I have watched porn before. Not once and certainly not twice. I can't say that I've enjoyed it — how many women out there would ever profess that they do? But since Brad and I hooked up, that's all he's been getting me to watch.
Porn.
Not just any type of porn. I won't be writing this if it was the garden variety type of porn. You know, like the ones that comes with a story (a Pizza-delivery guy knocks at a door. A buxom blonde bimbo opens and invites him inside. He opens the Pizza box and she smiles when she sees he's got his cock sticking out of a hole in the centre of the Pizza), you know . . . that sort. It was corny, but I kinda liked it.
But no, Brad has got me watching Interracial Porn. Why or for whatever reason, I just don't know. He won't say nothing except that it's good for me.
So I decided to humour him and watch, and watch I did. Sometimes he watched alongside me. We would lie in the bed and make out, and then he'd put on a DVD of 'BlacksOnBlondes' and he'd eat my pussy while I watched. Sometimes we'd role-play: I would be a prostitute and he'd pretend to be Denzel Washington in 'Training Day' and ask if I've got a permit. If no, then I'd have to give him some ass if I don't want to end up in jail. Instead of jail, we usually end up in the bedroom. Tee-Hee!
We soaked up all types of Interracial Porn, and always it involved Black men, not the other way around: Black men banging hot Milfs; Black men fucking white chicks; Black men fucking Cougars; Gangbangs, Orgies . . . Brad signed me up on porn sites online and soon I was downloading interracial stuff from PornHub and other places.
I don't know when it happened, but I got hooked!
I craved interracial porn like it was food!
The more I watched, the more I loved . . . and for some reason, I just couldn't stop watching!
I'd be at my work place in my little cubicle of an office day-dreaming. I had this co-worker buddy of mine named Terrance. He fit the prefect cliche for a man: tall, dark (in this case, Black) and fucking handsome. And his voice . . . Ohhhh, it was like Barry White. I wanted him. I wanted him bad . . .
One afternoon it was nearing closing time. I'd switched off my computer and was putting stuff away in my drawers when I saw him across in his own cubicle still working. The office is empty—wasn't nobody around but us. I slipped my panties off my skirt and slinked towards him.
"Hi, Terrance," I said as I stepped into his cubicle. He looked up startled.
"Oh. Hi, Stacey. Didn't know it was you."
"Oh it's me, alright. What're you still doing here? Thought you'd have gone by now?"
"What? Is it late already?" He looked at his watch, surprised at the time. "Oh snap! Didn't know what the time was. Just wanted to finish up with these account figures. Anyway, what about you? How come you're still here?"
"I'd have gone already," My voice grew mellow as I came behind him and touched his shoulders. "Except I was waiting on you."
That got his attention. He turned to look at me.
"What're you talking about, Stacey?"
"What I'm talking about is that I've been wanting you and I can't help it. I don't want to wait anymore."
I cleared stuff off his desk and pushed his keyboard aside then planted myself on his desk in front of him. I slid my skirt up my thighs. His eyes lit with attention when he saw my bushy snatch wink at him. That got me grinning and I picked up his arm and dropped it on my lap.
"Stacey . . . what if somebody comes . . ."
"Nobody won't," I breathed. "Do me here, Terrance. Right now—I want you."
I pulled him downward towards me. My pussy wanted him—I was soaking up already. I shut my eyes when his lips made contact with my thighs. He kissed his way downward; I gasped when he slid his tongue between my labia. I grabbed onto his desk and later bit down on my finger so as not to moan too loud.
My back rested against his desktop monitor.
My eyes glazed over with lust.
