than this.

I don't need this.

I always say it will be the last time. I say that every single time. I try not to text them. I try so hard!

They never contact me. If I don't press send, I will never hear from them again. It's really that simple, just don't text them and get my old life back.

Don't text. Don't text. Don't text.

Don't do it. Think of how embarrassed you always are the next day. Think of your family and how you were raised. Think of your husband and how you won't be able to look at him. No, don't think of him. Think of their two smug white faces, think of how sometimes I hate them both.

Just stay away from them! Respect yourself! I am 28. I am a university administrator. I am married, I have a young son. My father is a surgeon. I was brought up well. I am a good girl.

I don't need this. I don't need them!

Just don't text!

My fingers hit send.

Just like the other times.

They always smile and sneer when I turn up at their dorm room, two cocky self-satisfied young white shits. I am ashamed from the moment I get there, my cheeks burning hotly already even as I knock on their door. I can't even meet their eyes when I first arrive.

It begins again.

They make me kneel naked while they put an old leather dog collar around my neck. They make me crawl. They make me say things.

They hoot and laugh at me while they make me beg.

For their cocks.

I don't even know where my words come from. Deep within me they burst forth then suddenly it is a stream. Yes, I want to suck their cocks. Yes, I want to lick their balls. Yes, I want to be fucked on all fours while I slurp on a thick white dick. Yes, I want to be fucked in the ass with their big white cocks. Yes, I want all my holes wrecked. Yes, I want to be their dirty yellow whore.

I hate them when they make me say these things and I love them for it too. I hate that it's true.

They put me over their knees and take turns spanking me if I am not slutty enough. A good yellow slut uses her words, they say. I wriggle in their laps and moan while their hands turn my asscheeks red and my pussy drools and drips and soaks their pants legs and they laugh at that too.

Then they make me beg again. This time with feeling!

They make me use that stupid gook voice and they cackle and fall over themselves laughing.

Every time they have some new way of humiliating me.

Only when I am broken, humiliated, my heart pounding, my lips trembling, my cheeks crimson in my abasement will they deign to fuck me.

Then they use me. I kneel, a swollen white cock in each hand, slurping on each glistening cock head in turn. I gag while they fuck my throat. They take me at each end and slap my ass and call me their airtight rice cookie.

And I cum. Oh god how I cum. Over and over I cum and I lose myself. On my hands and knees I pant like a bitch in heat while they take it in turns pounding me over and over. I moan and my cunt drips and I explode thrashing about, squeezing on these huge white cocks, the sounds of my unmistakable pleasure filling the room. They make me gargle and blow bubbles in their hot white cum and I do, my cheeks burning in shame and my pussy throbbing in heat. They tell me only a nasty yellow slut would beg on her hands and knees for a cock in her ass and then, holding my little cheeks apart, they make me beg and grovel again before they take me that way.

But first, tonight's new way of humiliating me.

I don't want to do it. Don't make me do it. Oh you pigs!

I am better than this.

My pussy is so, so wet. My nipples are rock hard, my clit too, nasty little traitors. I am so very, very ashamed.

"Stick your cunt up high monkey."

I raise my hips off the bed.

"Squeeze."

The ping pong ball shoots across the room.

They hoot in laughter.

"Do it again and use the voice."