Leasas Graduation Ch 2

An hour before going down to the paint store to see John, I found myself looking into my full-length mirror brushing my long blonde hair. I was naked and began marveling at the pinkness of my ass cheeks from Big John’s spanking of them the day before. I felt so sexy seeing the mark this powerful man had left on me. It made me feel so mastered and so powerless and so owned.

I found myself walking around my bedroom with an exaggerated sway to my hips. Looking in the mirror, I could see my pussy lips were swollen, my clitty stiff. My nether lips began to glisten in the mirror, as even the thought of this old black man began to heighten my arousal to the bursting point.

As I did the night before, I had to lie on the bed, spread my thighs and relieve my libido a couple of times before getting dressed. I felt light headed, almost drugged, by the sensations brought on from the memory of this dominant, black, stud-horse of a man.

I had never known feelings like this for any man before. But then, I had never known an older black man before. I was becoming educated to the effect a middle-aged, black man could have on a young white girl. It was addictive.

On the ride down town, I sat in the back of the limo dressed and made up as beautiful as I could adorn myself. I felt like Guinevere to my father’s Arthur, being offered up to the more powerful Sable Knight, as though I had been won as spoils of a battle lost by Camelot. And this Sable Knight would have but one use of his spoils: sexual satisfaction.

When I arrived at the paint store, I jumped out of the limousine and brushed by two young black boys trying to sell me a newspaper. I had no interest in buying a paper and no use for their annoying banter. I made that clear to them in my brush off. By the looks on their faces, I could tell they didn’t appreciate it. But what did I care? I had more important things on my mind.

Entering the large paint store, I could see Big John across the floor talking to another black co-worker. My heart began pounding as I walked up to the two of them.

“So babe, what chew doin’ here?” Big John asked as I walked up.

The question threw me. Didn’t he know? Did he forget?

“Well...um...I thought we were going to get together today,” I was forced to answer.

I could see the shocked look on the face of John’s co-worker, a rotund black man around John’s age. He couldn’t believe this blonde teenager, the President’s daughter, was coming down to the store to meet his 55 year-old buddy, John.

“Oh yeah, almost forgot. Sorry babe,” John said as he slung his big arm around me and casually reached down, palming my left ass cheek.

“Ya see, Jesse,” John explained to the fat man, “I treated little Leasa here to dinner last night. We had quite a time. Didn’t we sweetheart?”

“Uhhh...yes, I guess we did,” I struggled to follow his lead.

“ Fact is Jess, Little Leasa here had the biggest piece ‘o meat I ever saw. And man did she wolf it down! Ain’t that right, sweetie?”

“Well...I guess I did...” I fumbled, thinking we were putting one over on Fat Jesse—but not really understanding John’s double meaning. In reality, Jesse was the one reading right along with the double entendre John was crudely using, and the corpulent black man was now starting to laugh at me.

“Ya know Jess, this little girl likes her meat rare. Ya might even say—raw! Ain’t that right Leasa?”

“Yes, yes I do,” I continued the charade, still not understanding why Jesse was snickering and laughing. All this time too, John continued to squeeze and pat and rub my ass cheeks. It was embarrassing me, and I periodically tried to look around behind us to see who might notice this.

But John’s fondling of my ass was also getting me hot. I liked it. Part of me wanted him to stop for fear of being seen; part of me wanted the large black man to continue his playing with me.

“Well anyways Jess, this little girl washed it all down with a nice long drink...ya might even say she chug-a-lugged it all down too. Ay, Leasa, sweetie?”

“Yes, I guess I did.”

“Ya knows Jess, Leasa loves dat raw beef. May want to treat her sometime ya self, ay?” John said with an obvious wink to his obese co-worker.

“Yeah man, sho’ would like the oppa-tunity,” Jesse said turning to me, “Leasa, will ya let me treat ya to some chow sometime?”

“Sure,” I said, still not getting the joke, “I love Chinese.”

“Well,” Jesse said, “Ya ever try African?”

“Ummm...no, I really haven’t...can you get that here in New York?”

“Oh, you bet, baby! I’ll treat ya to a whole 10 course meal in African...kinda like sushi—all raw!!!” With that, both Jesse and John broke out laughing. I tried to laugh along too, although I’m sure to them it was obvious I had no idea what I was laughing about.

“Ok, Lease, baby,” John finally continued as the laughter died down, “Here’s my key. Why don’t you goes back to my office and wait fo’ me. I’ll be back in a few minutes when my break starts, k?”

