Another black stud and white wife story. They are free, so don't expect a literary masterpiece.
*
My name is Paul, and I have worked at GMAF for about five years. I am 28, and have worked my ass off trying to get ahead. There is an opening for a junior vice-president, and I intend to have it. There are others in line for the same position, but I believe that I am the most qualified. If not as qualified, at least, more determined. I earn a very good wage, but since I was married a year ago, we could certainly use the extra money. A fourteen hundred dollar a month mortgage, and two car payments, takes a big bite out of the paycheck.
My wife, Holly, is presently unemployed. She is 24, 5' 3", 34-24-36. She is not a movie star, nor the most beautiful woman in the world, but she is very pretty, with a wholesome innocence about her. Have you ever heard of a 23-year-old virgin today? Well, Holly was. She comes from a very religious family, and is a devout Catholic. We had plans to start a family, until she was laid off from her PR job. We already have a baby room furnished and decorated. There's an opening in our mailroom, and I am trying to pull strings to get her hired here. It doesn't pay as much as she was used to, but still pays a good salary.
My immediate supervisor is Mr. Beal. That is what he demands everyone in his section call him. He is a large black male about 35. When he interviewed me five years ago, he said, "You will call me Mister Beal, and nothing but, Mister Beal." I have been intimidated by him ever since. We get along pretty well, but never anything personal is discussed. He seems to have gotten a little more friendly in the last year, or so. I don't think it is safe to have him as anything more than an impersonal supervisor. I have watched during the last five years and it seems as if he gets on friendly terms with someone, and less than a year later, they disappear. I have heard they always move to better jobs, but I still don't trust him. The first to leave was the man that took me under his wing, when I first started. He was a happy, well-adjusted man and never had a trouble in the world. Within a couple of months, after Mister Beal began being his bosom buddy, he became quiet, morose, and seemed to be in a world all his own. About eight months later, I came to work and his desk was empty. Mister Beal said he had taken a position with another company. The same circumstances have surrounded the friendship of four other friends of mine. It has been a couple of months since the last of "Mister Beal's" friends has left for bigger and better things.
"Hey, Paul, how's married life? You starting a family yet?" As Mister Beal was saying this, he was sitting down on the corner of my desk.
I was so surprised that all I could do is stammer, "Married life is wonderful, but we haven't tried for a family." Mister Beal made himself comfortable and seemed to be there to stay for a while.
"Is this her picture?" he said, looking at a 4 x 5 framed photo on my desk. It was the only picture I had of her in a swimming suit. "Seems to me, she has the wide hips of a very fertile woman. My mother always said you could tell a baby-making woman, by looking at her hips. I don't mean anything derogatory, by saying she has wide hips. I think they are beautiful. You have a very good-looking wife, and should be proud of her. Have you ever noticed black women? They all have large hips. That's why there are so many black babies. A black man is forever looking at a woman's ass. Well, so much for a history of black women's asses. If you need anything, let me know. You seem to be after that vice-presidents job. I'm pretty tight with old man Richardson. Want me to put in a word for you?"
I didn't know if I should be pissed, or had been complimented. "No, don't say anything to the old man. I will do this on my own. There is one little thing you might help me with. Holly has been unemployed for a couple of months. There is an opening in the mailroom. Who is the best person I can find to put in a good word for her? She really could use the job."
"I don't have anymore time to discuss it right now. Why don't you drop over to my house about 7 this evening? I live alone, and we can make a night out of it. Your little wife wouldn't mind if you stayed out one night, would she? We will discuss the mail room opening, and maybe, I can come up with suggestions to help you in your promotion," Mister Beal said, smiling.
"No, I'm sure she wouldn't mind. She is always telling me I don't have to stay home every minute." I told him. As he left, I kept trying to figure out what he wanted. There was something behind this conversation, but, for the life of me, I didn't know what. Am I his next ' friend ' that leaves mysteriously? Maybe, there's nothing to it. There's a chance that he really will help, and Holly desperately wants a job. She's going crazy cooped up in that house every day, not to mention the money we are losing.
Holly was elated to hear that I was going over to Mister Beal's. She had never met him and knew nothing of his condescending attitude toward the employees in his department. I never discussed my dislike or mistrust of the man. I was still apprehensive of meeting him at his own home, but Holly needed that job, and it was just possible that he could help me with the old man.
I was ringing the bell at promptly 7pm. Mister Beal opened the door, and I was surprised to see him wearing a pair of shorts, and nothing else. He was displaying his muscular chest, and when I glanced down, there was a huge mound between his legs. I looked back into his eyes, but not before he had seen my eyes on his crotch.
There was a grin on his face, as he invited me in. "Come in! Come in! Right on time. I like a man that is punctual. Let's go out on the terrace, and tip a few cold ones. We can relax and get to know each other. You can tell me what I can do to help your pretty young wife."
After a half dozen cold beers, I was more relaxed. Especially, after Mister Beal told me in the privacy of his home to call him Jim or James. I was so surprised that I almost fell out of my chair!
"Well Paul, I think I can assure you that your wife will get that opening in the mailroom. Have her come tomorrow morning, and ask for Mrs. Maynard. Mrs. Maynard owes me a favor, and will be glad to do one for me. I believe that you would be better off working on the old man yourself. You are already the forerunner, and as determined as you are, you have a good chance without my help. Now, let's go inside and watch some home movies I have. Oh, by the way, these movies are pretty raunchy. You don't mind, do you?"
"No, I don't mind. I haven't seen a dirty movie in quite awhile. Holly doesn't like that kind of thing." I replied. "She is very religious and was a virgin when we married. She is very conservative and would never watch anything like that." My God, I can't believe I just told him that! It must be the alcohol. I'm not used to drinking. I haven't had a drink since I met Holly.
We went into the den, and he brought out a bottle of chilled brandy, with two glasses. He had a large screen television, and the DVD was already loaded. I was handed another glass, as he started the movie. It was an interracial fuck film, and starred a black male, with a white man and woman. It started out with the white man sucking the biggest black cock I had ever seen. The black man was eating the white woman. His tongue was as long as my dick. Jim filled my glass again, and I could see the bulge in his shorts had grown much larger, if that was possible. I had a raging six-inch hard on.
Jim said, " why don't you take your cock out and touch it while we enjoy the movie. I'm going to pull off my shorts, and do the same."
He had his back to me, when he pulled down his shorts. I dropped my pants and freed my hard dick. I sat back down and began stroking my cock. Then, he turned around, and I saw the monster between his legs. MY God! I couldn't believe that a dick could be that big! It was twice as long as mine, and much bigger around. He sat down next to me, and began stroking his massive shaft.
