Pamela, my live-in girlfriend, had come home from work several times the past few days in a bit of a sour mood. Pamela works for a small construction company in the administration offices as the office manager. Each day I had asked if something was bothering her, to which she declined to answer, shrugging off her troubles as if they didnât exist. Finally, after about a week of this routine, I insisted she confide in me what was going on at work. Reluctantly, she began to open up. She started by saying that they had hired a new foreman, and that he was rubbing her the wrong way, and she just didnât care for his aggressive personality. I asked what he had done to offend her, and she said heâs just one of those macho construction types that thinks all women are sex objects. I asked how in the world did she gain that insight into a man that had just started work in their company. She said that his mannerisms, comments and just the way he looks at all of the women in the office made her realize that this guy is just a sex fiend.
I asked Pamela what the guy was like, and she hesitated for a moment, and then said that the reason she is so upset about this man is probably because he is black. Following it by saying, that she doesnât like the idea of a black man lusting after her. I grinned, and wanted to say how lucky she is that all men lust after her, but I could see that she was clearly shaken by this and didnât want to trivialize her frustration. Instead I suggested that she minimize her contact with this man, and maybe he would leave her alone. She accepted my advice, by saying she would try to avoid him.
I sensed she was starting to relax about this problem, so I casually asked her what the guy looked like. She started by saying that he looked intimidating, and that he had an air of dominance about him, and he has the physique to back it up. So I asked what made his physique seem so intimidating. She said he just has a tough exterior, from his shaved head to his tight work shirts with the sleeves rolled up over his enormous biceps, his barrel chest and tight chinos over his muscular legs and butt. I chuckled a bit, and asked if she were sure she wasnât a bit turned on by this black bull. Then I asked her if she, even for moment, wondered what his package was like. She smiled, and said yes, of course she had, but she would never do anything with a black man.
A few days passed without incident until the one day she came home and said this man, Ron, had cornered her at work. Ron had started in by accusing Pamela of being a racist, to which she refused, but he insisted that she didnât like black people and didnât see them as equal to her. She tried to defend her position, but the more she struggled the more she realized that perhaps she was a racist. Admittedly, she has no close friends of color, but she is always polite and friendly to everyone. He continued, by saying that he felt certain that she would never consider dating a black man due to her prejudice. She argued that it wasnât even a possibility since she had a boyfriend. Ron told her when she was tired of whimpy white men, and wanted a real man to show her the power of ebony, he would gladly show her the way. He punctuated his statement by pulling her against him so that the bulge in his pants rubbed against her backside, saying one day he was going to get some of her white ass. Pamela pulled away, frustrated that this man thought she would slut herself out to him. Ron laughed, and swatted her gently on the ass saying that he knew she would be back, begging for it. Pamela turned and said, ânot in your wildest dreamsâ.
I couldnât help but feel a bit angry that this man was imposing himself on my girlfriend, but strangely I was also excited at the images that danced through my imagination. I had envisioned a mammoth black man towering over my sweet little girlfriend, using her in any way he wanted to. I guess I am a bit twisted in my thinking, but itâs my imagination. I asked what she intended to do about this situation, and she replied that she really didnât know what to do. I asked if she were even remotely attracted to him, and she paused, looked at me, and meekly confided that yes she was embarrassed to admit it, but she was becoming attracted to him. I asked if she had thought of having sex with him, and she blushed and said yes, several times she had tried to imagine what his cock was like, and how powerful he would be in bed. I suggested that perhaps she should find the answers to those questions, and the benefits could be two fold. She could satisfy her thirst for his black cock, at the same time disproving his assertion that she was racist. She asked if I would be ok with that, and I simply replied that if she wanted to, that it would be fine with me so long as I get to know everything that happens, âNo secrets allowedâ. Pamela said she would think about it, but doubted that she would do anything with him.
The next week Pamela came home from work one day with a smile on her face, the kind of smile that revealed she had done something pleasant, but naughty. I knew right away that something had happened, so I asked how her day was. She said fine, and followed by correcting herself, âgreat actuallyâ. I asked what happened. She said that Ron had come into her office and abruptly asked her is she had considered whether she wanted to get some black dick. She was shocked by his forwardness, but answered that yes she had, and yes she was interested in trying his âdickâ. He grinned, and confidently said he knew she would end up wanting some of it, and asked what, when and where she wanted it. She replied that she was going to leave all of that up to him. He said, âcool, I like to make the rulesâ. He said he would come back to her office during the lunch hour when most of the office staff leaves to eat lunch away from the office.
He came back as he said he would, and sure enough the office had emptied except for Pamela, who sat anxiously at her desk in her private office waiting for her first experience with a black man. He walked into her office, closed and locked the door behind him. Her anxiety turned to fear, did she really want this, yes. Was she going to be able to handle whatever he wanted to do with her, she was going to try. Ron sat down in a chair opposite of Pamelaâs desk and asked her what she wanted for lunch. She laughed, asked what he wanted her to eat. Ron answered by saying that she was definitely going to get to feast on his cock, but he wanted to see what she looked like. He told her to stand and strip. She obliged without hesitation, never taking her eyes off of Ronâs menacing stare. Once she was naked, Ron motioned for her to come around to his side of the desk. He admired her body, and she sensed that he approved.
She stood there naked and exposed, totally vulnerable to whatever his whims may be. Ron said, âthese are the rules, whatever I say you must do, any objections will be dealt with quickly and firmly, and I can be a nasty brother so you better be prepared for anythingâ. He asked if Pamela accepted these rules, and she sheepishly agreed to follow his commands without question. Ron was pleased and told her to get on her knees in front of him. She did as she was told. He told her to get his cock out, and she began to unbuckle his belt and remove his trousers as he sat there watching his new puppet do everything he said. His pants undone, he stood, as Pamela wiggled his tight pants down his muscular legs. His bulge was still confined by his boxers, but his pants were around his ankles. She grabbed the waistband of his boxers and began to lower them past his half hard cock, anxious to see what she had been imagining the past few weeks. She gasped as his cock fell out of his shorts right in front of her face, it was huge to say the least, the largest she had ever seen in person, and it wasnât even completely hard. Ron laughed at her surprise and said she looked like she was hungry for his cock. She smiled, and said âoh yes, I would love to taste that big cockâ.