Thank you everyone for all the feedback from my first submission! There were so many it would be impossible to reply in detail to you all. A kiss to you all, and here is the tale that so many have asked me for, the true story of my first ever time with a Black Man.
There is a lot of travelling involved in my job, I have to visit lots of my companyās stores and check that everything is running as per company instructions. I enjoy my job, I enjoy meeting lots of new people, and solving problems, and being constantly challenged to perform. There is a lot of responsibility in my job, I have to play hardball sometimes, disciplining, and being on top of things. Here is how I found out that sometimes I like to let that strong side of me slip, and let someone else take overā¦ā¦
The store I visited that day is one of our better ones, well run, profitable and clean. I like this store a lot, only one thing displeased me about the place. The store manager, Marcus. Oh, donāt get me wrong, heās efficient, bright and good at his job. Heās polite and very personable. So what was upsetting me? Very simple, he ignored me!! I donāt mean he ignored what I had to say, or ignored the points that I as area manager brought, but that he ignored me as a woman. I am sure you girls know what I mean, we always notice when we are being looked at. My breasts are not big, but men look, my legs are good (I wear short skirts) and they ALWAYS get looked at. But not Marcus. He never looked, never glanced, never made me feel anything else but his area manager, not the sexy vibrant woman I craved (at times) to be seen as.
Was he gay? Well, I had heard stories that some of the female representative that visited the store had been seen in other places with himā¦ā¦ and other stories told me that more than one of the shopās assistants had spent quality time with him. So it must be just me!
Now as I implied, Marcus is black. And I had never āgoneā black. Not from prejudice, more from ā¦ā¦. Well, it just never happened. Its not as if I was a blushing virgin when I got married, nor had my husband been the only one who had sampled my horizontal delights. But none of them were black, or Asian, or anything other than true blue white Englishmen. My marriage was now in its terminal decline, and I had strayed a couple of times in the proceeding months, but black had not entered my sights becauseā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦because it had not. Oh, I had heard all those rumours about size, and I totally put it down to that, a rumour. So whilst I found Marcus attractive, I was not actively pursuing him. Ok?
This particular day came about because of one of the companyās regular panics. Budget figures wanted yesterday, performance targets wanted last weekā¦ā¦ā¦ so when I got to Marcusās store, it was already near closing time and it meant we had to put some time in after the store was closed, working on the figures.
I waited in the store office, looking through the initial figures as Marcus closed the shop up. Have I told you about Marcus? This was about five years ago, so at the time, he was 27, I was 32. Heās not overly tall, maybe just on six foot, slim, kinda like a taller version of Prince? (but without the hair) Sharp dresser, always in a good suit, immaculate manners, graduate. I have to admitā¦ā¦.. as he walked out of the office, my eyes were drawn to his arseā¦ā¦ tight and very pinchable!
He came back, the store in semi darkness, and the stores books were produced, pencils, pens, calculators etc. I work with figures all the time, so do store managers, working out the new budgets and targets was not so much difficult, more time consuming and laborious. As we worked together at his desk, we kept bumping our hands into each others, or as we reached for things. His suit jacket was off, and he had rolled up his sleeves. I had taken off my business suit jacket, and was in a rather nice short sleeved blouse, one that fastened and wrapped over slightly. It was white, and my skirt was dark grey, and I had dark grey three inch heels on, with white stockings. I wore my marks and sparks knickers, plain cotton onesā¦ā¦..and a matching white bra, front fastening. That day, I had swept my hair into a pony tail.
For some reason, I could feel a sexual tension growing. Whist we worked, our hands met, our arms bumped up against each other, and we smiled and apologised, my pussy was overheatingā¦ā¦. My nipples were starting to bore little holes in the soft fabric of the bra, and then the blouse. Our legs brushed against each other as we sat, I could feel the heat risingā¦ā¦ā¦. As we worked, and I noticed this more in retrospect than at the time, he started to control how we worked through the details, got me to hand things to him, even to move to the filing cabinet and get things from it. I have to admitā¦.. as I bent to open the bottom drawer, I kept my ankles together, and bent from the waistā¦ā¦.. I wanted to show him that I was a woman, and that I deserved to be acknowledged as such. I knew my skirt would ride up my thighs, and show an expanse of thigh. But thatās what I wanted.
The catalyst to my undoing was at first glance quite innocuous. Marcus dropped a pen on the floor, and as it rolled, the effort to retrieve it was more easily done by me. He told me to (told, not asked, ordered me) to get it. I got out of my seat in a flash, and had to bend, kneel to get at itā¦.. as I did so, then started to rise, I felt Marcusās hand on the top of my head, staying me. āNo girl, stay down thereā
I took in a sharp intake of breath. How dare he!! Not only was he ordering me around, me, his boss, me a strong independent woman, but he had the temerity to put his hand on my body without permission!! Iād show him that he could NOT get away with such behaviour.
Yeah? Well if his actions were so disgusting me, why was I still kneeling, pussy shooting signals all through my body, heart thumping, and an overwhelming feeling of being in my rightful place?
In the silence, there were two sounds that penetrated through to me. One was my heart which seemed so loud, the other was a metallic oneā¦ā¦.. Marcus drawing the zip down on his trousers. I gulpedā¦ā¦