I awoke Saturday morning relieved and disappointed at the same time. Neither Marcus nor Ty had come by after the thug dropped me off, and he hadn't come back either. The empty feeling in my nether region was joined by that now familiar warming feeling. The warmth coursing through my womb confirmed what I already knew deep down.
I am pregnant.
Whatever day it was in this crazy week, taking so much cum inside me undoubtedly knocked me up. I got up and tried not to think about it. I pulled on a pair of panties and a t-shirt before going downstairs to make some coffee. But the caramel-colored coffee slowly filling the pot reminded me again, and I couldn't help but think, "
That'll be the color of my baby...
"
I thought about all that had occurred over the last week but could not come up with a reason why I did it. I spent four days with a hideous looking man knowing I was fertile. The worst part of the week was when he gave me the opportunity to leave
,
and I refused to go I stayed
,
letting him spew his African essence into my unprotected Caucasian womb.
I spent the morning cleaning the house. The idea of being pregnant with a black baby flitted in the back of my mind, refusing to go away. By the time one o'clock rolled around the idea of what I had done had consumed all my thoughts. My panties were drenched, and I was panting. I decided to soak in the tub and relax.
The water slowly filled the tub as I dropped my shirt and peeled my panties off. The thug rushed back into my head as I viewed the dark purple marks he had left on my body, My breasts neck and pussy mound. I was his. My pussy drooled as I caressed his marks gently. I knew I could not deny him my body, or anything he wanted to give it.
An electric sensation ran up my spine when I remembered: He sold me. He made me into an actual whore yesterday. A black man's whore. My pussy juice coated my thighs as my excitement grew.
I put the thought out of my mind climbing into the tub. The water jets relaxed and comforted me, putting that dirty thought out of my mind for a time. After a few minutes I started to wash, trying to think of a way out of my worsening situation while I bathed. But instead of calming down I became more excited, caressing my body more than washing it.
"
How did one unwanted sexual experience consumed me like this?"
I sought him out after he'd raped me. I gave myself to him willingly, eagerly. I let him pump his dark seed into my pale body. His potent words echoed in my mind, "
Breeding sex will increase your pleasure."
While shaving the stubble from my legs the jets hit my clit, and I arched back.
"Oh God!" I gasped, "It had!"
My realization had me so excited I spread my legs further for the jets, and moments later I was exploding in orgasm, "Oh my
GOD, Yesssss!
" I wailed, my toes curling as I gushed into the warm water.
I began gasping for air, my orgasm consuming my will to breathe. When I had recovered I had to shave my pubic stubble carefully despite a shaking hand.
My urges increased my need to do as he wanted. My pussy grew hotter remembering when the thug ejaculated his African
seed
into me. It was an incredible feeling, his semen causing a burn within my fertile belly that thrilled me. I clenched my thighs tightly thinking about how well the thug's dark cock felt inside me, so much better than my husband's.
My pussy grasped him as if it was made to wrap around his cock. I had no doubt that I would do anything he said just to have him inside me again. I would divorce my husband. I would have his babies. I would let him sell my body to other black men.
I had a fleeting thought of how devastated my husband would be, discovering his faithful wife was really a whore for black cock all along. I felt no guilt.
I decided to try and take a nap, knowing tonight would be a long night. I crawled into bed completely naked, and my last thought before drifting off circled around all those little dark swimmers racing to be the one to fertilize my lily-white egg.
My dreams swirled with pictures of a large black phallus fucking into me, and blasting its midnight sperm into my Caucasian womb. My egg waited patiently to be conquered by the black horde swarming around it. I pictured the egg being fertilized, an African seed sneaking past its lax defenses. I watched its pearly surface darken like a cloud and slowly begin to grow. I saw it filling my belly with the African baby that would put an end to my pure white lineage.
I woke up well rested. Rubbing my belly I looked across the room into the full length mirrors. A smile crept across my face seeing myself sitting in my sheets, my porcelain belly bared and flat -- for now. My abdomen warmed to bake the bun I no doubt had in my oven.
My fingers trailed down to rub my little pink pearl. My blue eyes clouded as I pictured my belly months from now, swollen with the thug's charcoal-skinned baby. My hips hunched up to my diving fingers as I came and wailed, "God! I'm going to have a black man's baby!!
"
I rolled over to see that it was six thirty already. I had to get ready. I got up and rummaged through my lingerie, picking out a half-cup bra that pushed my boobs up and closer together, accentuating my cleavage. Next a garter belt brought attention to my sex, framing my soft brunette landing strip and deep purple hickey. At my make up table I chose a candy-apple red lip stick and matching nail polish. I topped off my outfit with fish net stockings and five inch stilettos.
When I was done I paraded myself in front of the mirrors. Checking myself over from every angle then, I had not realized my outfit was pure white. I looked like a virgin on her wedding night.
But I certainly wasn't a virgin. My walk was like a seasoned hooker. Every move I made swayed my ass and shivered my tits just so to draw everyone's eyes to my sexy body.
I looked through my closet for a dress. I did not find one that fit the situation I was going to be in, never having thought I would be sold as a black man's whore I had always bought conservatively. A garment bag caught my eye, hanging in the corner by itself. I did not remember it at all, and opening the bag I found three tight and smooth cocktail dresses I had not worn in ages.
Only one could work: A plum-colored purple with a satiny look and feel buttoned up the front with a low neck line. I pulled it on and felt it hug my round ass snuggly even before I buttoned it. The hem line came only about mid-thigh just over the tops of my stockings.
I buttoned it all the way up, and I looked like a class act. Prim and pristine -- but it wasn't right. Remembering how the thug wanted me to look, I un-did all the buttons except the one at my belly button. I walked around checking myself. The dress opened as I moved, exposing my lingerie just enough to catch any man's attention. I figured the thug would like the look so I went downstairs to wait.
I sat by my front window as the darkness enveloped the night sky. After awhile I started to worry that the thug had forgotten about me. I could only wonder where he was, and why he was taking so long.
It was near eight o'clock by the time he finally showed up. He walked in like he owned the place, waiting with arms crossed as I walked across the living room to the kitchen where he stood
.
"Whitebread
,
ya look jus' like the ho I knows ya was."
"Thought you might like it," I said. Every step I took caused my dress to expose my womanhood, "And the man you sold me to..."
"Lucky nigga," He growled leering over my body, "Shoulda got more fer yer ho ass, whitebread."
"Thanks," I took that as a compliment and stroked down my sides, "You know my body belongs to you."
He chuckled, "Damn straight ho
.
Nows get yo white ass in the car
.
"
I strutted to the car
