Mocingbird

Redneck girl abused by dad lusts after kinky black crush.

1. Sin

Most people in my town were black. When I was a child, I had a crush on a black boy and in our last day of elementary school I kissed him. I guess a teacher saw the whole thing and, after commenting it with a few other teachers, decided to tell my dad. Really, it was just a closed-mouth peck on the lips. When I arrived home, though, he said that I was turning into a spoiled brat and a whore, spanked me and did something that made me leave school for months. I thought only of my black crush and what he would think of me if he saw me in that state. Before that, I wasn't more into black boys than white ones, but ever since my dad did that, and especially after I gave birth to my brother, I'd been wanting to have sex, and maybe children, with someone that looks as different from me as possible. I read that's actually good for humans. Race mixing, you know?

I must admit I've been kinda desperate to be fucked by black men and therefore I try to seem available. I know they think white women are sluts and I'm not interested in changing their minds. Whenever I looked at my confederate flag bikini in my drawer, that I had stopped using but still owned, I thought of the things he said to me. Once we were watching a show. I was sitting on his lap, and in the episode, a black man played a bank robber and at some point a white woman played one of his hostages. He took a sip of his beer while he stared at me. Then he kept watching and spoke:

"This is why interracial marriage was illegal, babe." He said "That's what blacks do to girls like you."

I believed it. I was around eight, and people are all naïve at that age. So when I looked at my crush, Marcus, I had this conflict in which a side told me he was a potential violent man, and another told me it was all illogical, and it wasn't like black people all had some secret meeting in which they discussed how they could point guns to white people's heads in the most effective ways. But I wanted to believe in my father.

I can only guess that what made me question it all was my reading. My dad didn't read. That's what's expected from a redneck anyway.

After what he did to me, he might as well had started to let me have sex with whomever I wanted. I knew, though, that was impossible in a place like Vicksburg, Mississippi. My mother died when I was 6, so I guess he was just trying to replace her with me. She was a beautiful woman whose tit size and good overall body I inherited. I was a C cup and my ass was big for being thin. I could attract some guys.

This one day I was wearing my Jack Daniel's sleeveless shirt and shorts out of the house. It was one of the few times I saw a black guy walk past our house by himself. In a way ―and at the time I wouldn't have admitted it― I was embarrassed to be seen by him. Not because of how much my clothes showed but because of my clothes... and house, and family. He knew I was trash. Still, I thought for some reason that he would be at least somehow interested because I was white. I registered the time. It was a Thursday evening. Just as I was thinking of an excuse to talk to him, or to some other black guy that happened to pass by alone, my dad yelled from the window.

"Belle!" I felt myself get a little red on the face. He saw and heard me get called by my dad, and just kept walking as I took a glance at him one last time and went inside. My father's anger was the only thing that could make me shake in the middle of Summer.

He closed the door behind me and pointed at me, even if he was at centimeters from me. "Don't you dress like that 'round blacks." he said.

"Okay, dad" I replied, lowered my head and pulled down my shorts a bit. I had thought he was going to spank me, but now I guess at 19 I was a little old for that.

He looked at me and touched my 'heart' as he said: "They're rapists."

I didn't learn my lesson. The next week, on Thursday evening, the black guy walked past my house again. I prepared for it. I had my plaid shirt unbuttoned to show cleavage. I even put on lipstick.

This time I got a better look at him, since he walked slowly and from the distance I noticed he was tall, muscular and his skin was very dark. As I got closer, I started to recognize his face. I couldn't avoid smiling.

"Marcus?" I remembered my dad had gone fishing and he wouldn't be back in a while.

"Hi, Belle." He replied in a voice lower than mine, maybe trying to be quiet. He got closer and I stared at his face, his wide nose and thick lips, that I remembered kissing.

"I ain't seen you in a while." I told him.

He nodded. "Yeah. I saw you last week, I was gon' tell you something when I realized it was you, but-"

"Yeah" I interrupted, knowing he was talking about my dad.

"Actually, I'd looked for you at your new school in the first day of middle school." He said "You wasn't there the whole first year."

I could only keep staring, but my smile wasn't there anymore "Um... Yeah, I wasn't."

