DISCLAIMER: This is a work of erotic fiction, the themes of which include interracial sex, cuckolding, and humiliation. If any of these themes are not to your taste, feel free to stop reading at this point.
*
Karen's fingers were shaking as she held the photograph, checking for the third time that she had brought it as she waited for James to answer the door. She could have made a copy, but she had ripped it straight out of the wedding album. It felt like more of an offering that way, a sacrifice, and token of obeisance. Richard would not notice it was gone, not for a long time. Perhaps his mother would be the first to notice, she always liked to look through the albums when she came.
She looked down at the photo, the happy couple. Richard beaming proudly, Karen slim, white, innocent. No hint of what the future held for this marriage, for this couple. The thought excited her somehow. The beautiful contrast between the innocence of the picture and the wicked destiny she was leading it to, the sordid design which had held the tingle in her panties ever since she had taken it from the album and secreted it away in her handbag while she waited for the summons from James. It had only been four days as it turned out, but those days had been torture more than ever before, now that she had seen a glimpse of James's world. Who was he with? How far was he going with his hobby this time?
Karen felt her knees weaken and hurriedly pushed the picture into her bag as James opened the door. He moved aside to let her enter, then slammed the door. He said nothing. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders. She knew what that command meant, and sank to her knees, shuddering.
"James, I ... "
He placed two black fingers over her mouth, the inside skin white and hard against her lips.
"Don't talk, bitch. Later."
His hand moved to his fly. She knew what he wanted. He seemed impatient, he had a need to be fulfilled and as always Karen was thrilled to think it was her that he wanted to please him. The sharp crackle of the zip as it lowered rang loud in her ears. Time seemed to stand still. Now she was the impatient one. Her breasts moved under her heavy breath as she waited, kneeling, her tongue sliding about involuntarily inside her mouth, salivating at what she was about to receive. The heavy, heaving bulge on the black lycra. Dormant power. Her eyes were fixed on the thing, her mind empty of everything, giving itself to worship this thing. Her body, knees digging into the carpet, her full, sagging breasts, her stretchmarked belly, her moistening cunt, all of it had but one purpose which was to serve this thing, to worship it and give it pleasure. This cock. How much of every day did she spend thinking and dreaming about it? What a slut, what an air-headed bimbo she had become, thinking only of this black man's cock all day. But it felt so right, so natural. When she let her mind wander, this was where it wandered to. Why resist nature?
He reached into the lycra shorts and took the thing out, letting it swing down heavily in front of her face.
"Oh God," she gasped involuntarily at the sight of the beautiful black organ. Her heart thumped, she was breathing heavily as she opened her mouth and let her tongue extend to lick it.
The hot touch of the cock against her tongue was just as magical as the first time. She licked, lovingly, with the tip of her tongue, all along the immense length of it, worshipping with all the restraint she could muster. She knew he liked it slow like that. She licked down the growing shaft to his huge black balls, and applied her tongue lower down, all around his crinkled dark globes of pure manhood. His first groan of approval sent shivers all over her kneeling body. How she loved to please him!
The mighty cock was stiffening now, growing in length and girth to what Karen knew to be a quite awesome full size. Sometimes she found herself laughing out loud when she thought of the comparison with her husband's floppy little thing. Karen knew what James liked. She continued to lick along the shaft and under the bulbous round head, tickling it with her tongue, until the moment that James gave the unspoken command to suck.
After several minutes of devoted tongue-ing from her kneeling position, the command came. He grabbed the hair on the back of her head into his fist, almost forcing her mouth wide open. Obediently she opened wide, took the black cock head into her mouth and sucked, eyes up on James as if for approval, she knew he liked that too. The head was quite a mouthful, not much smaller than a tennis ball, and she sucked it gently while stroking her tongue along the taught groove underneath. My oh my. Now she was groaning with pleasure too. Her cheeks tightened with each sucking motion, but the cock filled her mouth so much there was little movement, just the tightening of the little muscles in her cheeks. Slowly she worked down, extending as much as she could of the huge thing down into her throat.
She had practised at home for him, wanting to do better for him, give him the pleasure he deserved. She had bought a huge black toy (her husband had seen it and made no comment), which of course had multiple uses, and practised until she was now quite accomplished at taking such a large thing into her throat. She could see that it was pleasing James as she took it almost all the way, up and down. Like a real whore. His married white whore. Karen knew she had competition and wanted to get the edge however she could.
She felt the cock penetrate her throat, avoiding the gagging that would spoil his pleasure. It was so deep that she felt the wiry, black pubic hairs brush against her nose, inhaling their musky, manly smell. Her pretty face, the face in the wedding picture, just an orifice, just a cunt for his cock to fuck now. Her whole head and neck like an elaborate white cunt for him. He felt it and made some slow thrusts, fucking her mouth and throat. She made a muffled groan of approval, and he grabbed her hair again and thrust harder. When Richard had tried to thrust into her mouth, early in their marriage, she had reacted with fury, throwing him off and rejecting him for days. With James it was so different. She wanted him to fuck her head like this, to do whatever he wanted with her body, she just wanted to satisfy his cock.
Her face was red, there were tears in her eyes as the intense fucking and sucking went on, Karen on her knees in the hallway, James standing imperious over her, using her face as his fuck-toy. She lost her sense of time, caught up in the physical sensation of having her mouth and throat filled with cock as never before, being fucked and used so beautifully, so selfishly. Her make up that she had spent so long applying, wanting to look pretty for James in her middle age, all a mess now of cock juice and sweat and tears. It was not just physical, it was overwhelming emotionally for her. Never had she felt so subservient, such as sense of worship and gift of herself to another. Her Master.
His grunting and thrusting was getting wilder, he arched his strong back and it was all she could do to keep her mouth on the thing, keep sucking when she could and stay on her knees. He grabbed her head with some violence now and held it down on his cock, deep in her throat. She braced herself and felt the hot jet in her throat, opening further, determined to take it all. She felt it pump through his cock, ten, twelve pumps, then slow, the cock mercifully relenting and softening in her mouth. A lot of cum had gone straight down her throat, now the fat cock head lay on her tongue, still oozing white essence. She savoured it in her mouth, licking the head again, then gazed up at James as she swallowed.
He grinned. "Good girl," he said, the closest to praise she had had in a long time.
She was still fully dressed, on her knees, face-fucked and used, full of his cum. Deliriously happy. She had never swallowed for Richard, in fact the very thought disgusted her. But for James it seemed a beautiful thing, an act of worship and devotion. Signifying something. A special bond, stronger than her marriage bond. Ownership.
He lifted her by her hair, a cruel contempt in his eyes, so aware and sure of his power over her. He zipped up.
"Thank you James," she said, wiping her mouth and dabbing at her mascara.