“Sure, John,” I said, taking the key from him.

As I turned to walk back to his office, he gave me a little swat on the ass, almost for good measure, just to show Jesse his mastery over the President’s blonde, blue-eyed daughter.

Walking back to Big John’s office, I finally noticed several white employees staring at me, almost frozen in place, with both shock and...anger, I think...etched all over their faces. They saw John’s arm around me. They saw his hand playing with my ass. It was obvious to them all what was happening, and they couldn’t believe it...didn’t want to believe it...but could see it happening...and couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

I waited alone in John’s office for what seemed like an eternity. Finally he entered, closed the door behind him, and faced me expressionless. We just looked across the room at each other for a few long moments until I made the first move, walking up to him, throwing my arms around his neck, and putting my lips to his in a deep, deep kiss.

Our tongues explored each other’s mouths, but it was mine that did the most work. At that point, it became apparent to both of us that I wanted him even more than he wanted me.

I crushed my breasts against his chest and ground my pelvis to his. I wanted this old black man more than any white boy I had ever known. As our lips broke, I nuzzled my face into his thick neck and began sucking on it, acting just like the high school girl I was, desperately trying to give him a hickey.

He pulled my arms from his neck and roughly pushed me back:

“What chew doin’, girl? I cain’t go back on the floor wit chew markin’ me up!”

Then he pulled a chair out from behind the office’s desk and plopped it down in the middle of the room.

“I wanna see you strip fo’ me, bitch!” he said, bluntly. And then he crossed his arms and waited expectantly.

I looked at him stunned.

“John...I...I... can’t do that here,” I half pleaded.

“Sho’ ya can. The door’s locked,” he demanded.

I just stood there trying to think my way out of this situation. Meanwhile, John turned and flicked on the radio which was playing some old ABBA tune (my favorite group), I think it was “Dancing Queen,” and sat, arms folded, waiting.

Long seconds ticked away until finally my mind blanked. I began swaying my hips and dancing for my new master.

As I danced I slowly reached up behind my shoulder blades and began unzipping the short black dress I had worn for this demanding black man. As I zipped it down and continued dancing, Big John began to smile. His blonde toy was pleasing him.

Finally, the dress just slid down my torso, down my legs, and to the floor. As I danced, I stepped out of it and kicked it aside. I was really getting into it now. I pushed my hair up, allowing me to show my body off to this African King who watched happily from his throne. I was his young, blonde ‘Dancing Queen’ and it thrilled me as much as him.

I un-hooked my bra and let it slide down my arms revealing my free-swinging breasts. He smiled approvingly, and I noticed the huge swelling taking place again, from between his legs, stretching up under his belt line. I was proud I could make such a powerful weapon come to life. Unlike Helen, I wasn’t launching a 1000 ships, but I was launching one very large and powerful shaft.

I turned away from him and peeled down my hose very slowly, so he could admire my ass. In a mirror on the opposite side of the room, I could see my bent over pose was also revealing the rear view of my full, pouting pussy. John’s eyes became wide at the sight of his ultimate object of conquest.

Big John’s dick was straining within its confines now, throbbing and lurching, now and again, to get at me. After stepping out of my hose, I slipped my high-heels back on and danced over to where he was sitting. I straddled his chair and squatted down on his massive organ, rubbing my pussy over the writhing, entrapped monster—performing what we now know as a “lap dance”.

As I rubbed my pussy up and down his shaft to the beat of the music, I put my arms around his neck again and gave him a deep kiss. When our lips parted, I stood up again and danced away from him. I noticed a large wet streak that I left on the front of his pants where I had rubbed my pussy lips. They were leaking heavily for him. He glanced down and saw it too and whispered:

“Shit. Girl is one fuckin’ horny snail!”

Then the giant black man stood up, hoisted me in his arms and loaded me onto the desk. He undid and dropped his pants—again, he wore no underwear—and slapped his huge black organ on my belly two or three times. Then he began rubbing the fat head of his dick up and down along the swollen lips of my labia.

“John...no...I, uh...please...no, I can’t...” I pleaded for him to stop.

As he plunged the immense cock into me, he quickly saw the reason for my alarm.

“Shit! Girl, you a virgin?”

I turned my head away in embarrassment. I whimpered, “Yes.”

“Holy shit!” the evil man exclaimed, “Ain’t had one ‘o these for a long time. Didn’t think none existed no more beyond the age a fifteen.” Then he laughed and continued pushing forward using all his weight and strength.

