This is a work of fiction. It is for entertainment purposes only, and should not be taken seriously by anyone.
Mac heard the rapid banging on his kitchen door and groaned.
It was Sherica, from next door. Their houses were close enough that his back porch was a shorter walk than his front door. Mac wiped the sweat from his forehead and glanced at the thermometer. It was still above 90- in the late afternoon.
He heard the banging on his back door again.
He hadn't even had time to shower yet, for Christ sake.
The A/C was out in his house for some reason. His boss was riding his ass at work, and this goddamn heat was doing nothing to help his mood.
As soon as he got home he'd stripped down to his boxer shorts. He was hot and sticky, and wanted nothing more than to just scrap the day off his skin.
He did not need this shit.
Instead, he got Sherica.
"I know you're in there, Fulton! Open the fucking door!" she shouted, slamming her hand on the door.
Mac could already feel his blood boiling. This was not smart. If he wasn't careful, he might do something he'd regret. He didn't need to get arrested. He took a deep breath and opened it to see the pretty college student standing on his porch.
Sherica was a head shorter than him. Her skin was the lovely shade of coffee ground. She wore her hair natural. She had on a black crop top and black short athletic shorts. The kind of outfit that screams: I'm sexy AND physically active!
She had a great ass, and long muscular legs, Mac recalled hearing that she played soccer at one point. She had a flurry of tattoos on her left forearm, like the popular european footballers do. Her stomach was flat with a piercing in her belly button. A couple times, he had seen her in a two piece swimsuit coming to or from the beach. Her tits were a little small for his taste, but there was no argument. She was a beautiful woman.
The problem was her personality.
"The fuck are you wearing?" She demanded, looking him over.
He heard surprise, not disgust in her voice. Mac knew he was in good shape. He didn't have a six pack or anything like that, but he had worked a lifetime in construction, keeping him lean and giving him a powerful core. He might look rough, on the surface, but no woman had ever seen him naked and been disappointed by his body.
"I was about to shower. What do you want?" He growled, wiping his face again.
Christ, opening the door just made it worse.
"You know what I want," She shot back, crossing her arms. She was good and mad today.
"I want you to stop taking down our sign!"
Not this shit again.
Sherica was convinced Mac was taking down the Black Lives Matter sign she had put up in the front yard of the house she and her boyfriend were renting for the semester.
Mac rolled his eyes.
"I've told you a million fucking times Sherica, I don't give a shit about your fucking sign!"
It was true too. Mac didn't have anything against the BLM/SJW/LGBTQLMNOP people. Live and let live was his policy.
But nothing would convince Sherica. She had given him the stink eye the day she moved in, and things had gone downhill from there.
Mac had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the color of his skin.
"Look," he said, trying to remain calm. "I just worked all day out in the fucking sun. I got no A/C, and my beer ain't cold yet. I don't give a shit about you, or your signs, so can you please just go the fuck away?"
He tried to close the door, but she stopped it with her hand.
"You don't talk to me like that!" She shouted. She was good and angry. "You don't ever talk to me like that! Who do you think you are? Your just a old fucking loser who's wife left him!"
She said more after that, but he didn't hear it. Mac lost his temper.
When she brought up his ex he saw red. It wasn't the first time she had brought her up either. He'd overheard her mutter something to her boyfriend, and he swore if he ever heard anything like that again, he was going to teach her some discipline.
He grabbed Sherica by the wrist and pulled her into the kitchen. It wasn't a drag either. It was a throw, and she landed crumpled on his linoleum floor. He slammed the door shut, and turned to her.
Sure enough, her little black short shorts were riding high enough for him to get a look at the bottom of her ass cheeks. He felt the blood surge in his groin.
How long had it been since he had a woman? Not long, but in the way he was going to have Sherica? Hard and slow? He hadn't had a woman like that in a while.
In his wilder days, Mac had been quite the ladies man. In his experience, if he had enough time with any woman, she would eventually succumb to his charms.
He liked black women the most. Especially the bossy ones, the high class black women, the prototypical angry black woman. They were the most fun. They were so used to control, to taking charge that it was like it was built into their DNA. For Mac, the hottest part of any encounter wasn't making the girl cum. It was the look of surrender in her eyes, the realization that she had let go and willingly submitted to him that got him off.
When he was Sherica's age, he had a stable of black girls spread all over town. Some were single, some were married. Some of them even knew they weren't the only ones. It didn't matter to him. Once he had them, they always came back like a moth to the flame.
Sherica had just pushed him too far. Now he was going back to old habits.
He grabbed her, and dragged her to the little table he had dinners at in his kitchen.
"Wh-what are you doing?" she cried.
He didn't answer. He had power right now. He had control. He had to keep her off balance and start quickly or else she would panic and he might actually hurt her.
He grabbed her shorts from behind and yanked them down. They were the kind that had panties built in, so he was treated to the sight of her bare ass.
She yelped in response, and started to struggle, realizing where they were headed. With one arm, he pinned her to the table.
He felt his mouth go dry. He wanted to slap her ass so badly. He wanted to beat it black and blue and make her beg him to stop. He resisted that urge. He had big hands, and before she could react, he reached between her legs, and found her vagina.
His fingers gently probed her pussy. She wasn't wet yet, so he moved his fingers nice and slow, in and out. In and out.
"Ahh! Stop!! You can't do this to me!"
He smirked. He could feel her wetness starting to build.
"Let me go! I'm gonna scream!"
"Go ahead. In this neighborhood? No one is coming to help."
She was trying to turn, trying to see him. Her eyes were wide. But now it was more fear than anger.
He brushed one of his fingers against her clit, and began working his fingers a little faster. In and out, in and out. He could feel her juices coating his fingers.
"S- S- Stop! Uhhh! Stop! You can't... You can't do this!"
She struggled with all her strength, but he was bigger and stronger than she was. She couldn't even raise herself off the table. The table creaked under their combined weight. He could hear a creeping sound of helplessness in her voice.
"Please... mmm.. Mac stop this.. I won't.. I won't tell anyone.."
"I know."
He circled her clit again. She was dripping now. He could hear, actually hear, how wet she was as he drove his fingers in and out of her pussy.
"Uh. Stop. M-my boyfriend knows I'm here-"
Treshaun was easily one of the biggest wimps he'd ever met. A philosophy doctoral student. He was about as passive as man comes. Whatever she saw in him, it was clear Sherica wasn't dating him for his masculine qualities.
"Tre isn't home. He always goes to the library an hour before you get back from the gym, just after I get home from work. And he stays there for at least four hours every night. Besides, you're gonna forget alllll about him, baby. I'm gonna give you something he never has."
His fingers were starting to have an effect. Her legs weren't clamped as hard as before. Her breath was growing ragged.
"Why does this feel..."
She trailed off. His fingers were slick. He could feel her subtly trying to meet him.
In and out. In and out.
"Your gonna cum, girl?"
Sherica shivered, and whimpered.
"Are you about to cum?" He demanded.
He could hear the humiliation in her voice. "Please... don't..."
