I hated how the acts evolved, I promised myself that the next time it would be different and I made him promise it too. But I loved to lose after I had resisted even with my fingernails, never giving up that position of "you know you're better than this" but when I had it in my mouth it was too late; my eyes crossed and the next thing I knew I was sucking him to the rhythm of my heartbeat, deep, steady, wet and always, always, no matter how I started, I had to think about the ergonomics of the blowjob, he had to be lying down, with a comfortable support on his head to be able to see how my hair and makeup were falling apart, how my face was torn between offense and pleasure every time the tip of his cock tickled the back of my throat, I would say "this and that" over and over again, I would say it to him and I would also say it to me, "Mommy please, this one and I'll leave you alone" he repeated to me, because he didn't have the obligation to get there but he felt the need to give the best of the best to such a perfect cock and child, and the best I could give him was me; No parts, no sections, all me, all my attention, all my love, all my soul, all my values, all my virtues, because he is like that, a binary, an all or nothing, a very strong light that does nothing but attract you to his eyes of the sea and his cock of the sky.
He was the owner of an almost permanent erection; a characteristic that has remained intact throughout these months; he would cum very often and very hard, at each expulsion of semen he would give you a little yes, muscles contracted, teeth clenched, eyes closed, veins bulging, holding his breath until he could return, return to the world and let himself go, free himself from that which made him claim me as superior, as black, as flesh, as human warmth, as protection and shelter; In those few minutes, hours, before the next erection, he was almost a very relaxed child, that fury disappeared from his eyes and they stopped being green to become brown like honey; While he was going through that valley, I was constantly living at the peak, in fact, I was passing from one stage to another stage that was no less intense but with a different nuance; I was questioning myself, reproaching myself, without ceasing to squeeze my clitoris.
I would relive several times what had happened, how it had happened and why, what my actions were due to, why I did what I did, and I would not let go of my clitoris.I relived several times what had happened, how it had happened and why, what my actions were due to, why I did what I did, and nothing made sense but it was all worth it, I could not change anything and I did not want to because his presence justified everything. Maybe I had to face consequences, yes, even his, but I needed him to be happy and have everything I wanted to have, he was my light. My whole body thanked me and my heart was filled with happiness. I discovered once again that this joy came from the good that I could provide for this child, my child.
It became my favorite secret activity, my life was me, but it was me being his. waiting for the next time he wanted to betray me, I wanted it to get worse, always worse, I asked the stars, the universe, even God. On the sly I was making a specialty of him: how to reach to lick his balls while I had his whole sex in my mouth, how to wet him until his saliva dripped under his testicles, I counted how many times he came in my mouth before I had to pull him out to breathe, it was my personal challenge, when I realized, it wasn't just oral sex anymore, I was making love to his cock, I was making love to his selfishness, I was in love with a white member that demanded my attention, my mouth, my tongue, my throat, my mega breasts, even my fingers that could remember the touch of his skin, his veins, his soft glans, always wet with precum, the softness of his testicles the firmness of his erection, the tension of each spasm in the orgasm that was so strong that I could even take his pulse with my tongue.
Since then I always wonder if I live in the fiction of my dreams, in my desire to be the multitool of a white boy, in the shiver that runs through my body when without warning he violates my ass with his finger while we are in public, just because, because he is white, because I am flesh, because I have mommy love inside me, because all my "no's" are full of love, because all my "no's" are full of "Insist a little more, the more annoying you see me, the closer I am to saying yes", I am a world of possibilities for him, and each one of those possibilities is more reprehensible than the other, more embarrassing for a woman like me, more reprehensible, and therefore, much more exciting.
It is my duty, it is my reason, I'm black.
