Author's Note: This story falls somewhere in the same BNWO universe as my previous work A Janitor's Day in the BNWO but I'm not sure where exactly (consider it a work in progress), so there might be a few discrepancies between both stories and their shared universe. Feel free to point any of this out so that I can match everything up better in future stories.
Disclaimer: All characters depicted are 18+.
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Growing up without a dad was difficult in the Reunited States. After the 2nd Civil War many families were left broken and the newly established Black New World Order realized that they needed to begin rebuilding the nation by creating a solid foundation for household dependencies. This meant taking displaced black men and moving them into white homes that were led by single parents. In many cases, it began with former or newly released convicts that needed the stable support of a family. Over time the entire program adapted into a rehabilitation service and inmates were either paired with fatherless white households or given access to volunteer and community housing which could be hit or miss sometimes.
In this case, my mom Susan had signed up for the program hoping a black man would solve many of her problems. Our father had died in a boating accident waiting on tables of black men with their white dates when steering failed and the boat capsized off the Pacific coast. The accident was a major tragedy and the rehabilitation program saw a large influx of new families like mine as a result. I had just begun training as a delivery boy, bringing fresh black seed to the different fertility clinics around the city, but it never paid much and was done more as a conditional service for black men and spreading their sperm. My sister Cindy had a bit more of a promising future ahead of her though having just graduated high school and preparing for university where she planned to become a nurse. However, that plan was in jeopardy if me and my mom couldn't find a way to support her. Obviously she could have just gone and found a black man to take her, but she wanted to do something bigger than that and really help empower black men under the new BNWO.
As a nurse, my sister would be responsible for a lot of the interactions between black men and white women at the various clinics around the world. She would help white women successfully breed while ensuring that black men were in a constant state of satisfaction when tending to their fertile partners. They didn't need it, but the clinic was usually stocked with a handful of drugs that helped maintain erections or sperm production, but Cindy imagined she could promote all of that with her own body instead of harsh chemicals. In fact, she wanted to use her future studies to help prove that direct sexual stimulation was the best way to keep BBCs prepped and excited for white breeding. She knew it was an uphill battle and she would have to experiment with a lot of black men if she were to ever come to the right conclusions. It wouldn't be easy for her to compete against the raw sexual power created by pharmaceuticals, and if she couldn't find support soon it wouldn't matter. Her mother knew this which is why she signed up for the program and was excited to tell Cindy and me about their acceptance into the program and Deon's upcoming arrival.
Deon was described as a 6'2" black man from the deep south who had been relocated during the 2nd Civil War. He was originally incarcerated for selling drugs wholesale to small-time street dealers and given 10 years, but because of the war his time was increased due to negligence and distraction from all the fighting. Arrested in what would become rebel territory during the war, Deon was unable to appeal to the court and join the Union forces, causing him to suffer an additional decade of imprisonment. This sort of treatment made him a fine candidate for the Inmate Rehabilitation Program and was promptly given first choice to accept our mother's invitation to join our small white family despite the large number of violent offenses he had accrued during his time. The man had lived through it all with charges for felony assault, murder, and continued drug dealing while in prison, but my mom felt safe inviting him over because she believed that those crimes were a product of his environment and not a reflection of his true character.
Regardless, I was nervous when I saw his picture because he was so large and muscular. The man had an intimidating aura about him and the sun had darkened his skin from weight lifting outside everyday for 20 years. For someone locked up with poor nutrition and stuck with other violent offenders, he was in incredible health and shape even if his body was covered in scars and tattoos. I could only imagine what the size of his big black cock was, but that kind of information wasn't on his record and pictures weren't normally included. Breeding was expected (and common), but the program's original purpose was to rebuild lives and that was the focus of all his information.
I never really understood his future plans though. He was already approaching 50 and it seemed like he had no interest in going back to work when he arrived which was understandable and we gave him all the time and space he needed until he would feel ready again. Instead, he decided that he would remodel our garage into a home gym and spend most of his time there.
We spent the entire morning preparing for his arrival, cleaning every room spotless and making sure that he had somewhere comfortable to sleep. There were only 3 rooms in the house that me, my mom, and sister used separately so we decided that he would join my mother's room since she had the biggest bed. At first, we wanted to make a cozy spot on the couch for him to rest before deciding which room he wanted himself, but we all figured he would enjoy sleeping in my mom's room since it had been decades since his last time with a woman, let alone a white one.
