Leviticus Johnson is the Alpha Male. His appearance is startling. He's half a head taller than 6 feet, tips the scale at 240, and his body fat is less than 4 percent. For those who don't believe a man with a 58-inch chest can have a 30-inch waist, meet Mr. Johnson. Leviticus, and only his very best friends call him by his first name, grew up on the mean streets of the South Bronx.
His face, black and handsome, is etched with something sinister that helped keep him alive for the first 16 years of his life, until he left that neighborhood forever. Now 37, and enjoying a nice lifestyle compliments of the white folks who fall under his spell, he has reached perfect maturity. Perfect face, perfect body, perfect mind.
He prowls his world, the rich communities near Dallas, Texas, feeding his appetite for beautiful white women with some of the richest the area has to offer. Rarely does he spend two consecutive nights in his well-appointed home because they beg him to occupy theirs. He stalks the malls of Southlake, Frisco, Plano, and affluent North Dallas in an outfit that one has to see to believe. Highly polished black combat boots, very tight black biker shorts, and a cutoff black sweatshirt that showcases his abs, upper back, biceps, and immense shoulders.
His skin gleams and is as black as onyx. Large veins run up his arms and across his pecs. His huge cock is laced with thick veins as well. Most people stare, but some have the look he searches for. The look that gives them away. The look that says, "You terrify me, but I am yours for the taking." It was late Saturday morning at the Galleria, and the predator was looking for the look.
* * * * *
Diana Anglin is fresh from the shower and taking stock. Only in rare instances did she acknowledge her own stunning beauty, but she liked her reflection this morning. She looked vibrant, healthy, tanned, particularly fit, and completely content. She was well aware that little girls, even very beautiful little girls, from small Texas towns didn't often get to lead the lifestyle she did. "Pretty Woman" and "An Officer and a Gentleman" aside, she knew happy endings were a bullshit myth. For most girls like her, happy endings happened when they made it through a family reunion without being pawed by more than one male relative.
Almost never did a handsome, wealthy man walk into a shit-hole diner in a dusty West Texas town and fall in love with a girl barely out of high school. Then marry her. Then take her home to an honest-to-God mansion in one of the richest suburbs of Dallas. Oh yeah, she absolutely knew how lucky she was.
Her maiden name was Italian, something impossibly hard to spell, but her grandfather was German, her mother Mexican, and she always believed there might be a Black in the family lineage as well. This combination gives her luxuriant dark hair, creamy olive skin, beautiful, swollen lips, and smoldering eyes that virtually mesmerize men and women caught in her gaze.
She is just a half-inch taller than a woman should be to wear petite sizes, weighs 115 pounds, has natural, firm 36C breasts, and a 19-inch waist. Her belly is tight with softly defined abs, her legs sculpted with beautiful thigh and calf muscles, and her ass is hard and round. In a word, Diana Anglin is breathtaking.
There isn't a man who sees her that doesn't want her, including the teachers and priests in the schools and churches of her childhood, and she brings secret desires to the surface in many women as well. She is 28 and still gets carded. She looks great on the arm of her prince charming, Wade Anglin, who is tall, fit, very handsome, and 25 years her senior.
"How can you be so lucky?" It's a question Wade hears more than any other. He's smart, handsome, and loving, but Diana's husband knows that it is not these alone that attracted his young wife to him originally. Rich. Filthy, inherited rich is what he is and what it was. After 10 years of marriage, he still worships his wife. She fulfills his every fantasy, loves him, and makes him better than he ever was alone. Life is very, very good for the Anglin's. Every day is like Christmas, and they have not a care in the world.
When Wade saw his wife standing in front of the full-length mirror wearing nothing but a pair of high-heeled sandals, he did what he always did. He went to her, dropped to his knees and kissed the incredibly soft, sweet skin of her lower belly. Diana also did what she always did. She leaned back against the vanity, lifted one leg and wrapped the picture-perfect calf around the back of her husband's head and pulled his face into her pussy. She liked it that Wade liked to be on his knees. She had trained him to like many things, but he had already known how to use his mouth like a pro.
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"Baby," she said softly, "when you're through, can we go shopping?"
"Ohhhh yessss, sweetheart. God yes." Mr. Anglin's voice was muffled and came from inside his wet, sweet prison.
* * * * *
As Mr. and Mrs. Anglin walked hand-in-hand through the opulent mall, they saw Mr. Johnson at exactly the same moment he saw them. They stopped. Stared. Tore their eyes away, but remained frozen in time and frozen to the spot. This incredible specimen had stirred something primitive, something hidden, in both of them. Mr. Johnson saw the look he had been searching for and slowly, athletically moved toward the couple.
Now their eyes were locked on him and moved as a matched set from his boots up his massive legs, to his obscenely bulging crotch, then chest, then face. He felt his huge member lurch around in his shorts as he studied the incredible young woman. Diana saw what Mr. Johnson felt, and her breathing became a little labored.
"How do you do?" His voice was very low and very sexy.
First Diana's hand then Wade's disappeared into Mr. Johnson's. They felt the strength in his handshake and melted in his presence. He was so superior, so sexual. He didn't smile exactly, but the couple saw beautiful white teeth set in the magnificent black face.
"Why don't the two of you buy me a cup of coffee?" the giant black man said. "Let's talk a bit."
Wade thought it sounded like an order not to be disobeyed. Diana was thinking hardly at all.
"When we get to the food court, would you mind if your wife sits next to me?" Mr. Johnson asked.
This monster was making him feel things, subservient things straight out of his fantasies. They were feelings similar to the ones he felt when he dropped to his knees to worship his wife. Visions flooded his consciousness. Visions of this beautiful man naked, his huge cock pistoning into his young bride's pussy. Visions of Diana's face twisted in pain and pleasure as she moaned for more. Visions
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of himself on his knees, Mr. Johnson's cock, slippery with Diana's sweet cum, approaching his waiting mouth. Jesus Christ! Stop it, Wade.