Since I didn't want to give more detail I followed up with "You wanna come inside? My dad ain't home."

He shortly looked at my cleavage. "How long will he be gone?"

I took his hand to take him inside. "Don't worry about it"

He resisted me taking him, and I turned around. He didn't say anything, but I could tell by his face. Yet I asked:

"What is it?"

He let go of my hand and shook his head. "Why did you leave school for a year?"

"Well... I had to take care of some things at home." It wasn't a lie, it was just general enough to get away with not telling him. He walked through the door and I did behind him.

I wasn't sure when was the right time to start undressing. I unbuttoned one more of my shirt's buttons and he spoke again, in a louder and deeper voice.

"Is that you?" He looked behind me. He was referring to a framed picture of me in my confederate flag bikini. In order to hide my own embarrassment internally I joked to myself that at least I wasn't wearing cowboy boots with that.

"Yes." I said "My dad took it." I knew he was feeling disgusted, and I'm sure he was figuring me out too. I focused on his facial expression. I kept staring at his arms. And he saw me take glances at his crotch. I was trying to guess his dick size.

"You've grown a lot." I said, trying to change the subject "You're so tall now... And strong."

At that point it was me who lusted more after him, at least it was more noticeable with me. And also, from that point on I wasn't able to tell what he felt, but he smiled then.

"And you're trash."

I felt my face get cold. I wondered if he could tell that I was hurt. I tried to make a neutral expression to not seem oversensitive to him. Though, I forgot about it as soon as he touched the back of my head to get my lips closer to his. I felt his on mine, brushing softly. He forced my mouth open with his fingers on my chin, and I let his tongue touch mine and make it touch the roof of my own mouth. For a few seconds, although I was getting horny, I thought of what my father said, and that maybe what happened was exactly what he told me it could. He then drew his lips out and proved me wrong.

"Are you submissive?" he whispered "I feel like doin' some real nasty shit. I mean disgusting as fuck, Belle."

I appropriately thought of literal dirty stuff, and the idea was a bit less weird than I expected it to.

"I am okay with that... As long as it's nothing painful."

He got a bit further from me "No, not physically." He assured me. He took me by the shoulders and his tone changed again, to the severe one used to call me trash.

"Go get that bikini and put it on."

I ran to my bedroom while my pussy throbbed, and he followed me. I started stripping and when I was naked, he got behind me to stroke my tits and I felt his cock hardening on my ass. He gave me a soft spank once and I got to the drawer. As I put the bottoms on, he licked and pinched my nipples. I finished putting the top on.

"Let's see" he said. I turned around.

"Daamn, nasty redneck girl." He beckoned me with a hand gesture and sat on the bed. He laid his back on the bed, but his feet were on the floor as if he sat.

"Come suck my dick."

I got on my knees in front of the bed and unzipped his fly in a second. I even lowered his pants so I could touch it all. The whole thing wouldn't fit in my mouth, so I put my hand around the rest of his shaft.

"Mm... You love that black cock, don't you?" he whispered as he ran his fingers through my hair. He swore when I ran my tongue on the tip of his cock. I licked along all of it, and started stroking his balls. I held his cock with one hand to lift it so I could kiss his balls all over. I licked them and kissed again, and when I saw the lipstick marks on his balls and the head of his dick, I used the hand that lifted it to start touching my clit. I lifted his cock with my head and kept licking his ballsack. I loved seeing those marks of devotion on his cock and balls. I'm sure he loved me worshiping him and feeling those wet, noisy kisses on his softest skin.

I stopped for a second in which he told me "put on more" and handed me the lipstick bullet. I quickly did with the bedroom's full size mirror and smiled to him.

"Kiss my ass"

I've never felt my pussy as flooded as when I heard him say that. I helped him take off his pants completely and I kissed his ass cheeks and the crack between them, which I licked too. I still had his cock in my left hand (I fingered myself with the right one) and stroked it and his balls, but I focused on getting my face right between those cheeks and planting a huge kiss on his asshole. His deep moans only made me do it again. I saw that beautiful mark of my lipstick on his asshole, and I saw that he made his asshole wink.

