Nike was all of 5' 3" in shoes and nearly 107-lb when wet. She was a petite raven haired beauty that could pass for an American Indian, a Chinese woman or even a Philippine-American, since all the blood-roots ran in her ancestry. But she was borne and raised in Louisiana, and spoke Creole and French. Her English suffered a heavy Cajun accent barely understandable outside of her small community.
She had gone far away from that small town North-East of New Orleans. Her life took on some major changes after the devastating effects of Hurricane Katrina. All that her family had, was lost.
Fortunately, Nike had a gift- she could play tennis. Tamil Arises saw her play at a shelter and took her under his wing. He personally footed the bill to get her registered in the ATPA and as couch accompanied her to Australia for the woman's tour.
In Australia, at the Gold Coast WTA MONDIAL Australian Woman's Hard-courts, she shocked the tennis world by defeating Kim CLIJSTERS in the first round. She shocked herself by her first interracial encounter. She had always fantasized about sex with Black men, but her have her pussy crammed full of that seed and her ass so soundly pounded, she was in nirvana. She knew her parents would freak if they found out she was having sex outside of the family- much more if they found out she had allowed a Black man to seduce her and then later his two sons had taken her as well, multiple times each. No law had been broken, the boys were over 18 and so was she, but none the less, her parents would have strokes.
Nike was superstitious and believed that only by these random sexual encounters, she was able to secure victory over her seasoned opponents. Tamil Arises had told her: "Whatever you did last night, before the game- do it again, that is what you must do to win." and so she did.
The Gold Coast championship was a Tier 2 tournament, which meant after Kim there were only three more matches. Back in the hotel, Nike readied for the next day. Tamil, who was thrilled by her victory over the Belgian, had gone out for bragging rights with some of his old acquaintances from the tour, and to speak to the press about the "Raven Haired Cajun, Nike" who they referred to mistakenly as "NIKA" due to her own pronunciation.
She called her folks and let them know the good news and then went down to work out in the Hotel Gym. There she saw a large blond fellow running on the tread-mill. She took up a position behind him on the weights and began to pump iron. It didn't take him too long to notice her: "Hey Sheila!" he stepped behind her, "I got you love." he said taking up a position at the head of her table, to spot her.
"Thank you." she exhaled pushing up.
"You have a strange accent Sheila, where you be from love?"
"Louisiana." she said getting up off the bench, "May I help you with?" she gestured to the weights.
"Sorry Sheila, there's no way you can spot me. They'd tear your arms off- watch." he took the bar she had and removed the forty kilos she had then doubled up the two hundreds, making it six hundred kilos. He tightened his hernia belt and then took up the lift position on the bench. Nike's eyes grew wide as he hefted the bulk off the bars and lowered the mass to his chest. His thick arms flexed, his chest expanded and his body arched. He hissed and sent the weights up into the air, pressing them near twenty times before trembling, rested the bar into it's cradle.
She thought he seemed strong before, but now, when he released the hernia belt and she could see his rippled muscles, she knew it. "Like Conan." she said not able to control herself, she ran her hands along his arms. She could not touch the fingers together around his biceps.
"You like it don't you?"
"Your arm is bigger than my body!" she said aghast. "You must be a wild fuck."
"What's that Sheila? Care for a drink?" he took her to the bar and ordered two pints.
"It is beautiful here by the sea." Nike offered in conversation.
"Everything is beautiful, I see." he countered.
Nike took one more sip of her frosty lager, before she gestured her eyes with a sparkle. No interpreter was required, he didn't have to pick through the accent. But taking her hand he led her up to his room.
In the elevator, when the doors closed. She went to him, pressing her little petite frame against his bulk. He cradled her in his mighty arms and pulled her close. They kissed. Lager breath and cigarettes. She hadn't noticed that he smoked, but it was too late to be concerned about that. Her body was trembling. She was consumed with the desire to be ravished. Her tongue pressed up into his mouth, and his into hers, searching and sharing. She grappled her arms around his wide back and massive shoulders, reaching up: "Like hugging a mountain!" she said, breaking from the kiss for a moment.
The man picked Nike up like a shirt and tossed her on to his bed. She double bounced, nearly striking her head on the wall. Giggling with anticipation she scooted off her tight work out shorts and slipped her panties off of one leg. It was all she had time to do before he was on top of her, raising her T-shirt and sucking on her sweaty nipples. Her black hair flung across the pillow as she cooed in his embrace. Her nails dug into his back as she lifted off his shirt. His mouth found her small black mound of hairs and her sweet tasting pussy.
"Oh yes!" she gasped, pushing off the wall, cramming her hot box into his mouth.
He lifted her hips off the bed, eating her like a juicy watermelon, her legs twitching on either side of his head, hanging from his large hands. Pussy juice poured out of her. She pinched her nipples, "Oh fuck yes!" she gasped, her body a quiver.
"You ready to be fucked Sheila?"
"Yes!"
"You ready for my love, love?" he gripped her waist with one hand and pinned her down to the bed, pulling off his shorts and underwear with the other. Before she could react, he shoved his manhood up inside her.
Nike gasped, biting her lip, bracing for the pain. None came. She thought that she felt a sensation down there but wasn't sure if he had actually gone inside her or not. It would be embarrassing if he'd missed and perhaps pushed himself between her and the bed or something. She opened her eyes, looking up at him. His face winced, continuing to work his body over her. His muscles flexed, his stomach, ripped like a washboard, pushed against her body and thighs, driving her deep into the bed with every thrust. The mattress squeaked, the springs sprung, and the headboard slapped against the wall. Nike saw his neck veins pulse out from his neck, he put forth that much effort. She wanted to laugh, she really couldn't feel a thing. She wondered if he was in her at all. Is this a joke? she thought.
"Oh baby! Oh Baby! Oh yeah take it baby!" his body slapped against hers.
