Interracial - Big Black Cocks turn wife into whore at club
[White wife seduced by co-workers and turned into a Molly whore]
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Author's notes: Warning! This is an interracial story, where the husband is cuckolded by his black co-workers. There is incest between a mature brother and his mature sister. If you need to give a lecture about faithfulness or STDs, give it to your own wife. This hopefully will be hot enough for the people who like these themes, as it does have a lot of sex in it. For those who don't like these themes please move along. Constructive comments are appreciated, hate speech will be deleted.]
[Unless you like young hung black men turning hard working husband's wives into drugged out cock addicted whores you might want to read something else on Literotica.]
Robert works for the city. He works hard for the city. He works hard for the money they pay him, and he is always on call. One of the slightly balding, slightly pudgy people with more authority than he ever uses, he tries to keep the aging infrastructure of his medium sized city from falling apart. He fails almost every day, in some way or another, but is heroic in that he tries, and gets everyone else to try too. Some days he does not know why he still even tries. Then he sees her.
Clara's dark hair frames her face in ringlets that are one nicely done hairstyle away from showing how pretty she is, just like her conservative wardrobe doesn't show off her body. She could easily be an eight with the right stylist, but is routinely estimated as a six by most of Robert's co-workers, because she is a little on the thick side. Her one concession to Robert's incessant prattling on about how hot she could really be if she only tried, stares back at her in the mirror. A leather, front zipper dress cut so low even fully zipped up it barely covers her nipples. Her full caboose basically pops out the rear, half her ass cheeks on display even when she isn't moving. Yet playing with the zipper, she discovers she can pull the zipper to the bottom of her D cups, and the nipples still don't pop out when she does the milk shake, yet showing off her cavernous cleavage.
Besides, the idea is to get the men hot for her without giving away the whole candy store, and this little secret means she can dance freely without worry of being too naughty. Her girlfriend Delilah puts on her makeup for her, a smoky hot cat's eye that when framed by the blood red glossy lipstick makes her look like a streetwalker. But Delilah says she is a walking wet dream for black men, especially with her four inch fuck me pumps. Clara decides she can always wipe off the 'red dick sucking whore-slut' lipstick for something less 'out there' later.
"Good Gawd, there is no possible way I'm going to let you out of the house looking like that! You have to stay here to be ravished by me alone!" Robert chortles with joy seeing his wife in a way he never thought he could.
"Oh Bobby, you're an idiot! You know how hot it makes you to see other men's hands all over her! Imagine Marco, Bones, and Chris dancing with her tonight. She will be so wet you won't need any of that lube from the nightstand. Don't tell me you don't crave that, the pup tent in your pants gives you away. I half think you'd rather Clara went home with the three of them than come home with you." Delilah chuckles.
Robert grabs his phone and turns away, as he spurts into his underwear. "It's the office. I'll take it in the den." The few last spurts of his climax stain his pants, as he makes it to the den, talking gibberish along the way. Downside, he had to get a change of pants from the garage. Upside, he now had a very hot fantasy to stroke off to later, some other day, or even later tonight. Because as hot as Clara looks tonight, he has plans involving her all turned on from dancing with three young studs who put their hands all over her then letting that passion loose in their marital bed.
Delilah probes Clara about Robert, "Why doesn't he dance? He can't possibly be THAT bad."
"Ever since college when he sprained his ankle and I had to dance with all the jocks it has been our way. He isn't a bad dancer, he just prefers me to enjoy other men, get all turned on, dripping wet, then return to feast on him until there is nothing but bones left, no meat at all." Clara chuckles.
"So you are getting some tonight." Delilah chuckles.
"Not even an act of God could stop me from getting some tonight!" Clara laughs.
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Marco is the oldest, the tallest, and the leanest. Built like many other black basketball players, despite his innate intelligence, he had trouble in school. That trouble usually involved poon, because Marco was a poon hound's poon hound. It was said even by his closest friends if you left your wife or girlfriend around Marco overnight, she'd be in his bed before morning. Basketball taught him the full court press, and he adapted the principles adroitly to removing panties and filling the voids thus revealed. A receding hairline with closely cropped hair, glasses, and a goatee softened the hard lines of his face, making him manly but approachable. He lives by a code, to do no wrong to his posse, but he didn't see women as anyone's property but his own.
This even applied to his own sister Molly, built thick. Her DD jugs have dark black coffee cup size nipple disks, her curly hair a tangle that almost reaches them. Her dark thatch of pussy fur is closely trimmed, but still thick. She is soft like an overstuffed chair on the outside, street hardened now from years in the Ho game. Marco applied his code to her when she made it to college, and after she lost her virginity, he moved in on her like the whole team on a fast break. She became his Unicorn, converter of the women who didn't see things his way into women who saw things their way. Marco's way is to turn women into ATM's dispensing money into his accounts, and Molly is his credit card to reach them. New deposits daily.
