Bridget was horny, lonely frustrated and bored. It was May, the weather was perfect and she spent all of her time inside our house, serving a 120-day home detention sentence. I was working long hours on a major project and was rarely home when our four daughters weren't. And she was often asleep when I got home. Our sex was still great when we had it, but sometimes we went days between encounters. During some of my busy stretches in the past, she came and visited me at work for a quickie, but that wasn't an option now. The one thing I liked about her home detention is that it finally forced her to quit smoking after 27 years, since I never allowed her to smoke in the house.
Bridget was the wildest dream of any white man who loves reverse interracial action -- 5'9", 215 lbs. 46DDs that weighed about 20 lbs. each, short hair, a shaved cunt, solid ass and, best of all to me, luscious size 11 soles that were completely colorless, in sharp contrast to her skin, which was as black as coal. And at the age of 41, her insatiable sex drive was as strong as ever. She never got enough.
Bridget was a total sub. I'm equally good as a dom or a sub and enjoy each role equally, but Bridget is completely incapable of domming. Yet on this day, five days after our last sexual encounter, her horniness was so overwhelming that for the first time in her life, she decided to take charge.
In the middle of a meeting, I felt my phone vibrate and glanced at the face, seeing that it was her calling. About a minute later, I got a notice that she had left a voice message, which I assumed was ordinary -- something like asking me to pick up something for her at the grocery store on the way home from work. At the end of the meeting, about 30 minutes later, I sat down at my desk and heard the following message in her husky, slow, sensual, chocolate voice:
"It's your chocolate pudding pie. I was thinking about the fuckstick. Come over and let this chocolate melt all over you."
