Virginia State Senator Stanley Garner thought he would surprise his young wife, Stacy, with a visit. His work in Richmond kept him away from home for days, sometimes weeks.
The trim, athletic thirty-five year old had worked late into the night on a legislative session and had driven all morning to arrive as his estate. He was sporting a semi-erection in anticipation of catching his bride of three years still in bed.
But Jezelle, his eighteen-year-old black maid, told him that his darling wife had already left for the riding stables where she boarded her horse.
Stanley cursed his back luck and poured himself a shot of whiskey. Puffing on a cigar in his study he toyed with the idea of driving out to the stables and surprising Stacy there, but decided against it. He did not like horses and he would run the risk of running into some of his constituents who would bore him with their tales of woe and demands for new laws, or demands for the repeal of laws, or some such rot. And he was tired.
He went into the kitchen to tell Jezelle that she was going to take a nap and that he should not be disturbed when he found the little black girl bent over, loading the dishwasher. Her firm full rump was stretching the material of her maid uniform provocatively. He grinned and silently watched her buns moving under her dress as the girl hummed some tune. He felt a familiar hunger rise in his loins and his cock began to stir in his boxers.
Skillfully, he ran his hand under the hem of her short skirt and cupped her vulva, nearly lifting the teenager off the floor.
Jezelle squealed in alarm and jumped away from him, pulling her skirt and apron down on her slim, ebony legs.
"Please, Senator Garner!" she exclaimed in panic.
"Just funnin' with ya, Jezelle. No harm in that," he laughed heartedly.
He studied the young maid. She certainly had filled out the last year. Her long, pointed tits strained against the black material of her uniform; her full, plump nipples clearly tenting on the tips of her breasts. She looked like she had those banana tits he recalled seeing in issues of the National Geographic whenever they had an article on African natives. Probably a thick black bush to boot. He licked his lips at the idea.
Jezelle hung her head in embarrassment and shame, as if she had somehow provoked the Senator's actions.
"I just wanted to tell you that I am going to take a nap until Stacy returns from her ride. I don't wish to be disturbed—unless you'd like to disturb me more than you already have, Jezelle."
Jezelle just nodded solemnly.
Stripping off his business suit in the master bedroom Garner thought back to his early years. It had always been a tradition in the Garner family for every young Garner male to lose his virginity to a black girl, first slaves, later maids. In fact, Stanley Garner had lost his virginity to Jezelle's own mother, Lola, when he was still a teenager. Lola had only been a year older than he at the time, and very much looked as Jezelle did today. Large, expressive, dark and mysterious eyes, full sensuous lips, a short afro hairdo, wide hips and pointed boobs. Lola had these most remarkable areolas—they projected out in semispherical protuberances and topped with fat nipples as wide as his thumb.
Lola had been an enthusiastic teacher for the lad, so much so that his father had been forced to forbid Stanley from fucking the girl again. Once or twice was acceptable—not once or twice a day for months. Oh, how Lola had cried when Stanley had told her that he could not screw her any more. Poor Lola—she had died three years ago in a traffic accident and had been buried in the old slave cemetery on the estate.
His recollection of Lola has spiked his interest in Jezelle again. Stanley knew his wife would be riding until at least noon, so he had plenty of time. Leaning over in the bed and hit his intercom.
"Jezelle, please come up to the master bedroom a moment," he said.
Within a minute the diminutive black girl cautiously rapt on the door.
"Come in, Jezelle," he commanded.
She entered the room with her chin on her chest. "Yes'm, Senator?"
"Please close the curtains. It's too bright in here to sleep."
Dutifully, Jezelle yanked the chords that drew the heavy curtains to a close, plunging the room into near blackness.
"Will that be all, Senator?" she asked meekly.
"No, that will not be all, Jezelle. Come closer, let me look at you."
With tiny steps she neared his bed. "Closer," he ordered.
In the half light from his partially opened bedroom door he studied the young woman.
"You know, your mother and I were great friends, back before you were born."
"Yes'm, she done told me."
"Did she now," he mused, wondering what exactly Jezelle had been told. He decided to take a different approach.
"You've grown to be a fine young lady. Tell me, are you seeing anyone romantically?"
Jezelle began twisting slightly, her hands locked under her firm buttocks. "I been seeing dis boy, but he done joined de army and he be gone now."
"How nice. Were you two...intimate?"
"Intimate? What yo' mean, suh?"
"I mean, did you and he... sleep together? Were you sexual with each other?"
"Oh, Senator! Don't make me talk 'bout such things!"
"It's okay, girl. We are like family here. I am sort of like your father, whoever he was. I don't even think your mama knew who he was, or which one he was. Here, take this. It will relax you."
Stanley grabbed a crystal decanter on is bedside table and poured a generous portion of whisky into a glass and extended it to the girl.
"I don' drink no hard stuff, suh," Jezelle protested.
"Come now, drink up. It will do you some good," he said with a smile. "Drink it now," he added, much more sternly.
Jezelle sipped the amber liquid. She immediately went cross-eyed and began frantically fanning her open mouth with one hand. Stanley chuckled and poured himself a drink. He held it up as a toast, saying, "Here's to our happy little family!"
Jezelle felt obliged to meet his toast and she drank more of the fiery liquid, feeling it smolder in her stomach.
He lifted his glass again. "And here's to good friends!" This time, when Jezelle took a drink he lifted the bottom of her glass, pouring more of the whisky down the girl's throat. She sputtered and coughed, whisky spilling onto her chest.
Miles away, in a secluded meadow, Senator Garners proper wife Stacy was bucking on Rufus' hips as he lay on his blanket. Her head whipped from side to side and she grunted loudly at the feeling of his tall, hard cock buried deep within her belly. His broad calloused hands fondled her trim titties and pinched her hard nipples. Stacy was grinding her hips down on him, twisting her ass from side to side.
As she had hoped sex with Rufus was becoming easier, and certainly more pleasurable. Her vagina now fit his broad organ like a snug, tailor-made glove. Her cooze had been conditioned to release more lubricating juices and to accept the huge intruder. She was in a frenzy of uncontrolled lust and animalistic cravings.
Rufus lifted his narrow hips off the blanket to meet her bobbing, sending thrills shooting through her svelte body.
"Here it come, mama!" he hissed between his clenched, bared teeth.
"Fill me up, daddy! Fill my hot cunt with your negro cum! Fill my slutty pussy!" she screamed.
Afterwards she lay spent, resting her head on his broad chest, her hand lazily twiddling his now-floppy cock. "Did I go okay, Rufus?" she grinned.
"Oh yes. You always do great, Missus Garner."
Her brows knitted, she regarded his satisfied face. "Why do you call me that? Why don't you call me Stacy?"
