âŠMy Initial Transgression Further Continued
The Weekend
Saturday
I sensed a lot more light in the room then there had been when I had fallen asleepâbut I didnât have to open my eyes to know where it came from; it would be morning sunlight streaming through the row of narrow windows near the vaulted ceiling of the bedroom. I hadnât worried about covering them, since it would take a very tall, extendable ladder for anyone to be able to see into the bedroom from outside, and being so high above the head of the bed, anyone foolish enough to be out on that ladder in the middle of the nightâattempting to peek into my bedroomâwould have only been able to glimpse the foot of the bed at best. And that portion of my recent debauchery bed would have been cast in shadow, anyway.
I opened my eyes and verified the fact that the sun was, indeed, up by the white textured ceiling of the bedroom being bathed in the sharp brilliance of the sunâs warm light. As far as sensations go, while a glorious event, I grant you, this one was still a fairly mundane occurrence. However, the particular scent I became very much aware of with my first conscious breathâeven though it was a newly acquired scentâwas now just as firmly ingrained in my mind as witnessing the sun rising in the east every morning.
I slid my eyes to the right and there it was; the source of the scent that breathed more life into me then the morning sun ever had. It was the unmistakable acrid muskiness of young black male genitals. The black cock beside my face didnât look quite as it had the last time I had seen it; then it had been only semi-erect. I had fallen asleep on Darnellâs shoulder, but had awoken sometime in the wee hours of the morning and the stirring sight of Darnellâs dark crotch bathed in silver moonlight being reflected off the white ceiling had drawn me like magnet. I had slid down, taken it in my mouth, and had been sucking softly, with Darnell barely stirring. And I knew Darnell hadnât cum, becauseâsad to sayâI had fallen back to sleepâwith his thickening cock in my mouth like a big black pacifierâbefore I could suck him off enough to nut in my mouth.
But now was an entirely different situation. Darnellâs erection was a raging black hardon, jutting up at an acute angle from his groin⊠like a black guided missile, complete with its angry purple warhead, ready to blast off toward the enemy. So, now would be the perfect time to see how much muscle memory my esophagus had retained from the previous nightâs endeavors on behalf of this fine black cock.
I rose up on my elbow, kissed the peeslit, then took the satin smooth crown of his cock into my mouth. âGood Lordâ I thought as I began to go down on that cock; it felt somehow harder in my mouth this morning, much harder than it had felt all of the night before. I took another couple of inches of his cock into my mouth, and with the head entering my reflexively relaxed esophagus, I wondered why this was.
Then I felt Darnellâs hand on the back of my head. âLike my piss-hard, Diane?â
I couldnât turn my head; if I did, I would loose his cock from my mouth and I wasnât about to do that. So, I scooted around on the bed until I was between his legs and could see his face. I rose up and reluctantly loosed my oral hold on his cock to ask, âYour what?â
âMy piss hardon,â he chuckled. âGuys wake up with a piss-hard, Mrs. C. Happens cause weâre young and naturally hard all the time, but also cause we always gotta piss first thing in the morning.â
Well, that answered my earlier musing; Darnellâs cock being hard was the result of him having to pee. âHow long can you hold off peeing?â
âNot long.â
âWell, give me some warning before you do,â I said and swallowed his entire cock. I sucked up and down furiously. I wanted see if could make him blow me a morning load of cum before he couldnât hold back his pee any longer.
I lost as a strong stream of hot piss flooded my mouth. I quickly clenched my hand around his cock, with my thumb pressed tight against the large vein underneath, cutting off the flow of pee, and yanked my mouth off his cock. I was fuming, but with my lips pressed tight together and my cheeks bulging out from the mouth full of Darnellâs piss, I couldnât read him the enraged riot act that was building inside me. I scrambled off the bed and raced for the bathroom.
Darnell was right behind me as I opened my mouth and spewed his salty piss into the toilet bowl. âIâm real sorry, Mrs. C,â he said remorsefully as he moved in and flipped up the seat. He forced his hard black cock down and pissed. âI tried to hold it long as I could, but the way you was suckinââŠâ
Hearing the honest apology in his voice, my anger dissipated. Darnell hadnât meant to pee in my mouth. It had just⊠happened⊠partially because of my sucking. âHere, â I said, wrapping my hand around his, âlet me hold it for you, Darnell.â My aim was getting better and I played the strong stream of pee around the bowl, unaware that I was unconsciously licking the droplets of salty urine from my lips.