It was great for me because I thought he would want my room initially, leaving me to sleep on the couch, but it didn't appeal to him. My room was situated between my mother's room and my sisters, allowing me to overhear whatever was going on in either. Cindy was usually talking to her friends about popular black guys, debating who was the hottest guy from school and who they hoped to meet in college. Her friends were hot and everytime they came over I would hide in my room and listen through the thin walls as they discussed their favorite BBCs and how they wanted to pop their cherries. I had a big crush on one of her friends, Alice, too. She was always in a bubbly mood, laughing easily and jumping up and down when she got excited. I never thought she noticed me until one day she saw me running to my room (where I was going to eavesdrop on them again) and asked me to help get her something from the kitchen since she was unfamiliar with it. So we talked a little bit, asking a few questions before she got her drink and I ran back to my room where she promptly began telling my sister about "that guy in the hallway" before switching the conversation back to her favorite basketball players at the new university she was about to attend.
I was smitten. It happened weeks ago at the start of Summer and I still hadn't forgotten it. She was gorgeous with bright green eyes and lush red hair that curled down to the middle of her back. She loved wearing black leggings too, always showing off her slim figure and emphasizing her cute, petite ass. I couldn't really tell what her bust size was, but they looked like a handful every time I got a peak at them when she liked to show off her cleavage in halter tops. But it was her pretty, porcelain smooth face with its sharp, pointed nose set against soft features that separated her from all of my sister's other friends. She even said hello whenever we passed each other in the hallway which always made my day better.
So, when I was allowed to keep my room I was ecstatic. Of course I would have done anything that Deon requested, but listening to my sister talk to my crush a few times a week was my favorite thing in the whole world to do. I even asked my sister for help, but she let me know that Alice had liked a black man she knew from class already. It stung, but it was common for most whiteboys to experience rejection. If she really liked me, she would have let me know, but she didn't. Instead, I was left to my imagination as I eavesdropped on her sweet, high-pitched voice whenever she described the pics of the BBC that her crush had sent her.
When Deon did finally show up there was a brief sense of shock. The doorbell had rang and suddenly everyone had drawn quiet. The tension was thick as we looked at the door realizing a new life for all of us waited on the other side of it. My mother quickly snapped out of it and rushed to the door, calling us to follow behind her. "He's here, quick, look nice you two. Let's not startle him" she said before cracking the door open. It slowly moved with a loud squeak as the three of us peered around the door and saw a massive black man standing there, towering over all of us.
"Oh, you must be Deon," my mother said, greeting him. "I'm Susan, this is my son Pat and my daughter Cindy. We've been so excited to meet you!" She was a bit nervous, but quickly warmed up her tone as she looked at him.
Deon had a fierce demeanor, barely smiling back as she greeted him. He had spent nearly 2 decades learning not to trust people too quickly and Susan was no different. He knew she was harmless, supportive even, but until he grew more comfortable around her and saw the program in action he would keep his guard up. Despite all that, he was still keen to take in Susan's body, eyeing her up and down in front of me and admiring her deep cleavage. Standing just a little over 5 feet, she was the perfect height for a black man like Deon.
My mom was wearing a low cut top with a short summer dress that ended just below her knees. She wanted to present herself as a friendly housewife, wearing bright yellow and whites that complimented her smooth ivory skin. The dress was thin and tight enough that you could make out the shape of her ass, especially when she bent over. Her ass was round, yet surprisingly petite for a middle-aged mother of two but years of house chores had helped her keep fit. Deon hadn't seen an attractive white woman in years either, and his lust for her built quickly until he saw my sister.
Cindy had been standing right behind my mom when Deon looked back at her, noticing her quickly averting her eyes as he began checking her out next. Deon wasn't wearing much, just a blank white shirt that stretched tightly around his muscular chest and baggy denim pants that hid his best feature. Cindy couldn't help herself, gawking at his powerful frame. She had seen large black men before, everyone had, but knowing that one of them would actually be living with her created a new level of intrigue and curiosity that enveloped Cindy. When she looked down after being spotted by Deon, he took it as an invitation to let his view linger on her tight body. Her tits were just as nice as my moms if not a bit smaller and firmer. She had a tight ass and loved to show it off in short shorts. She would go braless at home too, letting her C cup tits poke freely whenever she was horny or turned on from talking about black guys flirting with her. Deon noticed right away, devouring the sight of them hardening in real time as she stood in front of him. I couldn't tell who he wanted more, my mom or my sister, but then he glanced at me before turning back to my mom.
"Deon," was all he said, his arms too occupied with bags to reach out for a handshake of any sort.
"Oh dear, I'm sorry," my mom replied, noticing the bags. "Pat, why don't you take care of Deon's bags while your sister and I show him around. Ok?"
