AKA Racquel Darrian's Ultimate Fantasy Part II: Compton Niggas'
Pornstar Racquel Darrian, dressed in tiny white mini-skirt with white latex knee-high boots checks herself in the mirror before putting on her tight fitting top designed to show of her nice tits. Her tan thighs looks gorgeous. As she turns, she can see in the mirror the skirt barely covers the bottom of her ass. "Perfect," she thinks to herself.
She pulls up the flap of her mini and looks at the front her thong, which barely covers anything. She then nervously puts on her earrings before checking herself again in the reflection.
"Yeah, the boys in Compton should like this," she says to herself.. Eva and Teresa, her friends at the strip-club warned her not to go to Compton. But Racquel's boyfriend, who would not be back until tomorrow, had thrown out the business card Teresa had scored for her before Racquel could act on it.
She knew his name was Black Ice, and that he was some sort of hip-hop gansta thug who liked to DJ. Her plan was simple: Drive around in her rented Mercedes and find him. She would ask a few of the locals, check the basketball courts in the area and hope she hit paydirt.
She could not stop thinking about the ganstas who had come in two nights ago. Baggy jeans hanging down low with their boxer shorts barely keeping them up at all. Black Ice had a great little ass and she could not get it out of her head. He was wearing a lot of bling, a wife-beater shirt and a do-rag on his head. They commanded everyone attention when they came in. She enjoyed watching Derrick, her boyfriend, shrivle up in the shadows like a total wuss.
She looked at the clock and realized she had about 12 full hours to work with. As she headed off the 51 into Compton the sun was just about down. She drove around slowly looking at the black locals hanging outside the liquer stores. She remembered Derrick saying 'niggers love basketball." So she followed the flood-lights to several courts, but had no luck.
The black guys Racquel drove by looked mean. She hoped her car didn't break down. After an hour she nearly called it quits, but she saw some 12 year old boys rapping outside a liquor-store and asked them if they knew Black Ice. They did! She was then directed to another basketball court several miles away.
She quickly found the court, parked her car and watched five black guys playing an aggressive game of basketball. She immediately recognized the group from the night before. Sitting on the hood drinking a forty-ouncer was Black Ice. He looked angry and was playing with a 9mm handgun.
Racquel called him over. He quickly put down the gun and slyly walked over, pulling up his pants. By the sudden smile on his face, she knew he recognized him right away.
She smiled big as he came closer. "Racquel Darrian, yo. Fuck girl. Whatcha doin' in this part of town and shit?' He leaned in on her open window and saw her mini-skirt and long boots.
"Dang girl, this for real? Yo a fine bitch. You should stay right here. What did you come down here for. You lost, or need a high, or what?
She giggled, "No, silly. Teresa gave me your business card. I was so excited. I thought I'd never see you again. But then my stupid boyfriend threw it out. So I've been driving around asking for you by name."
"Dang..." He then reached in and kissed her as he let his left hand glide along her thigh up skirt. The front of his boxers were now close to the window. She breathlessly grabbed his Johnson and could feel it growing out of the top as she let her small tongue dart inside of his blubbery mouth.
He was touching the front of her panties when she broke off and suggested they go back to his place.
He went around the car to get in the passenger side, yelling out to his friends: "Yo, niggers. Back to my place," as he pointed down. The others stopped playing and gave Racquel a determined stare. Her pussy started to get soaked. Black Ice seemed like the kind of gang-banger blond cheerleaders slumming it might give it up to, but his friends looked tough and mean.
As they drove up to a dump of a house, Black Ice instructed an obese black kid, about 18, to watch the rental car. He obeyed without question and moved off his milk crate and sat himself on the bumper. As Black Ice led Racquel into house, holding up the screen door for her, he could see how incredible her legs looked in those boots. She looked around. It was a darkly lit crack-house by her standards. The couch looked like it was from the 70's and the carpet had many holes in. The place stank. Cockroaches scattered as he turned on a kitchen light to get them a beer. As she took it, he grabbed her ass. She giggled, drawing closer. His fingers were soon up the back of her skirt massaging her naked ass. She could feel all the dust on his hands from handling the basketball, but somehow it just added to fire inside.
He snarled at her, the way thugs do, but it was also the familiar smile from the night before. His hand ran up her ass crack, pushing the thong string up over his knuckles as he slide a finger into her asshole. They continued kissing. She ran his hands up his shirt feeling his muscles, before returning to the boxer shorts, which were now hanging over his jean fronts like a python trapped in a sack. She felt his huge cock from the outside with one hand as she grabbed his ass with the other.