But Dâbone caught me doing it. âLike the taste of piss, slut?â
I realized what I was doing and ceased immediately. Then, after a long soul-searching moment, I shrugged my shoulders and smiled sheepishly. âIt isnât exactly expensive brandy, nor is it your delicious cum, butâŠâ
Dâbone turned so his cock was aimed right at me. âThen, âstead of shakinâ the dewdrops off my cock, why donât you get down on your knees and clean the bore of this black pipe like a real freak slut would?â
It had been a statement, not a question. And it might be going too far, but I wanted to prove conclusively to Dâbone that I was far more of a slut than Julie could ever hope to become⊠badly. I got down on my knees and took the head of his cock into my mouth and sucked. I expected a few salty dribbles, maybe, but Dâbone had evidently held back just a little, because a spurt of hot piss filled my mouth. I kept my lips tight around his cock so none would leak out and bravely continued to suck. I received a few more salty dribbles for my efforts, then nothing more.
Dâbone pulled his wet cock from my mouth. There was a detectable softness in his eyes and in his voice when he said, âYou can spit that in the bowl, if you want, Mrs. C.â
I seriously considered doing just that, but then I contemplated the opposing degenerate alternative for a long second or two. I had already swallowed Darnell/Dâboneâs syrupy cum several times already, and was ready to freely admit that I was now helplessly addicted to the salty/sweet jism. So, why not his hot, salty piss, too? Both bodily fluids spewed from his hard black cock and I fully intended to have as much of its hard black length in my mouthâand as often as possibleâover the next two days. So, why the fuck not?
Because it was simply too disgusting, thatâs why. I had already stepped well outside the limits of acceptable society by having an adulterous unbridled sexual affair with a black guy, and I wasnât the least bit sorry, nor did I feel any guilt for doing it. But, damnit, I needed to preserve some of my self-dignity, right? With my stomach roiling from the unaccustomed, and unnatural, infusion of the urine that had already trickled down my throat, I leaned over and spewed the mouthful of piss into the bowl. I smiled bravely, as much to myself as at Dâbone. âDoes holding it in my mouth, for over a full minute, still qualify me as being a really nasty white slut?â
âIn royal fucking spades, Mrs. C,â Dâbone laughed. âNot even nasty-slut Julieâs done that⊠for any of us.â
I grinned. I had surpassed a little white slut less than half my age, who was far prettier than me, with a much better figure, and clearly far more experience servicing black cocks. âNot bad for a homely olâ broad,â I proudly thought to myself. Not too fucking bad at all!
As I soaped Darnellâs strong black body in the shower, I unabashedly revealed my X-rated Shakespearian scenario from the night before to him. He laughed and said that it was a scene the Bard definitely should have inserted into the boring play. It would have really spiced things up.
Darnellâs cock was thickening very nicely in my soapy hand and the hungry look that came into his dark eyes told me that he wanted my naughty sex scene to be fully realized. I was, naturally, in full agreement this impromptu sexual rewrite. I slid my uninspiring white body down the length of Darnellâs lathe black bodyâthe both of us all sudsy and slippery with my rose-scented soapâand knelt before him. I cupped his balls in one hand and thoroughly rinsed off his hard cock. The rich flavor of black cock and the addictive taste of the slimy jism that erupts from one I cannot deny liking⊠a lot; the bitter taste of soapânot matter how fragrantâI do not.
With Darnell towering over me like a young Moor of Venice, I serviced him in the same way I imagine adoring Desdemona would have serviced her hard-cocked Black Prince; by taking his cock deep in my (now more experienced) throat, grabbing his tight young ass in both hands, and mouth-fucking him to the explosive orgasm he had missed out on earlier by having a piss-hardon. And, just like the adoring Venetian princess I was imaging myself as, I dutifully swallowed every syrupy dollop of my Moorish Princeâs delicious cum.
If poor Othello had not allowed that deceitful Iago to fill his head with unwarranted jealousy, he would not have senselessly murdered his beloved Desdemona, and I know in my heart of romantic hearts, that the brawny Moor of Venice would have received this very same sort of supplicant oral worship from his adoring white princess for many, many years. As well as any other âvariations of dutiful servicingâ he might have requested of Desdemona, I am certain.