"Don't just stare" He said "Give it a french kiss"

As it opened, I was able to get the tip of my tongue inside. I was tasting his anus and, when I went deeper, his rectum. He still touched my head softly and moaned, almost growled. He took his own dick and masturbated as I had my tongue in there and my lips around his asshole. It gave me opportunity to both touch my clit and finger myself as I worshiped his ass. We paused, he didn't put his pants back on.

"Let's go outside." he said "I don't want to make a mess here."

I followed him to the place where I was sitting before he arrived.

"Kneel" was the following thing he said. I did, looking straight at him on the eyes. "Good thing it's a bikini and not your lingerie" He said, holding his cock on his hand. He got closer and revealed my nipple when pulling my bikini top a bit to the side. I looked at him, but felt hot liquid on my left tit and, although I knew, I looked down. His piss was pooling on the padding of my top, and then he did the same on my other side. When he let the fabric hit my tits, it leaked all down my body. The fact that he was doing it outdoors where someone could see made me rub my clit harder. The colors on the flag stamped on my clothes seemed darker, wet with his piss. He wasn't even done.

"Get on your fours" He told me. I got on my knees and hands, but he held me down with his hand too. He pulled down my panties and took some of my wetness from my pussy and put it over my asshole. With that, he got his finger inside of it. He heard me moan. I felt all the action from my ass get pleasure on my clit, and I rubbed it more and moaned louder.

"Ah. God!" I shouted, wondering if someone could hear us, and worse, see us. He stopped after some moments, and I felt the hot piss right on my asshole. Maybe it was the pressure in which it hit it, but it gave me even more pleasure than his finger. I realized I needed to pee too. I stopped rubbing my clit and took my fingers out of my pussy, so deep in it before, to tell him.

"Do it, then" He said, after he stopped peeing on my ass. I separated my legs more and as soon as I started pissing on the grass like an animal, I felt his again, on my back. Every part of my bikini top was dripping wet with his pee, and my bottoms' back side got a bit wet too. I hadn't finished peeing nor had he finished when the last times I touched my clit made it feel so sensitive and overwhelmed with pleasure that I moaned louder and with no real words. He knew I was having an orgasm, and as soon as he finished peeing, stroked his cock once again to get his cum out. My legs and arms were shaking, and I sat on the ground.

"I know you swallow" he said, got his cock in my mouth and gave me his cum. I swallowed it and then laid on the ground. He fell, kneeling, beside me.

After I took a shower and washed my bikini, I hung it on the laundry hooks. I had put on the clothes I wore before, and I went back to the yard. He had waited for me, and was still there.

"Marcus?" I called him. He turned around.

"Hey. Belle..." He was going to ask me a question.

"You ain't gon' tell no one, right?"

"Never" I told him. There was really no reason to. I would be disowned on the spot if my dad ever knew, and I wouldn't betray him. It was gonna be more harsh for him if someone had seen us.

"Now I wanna tell you something." I said to him. It might have been weird for someone else in that position to say the rest after the act, but maybe it was my trashiness and tackiness that made it comfortable.

"Yes?"

"You're my childhood crush."

His eyes slightly closed, and he stared at mine, and at my lips. Then he pressed his against mine, and gave me a closed-mouth kiss. I touched his back as he did, and got my arms around his neck. He touched my waist and hips.

"Why did you leave school?" He said after breaking the kiss. I looked around and hugged him. We were in the back side of the house, so if my dad came over, he wouldn't see him easily. I loved to feel him hug me. His back was against the wall, and I felt comforted by the shadow that the house made on us, like he were a high school couple trying to find a private place in campus to do the stuff we weren't supposed to.

"I just ain't gonna tell you now." I said.

He looked to his left side like he thought of something. "That's fine... Well, I'll walk past here every weekend evenings, since I'm gonna start working and the place is near here."

"Yes, I would love to see you more." I told him, and imagined more either kinky or romantic stuff to do together. Although I sometimes did stuff with my dad on the weekends, but we could deal with it.

"I better go, Belle." He said and kissed my lips quickly once again. "Bye."

"Bye, Marcus." I returned the short kiss.

I later felt bad about not telling him, but it wasn't because I didn't trust him, rather because it was something hard to admit. I still wasn't sure whether he would feel disgusted or just plain bad for me. I could always tell him some Saturday or Sunday evening.