I'm a nigger bitch.
I once saw a porn clip where a black woman kneeling before a white man stared straight into the camera and said: "I'm a nigger bitch." After saying those words she turned and began to suck the hard white cock in front of her.
Being black, it is probably expected that I would have felt it to be offensive. But I didn't. Seeing her beautiful face and hearing her say those words before turning to suck a white cock was one of the hottest things I'd ever seen. But I had raceplay recordings where a black woman called herself nigger bitch and a nigger slut and a nigger whore before that moment. She called herself nigger bitch and the men and women she had sex with, who often even spit on her or pissed on her, called her a nigger too. She loved being treated that way, and they were happy to use her as their hot black fucktoy.
Now I'm a white owned, white cock worshipping, nigger whore and I love it.
It was bound to happen, I guess. I'd thought about the fact that my secret might be discovered many times, especially when doing it while my wife was at home. But with years having passed with my being able to do it and not be discovered I guess I let my guard down. Then the day arrived that I came home from work expecting to relax and enjoy a nice dinner with the wife and kids only to find that the kids were not there and my wife was seated, completely naked, in the middle of the livingroom floor surrounded by stacks upon stacks of my favorite porn. There was a video recording playing on the big screen that depicted a beautiful black woman riding the big white cock of an extremely attractive blond haired white stud. As I watched the scene shifted to a closeup of the thickness of the bare white cock stretching the opening of the hair fringed black cunt and showed both his prick and her pussy covered in the creamy white juices of her profuse discharge.
"How long, Kev?" Crystal asked softly, her hazel eyes gazing up at me. She calls me Kev, which is short for Kevin.
"The dates are on the boxes containing the sd cards," I answered, removing the jacket of my suit and loosening my tie. As I started to take a seat in my favorite chair she stopped me and had me join her on the floor.
Holding up a small blue box, she peered at its date.
"2005. Ten years, hunh? That's a long time. That's as long as we've been married. And how long did you plan to keep this up? Did you ever plan to say anything about it?"
I sighed as I gazed at the beautiful black woman I'd married. Looking at her, I couldn't help but smile. Even though we'd been married for nearly ten years, and she had given birth to four kids, she still looked like the small, slim bodied, nineteen year old coed I'd met and fallen for.
Crystal is an exquisitely beautiful woman with long, silken, ebony hair that hangs in straight lines to the small of her back. The fall if her hair frames an entrancing face that one would expect to see on the cover of a black fashion magazine, and she has been. There is a slightly Asian cast to her gleaming topaz eyes that, when added to her mahogany complexion, high cheekbones, slender nose, and soft pouting lips, gives her features an exotic look that most men can't seem to resist. In addition to a fantastic face, she possesses a trim physique with small, round tits adorned with Hershey Kisses as areola and nipples, flat belly, small hips, and a tight little ass that displayed just the right amount of rise to make it a mouthwateringly enticing apple bottom. She could have had any man she wanted, but she chose me and I was happy she had.
Don't take that the wrong way. I am quite attractive myself. Dark skinned and dark eyed with a slender face and a medium softness of lips that most women found to be extremely kissable, I also possessed the trim, well-toned form of a distance runner. I never had any problems getting any woman I wanted either. Crystal once told me that it was because I am visual art, standing sleek and elegant like a gazelle and moving with the predatory grace of a panther. A complement which was a real boost to my ego, and which I loved to playfully remind her of on occasion.
At that moment she appeared to be worried. Peering into her eyes, I could see vulnerability and confusion there, as if she could not understand what was going through my mind and feared the worst. Just from observing the emotional turmoil she was experiencing, I was moved. There was no doubt in my mind that she loved me. I figured her concern was regarding what the recordings she had uncovered meant regarding the fate of our marriage. I knew I needed to assure her that her place in my heart was safe and our marriage was secure.
As I lowered myself to the softness of the plush cerulean carpet of our livingroom, I reached out to caress her face. Gazing into her eyes and continuing to smile warmly I spoke softly and disarmingly.
"Really, baby, I never intended for you to see those. And as for why I didn't say anything... What would I say?" I asked, stroking my fingers through the high strands of the carpet. I shrugged. "What would you have said if you were in my place? You've kept your secrets as long as I have mine. Why didn't you tell me about them?"
I chuckled softly.
"Besides, I'm sure you can imagine how much I have dreaded the idea of having this conversation with you. It really isn't something I expected we would ever have to talk about when we got married. But now that the cat's out of the bag, so to speak, I guess we really should talk."
"Where do we start?" Crystal asked with a small smile, the fear in her eyes lessening in response to my lack of an expression of anger.
I pointed at the display on the screen, where the black woman was with another white man, riding up and down on his cock. This was a dark haired man with a huge prick. From the moans of pleasure emanating from the speakers, and the way her wide stretched black snatch was creaming on his prick, the woman was enjoying herself immensely.
"Maybe we should start with you. When did you discover you possessed a love of white dick?" I inquired, continuing to observe the tv screen where Crystal could be seen bouncing up and down on the big white prick that filled her hair fringed black pussy.
"It's more than that, and you know it," she responded, turning her face so that she was looking at herself on the screen and when I returned my eyes to her I found myself gazing at her profile. She slowly cut her eyes toward me, her pink tongue flickering out to moisten her plump brown lips in that seductive way she did, and which she knew drove me crazy. She was watching herself whorishly riding a white man's cock, and with us talking about her love of white cock she had become extremely aroused. "If you're going to ask, ask me the right way."
I immediately knew what she wanted so I did as she asked.