My mind frantically tried to revisit how I could have ever gotten myself in this horrific situation. I had always pictured giving up my virginity to that one beautiful white knight in shining armor—on my wedding night. How could it be happening this way? On my back, on top of a desk, in a seedy back room of a paint store, with a black man older than my father! I had always gossiped and laughed about the “sluts” in high school who would even go to third base. Now here I was, giving my virginity up to an old, pot-bellied black man!

I tried to resist the rutting, black brute on top of me, but John was too large and too powerful: the dike burst. I half screamed, trying to stifle myself, in fear that others would find us in the act. As I lay back, wishing this could all be a dream I could wake up from, John continued to methodically saw his fat, black dick into me.

“Please God, make this not be happening,” I prayed inwardly. But the slapping sound of John’s pelvis to mine belied the prayer.

“Shit, girl. You as tight as dey come,” the laboring black man panted.

The slapping of our loins continued and I began to slowly feel a stirring heat building in my pussy and in my hips. The slapping grew louder and I realized it grew louder because my hips were now thrusting back into his.

“Dat’s it, girl. I knewed you was gonna like it once I got ya goin’,” the old black man grunted.

He was leaning over me now, and I grabbed his muscular biceps to steady myself and work myself back against him. As we worked on, he reached down and brought my legs up under his arms, bending me back onto the desk and spreading my tight channel wider for his ever-deepening penetration.

He leaned his head down and sucked a nipple up into his mouth. Soon he was nearly devouring my entire breast into his sucking, chewing maw. I moaned as he fed on me. It made me so hot! Then I began to spasm and cum on his thick, pounding cudgel.

“Oh, oh, oh....baby...oh, baby...” I moaned over and again.

As I came, John looked down into my glazed over eyes and lectured me:

“Yeah, you ain’t got that high and mighty, bullshit attitude anymo’, do ya? Woulda thought you was some kinda superior bein’ when ya walked in hear yesterday! But dats all gone now ain’t it, bitch! Listen up, girl! You just some honky trash dat was born to offer up yo’ lily white, skinny ass to any black men who want it fo’ a while, and dats all you gonna be doin’ from here on in! So’s get used to the idea!”

All the while, the powerful Black continued hammering his humongous organ into me as if to emphasize each point he made as he taunted me. But soon he had me answering his taunts with, “yes...yes...yes...”

After several more minutes of pounding himself into me, his dick erupted. It seemed as if he were emptying gallons of molten semen into my womb. It kept on spewing and spewing until I could feel it overflowing my cunt and dripping down into the crack of my ass. I winced as the weapon kept expanding and contracting in my channel, stretching and straining my vaginal lips with each venomous spit of African seed. But I struggled to keep him in me. My lust had driven my body to respond in the age old ways that the female of the species has bred into her genetics: to struggle to retain her saddled mate until fertilization can be achieved.

My face contorted as I struggled to absorb all of his size, his strength, and his blackness. My body was being seeded with all of the power and darkness of his African heritage. I knew an early dream of mine to bear a family of little blonde children was now gone forever. There would be no blonde children in my future. My offspring were now to be ebony, curly headed children. They were to be the progeny of Big John.

When he was done, it took a while to pull out. Like rutting animals we were stuck to each other at the genitals. But finally the black python was pulled from its lair. John shook the slimy thing in my face and said, “Clean me off!”

I sat up on the desk and leaned over, as if bowing to my master, and took the fat sloppy dick into my mouth and began washing it off with my tongue. He winced a few times; it was still sensitive from its arousal. I was gentle and loving, cleaning my juices off him.

There was a knock on the door and I jumped. John pulled his pants up and went to the door.

“You’re not going to let anyone in, are you?” I yelled to him in a loud whisper.

“Don’t worry,” he said calmly.

I saw him whispering at the door. Then he stepped back and let an obese figure in, closing the door behind him. It was Jesse.

I was in shock that John would let this over weight black man into the room he’d just deflowered me in. He walked over to me and said:

“Geez, bad situation here, sweetheart. Ya see I gotta get back to the floor, but now Jesse kinda knows what happened. In order to keep this whole thing quiet, I think ya better make ole’ Jess happy.”

My face must have been a mask of growing horror. What could this possibly mean: “make Jess happy”?

“But...I...can’t...what do you...” I stuttered.