Bones is the hard core gang banger just out of prison and still on probation for dealing drugs, with the bulked up physique from daily prison weightlifting to prove it. A cross and a Jewish tablet around his neck on gold chains remind him that by whatever name you call God, she does not answer. Only a few inches shorter than Marco, they are often mistaken for brothers, although Bones beard and goatee is much heavier and darker, just like his coal black skin.
Bones calls himself "a nigger's nigger", since he sees himself the as the distilled black essence. Bones given name is Jacob, but no one ever calls him that, since the last ten years of his life has been completely dominated by his relationship to the gang he serves. He funnels the drugs they use to convert their whores into property of the posse, and funnels the end product - new whores - back onto the street. The best become escorts doing outcalls, the worst (or the burnouts) turning tricks in alleys as streetwalkers. His cock is almost as long as Marco's, but much thicker. He calls it 'the God stick', since many a woman on Molly has claimed to see God while riding it.
Bones body is covered with prison tattoos, all black ink on black skin, so most people don't even know he has them. For all his hard core gangster persona means to him, he only shows it when he needs to, he gets far more out of the world by living 'the cover story', that he is a nice guy who made a mistake and is trying to straighten up his life. The Equal Opportunity Program run by the city is how he met Robert and Marco, they are both technically his bosses in the Department of Public Works (DPW), where they do administrative work.
Chris is the pipsqueak who can't fend for himself, so he became a jokester to lighten up tense situations. That doesn't always work, so he stays close to friends like Marco and Bones who come with their own zone of protection. His lighter skin shows off his tats, and he has as many of them as Bones, even on his face. He wears a Mohawk hairstyle, and the light pants (which Marco calls 'harem pants' to tease him) which show he is, although almost a foot shorter in height, every bit as well endowed as Bones. The most recent hire at Public Works, he is the rookie in every respect. So he rarely makes a move without checking with Bones, Marco, or both of them. Robert is their boss, but acts more like a coach.
Chris is looking forward to meeting Clara, the black women at work call her the 'undercover black MILF', with plenty of booty in just the right proportions to be several rungs above Robert's pay grade. It puzzles Chris why Marco and Bones have never met her, until he considers exactly how long a hot piece of poon like that would last on the floor between the two junkyard dogs he works with. Clara is most likely going to get turned out tonight, and Chris is eager to get some of the 'undercover black MILF' Poon and Booty.
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Marco and Bones meet Molly for burgers after work, while Chris had to run home to take care of his cat. "I can't imagine what they hell he thinks he is doing," Molly says tongue in cheek, "Chris don't know the first thing about taking care of pussy!"
After the laughter dies down, Bones comes to Chris' defense. "Perhaps you ought to teach the boy. I've had several girlfriends tell me nobody takes care of pussy better than you."
"Damn straight Bo! And the three of us are like a come to Jesus moment for those molly'ed up Hos. We teach 'em what to do, and they get to do it from sunset to 3am. We could use the little feller to teach 'em not to leak, how to be airtight all night. Sounds a lot like heaven to me." Molly chuckles.
"Molly, stop thinkin' with your nappy dugout an get your ass to the pickup, then to the club and order us a pitcher of vodka. We need the Molly MILF Muff Mix if we are going to get us a conversion tonight. Pick out our booth and three candidate ho's in case Clara isn't the be all and end all the grapevine says." Marco commands sternly.
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Delilah is the Italian Jewish Jane Seymour to Clara's whitebred June Summers. Wearing a vacuum tight green knit dress scooped down to the top of her nipples, and cut with the hem right at the furry lips of her coochie, she's Clara's wingwoman and determined to look out for her tonight. She knows Robert's cuckold tendencies combined with the 'competition to put out' club they are going to tonight will put Clara right at the knife edge of doing things she will probably regret later and/or not doing them while tremendously disappointing her husband. Couple that with Robert's chances of having to leave to deal with a crisis as the city falls apart before their eyes, and Delilah is at Poon Central Defcon 2.
Normally she would just ride with Clara and Robert, but her spidey-sense is tingling, she has a premonition, and she had a bad hair day. With hair that goes all the way down to her ass, that leaves her trying to comb it out without pulling it out, which never puts her in a good mood. So she takes her own car, but accepts Robert's offer to pay for her parking. Besides, having left her own bra and panties behind, just like Clara, she was guaranteed to at least get felt up and diddled by some hot guys, which puts a smile on her face.
Molly slides her dark blue Prius V into one of the choice parking spots at Club Nocturne, which is only available because she is so early. The pickup of the glassine envelope of "Molly's Muff Munching Mix" went off without a hitch or even the hint of a narco unit tail. She slides into their favorite booth that has a view of the dance floor and a view of the front door, with easy access to the restrooms most people didn't know about.