“Well, ya know Jesse’s wife is kinda mean and she don’t, ya know, give him no relief at home,” John knit his brow in phony concern.

“I can’t, John, please...” I begged.

“Babe, ya don’t want cha Daddy ta know about all this, do ya?” John reasoned, “Besides ya do want ta help a poor guy in the kinda agony he’s in, right?”

I sat there dumbfounded. In the back of my mind, I knew I was becoming a used toy of these old black men, but I didn’t want to believe it. I began rationalizing in my own head that maybe John was right. Maybe I should just do what I have to to get out of this and go home. And...maybe it’s even true...that this poor fat man is in pain because he isn’t getting ‘taken care of’ by his mean wife. I was young, naive, and vulnerable. Like a stray doe, I was easy prey for these black wolves that were now licking their thick, black lips and getting ready to pounce.

“C’mon babe,” John insisted.

I fought to think straight as long moments slid by slowly. I could see the excited and expectant face of the horny, ugly, obese, black Jesse.

John looked over to Jesse silently and nodded to him. The fat Black walked over to me as John backed away. The fat man stood directly in front of the chair I was now sitting in, my face even with his fly. I heard the loud zip of him unzipping his pants. He pulled out an incredibly thick dick. It was black, circumcised and thick as a beer can. It was only semi-hard at this point. He shucked it once or twice and murmured softly, “Suck it, Leasa.”

I stared at the fat, soft dick. It was slowly growing before my eyes, and I felt mesmerized watching its length and fantastic girth increasing like time-lapsed photography of a flower growing. But this was more like a bulbous, venomous mushroom growing rapidly in front of my face, threatening to reach my lips.

“Suck it, Leasa,” the fat man repeated.

Time seemed to stop as I stared at the bloated black dick growing out of this old black man’s pants. Slowly, ever so slowly, I felt myself leaning toward it as I watched, mesmerized. I could smell its aroma now. It was musky and heavy. He smelled of male animal. I could feel my nostrils flare slightly in arousal, responding to this man’s sex scent.

My lips tingled as I gently felt the soft bulbous flesh of his dick meet the soft pliant flesh of my lips. My lips instinctively puckered and placed their first small kiss on the tip of the rotund black man’s cock.

They kissed it again, and I could hear the fat black man’s wheezing, as his breathing grew heavy and excited. At the third kiss, a string of precum from the tip of his dick stuck to my lips and began forming a web that felt like it was slowly pasting the fat dick and full lips to each other, as if nature intended them to be together in just this way: white lips to black dick.

My tongue now slipped out and began to sneak little licks at the tip’s precum, like a thirsty kitten licking away at a leaky faucet. Soon my tongue became more aggressive and it stroked long swipes up the barrel and around the head of the bloated black gland.

“Shit!” I heard Jesse exclaim in a loud whisper, “She lovin’ it!”

“You better believe it, bro’,” John replied, as he slapped Jesse on the back, and walked to the door.

“Enjoy,” John laughed, and left me and the fat man alone together.

My jaws felt as if they were unhinging as I tried to open wide enough to take thick barrel of Jesse’s dick into my mouth. He placed his hand on the back of my head, guiding it deeper onto his fat piece of meat, whispering:

“Dat’s it, babe. Root me...root me...yeh, you lovin’ ole Jesse ain’t cha’?”

As the the fat man grew more excited, he grabbed my head with both hands and began pumping his dick in and out of my mouth. While he face-fucked me furiously, he began to lecture:

“I’s tired hearin’ bout your perfect little white ass in yo’ daddy’s newslettas, bitch! You ain’t made fo’ nuthin’ but gettin’ on yo’ white knees and beggin’ to suck black dick. Just like you doin’ now!”

He continued ramming the swollen meat into my throat, and continued lecturing me:

“I spent a lotta nights playin’ wit my willie dreamin’ on you girl! Dat sweet smile and blonde hair! Well, now I ain’t havin to use my hand no mo’, huh? Yo’ mouth gonna do the job, just fine!!!”

Then the angry fat man stopped momentarily, pulling my face into the fly of his pants. My nose was pressed deep into his pubic hair, and I gagged for dear life on the bloated 7” of meat he held deep in my throat. In the corner of my eye, I could see he was admiring himself in the opposite wall’s, full length mirror—here he was, old, fat, black Jesse with the President’s beautiful blonde daughter he had only seen from afar, now mashing her face into the fly of his pants while jamming his nasty, fat dick down her once sweet throat.