Chapter 2
Outside, a gust of air caused a few leaves to break away from the blooming trees along the sidewalk. Across the street stood the white picket fence of Marjorie and Howard Wells. A short path of stones wove through the green grass, leading to the front door.
"I hope you have time to stay for a while so I can offer you some refreshments." Marjorie bent down to retrieve the key to the house, which she and her husband Howard kept under a flower pot. With her backside in the air and her heavy breasts nearly spilling out of her dress, she found herself in a delightful position.
Jordan and Camron admired Marjorie's curvaceous figure as she bent down. Their excitement grew, evident in the impressive bulges in their pants. In Jordan's case, his black cock swelled and formed an outline that reached his knee. On the other hand, the sheer girth of Camron's manhood, made it appear like the crotch of his pants was holding on for dear life.
"We sure do, Mrs. Wells." Jordan had been raised by a grandmother who taught him that kindness and generosity go a long way.
"That sounds really nice," Camron agreed, leaning slightly to the side in hopes of catching another glimpse of Marjorie's ample breasts.
"Please call me Marjorie," she said, standing up with the key in hand. A delightful smile crossed her face as she noticed the way Jordan and Camron looked at her, filled with lust. Back in her younger days, she would have had the confidence to ask them if she could worship their manhoods.
"And please, come in." Marjorie welcomed the two handsome young black men into her home.
Marjorie had decorated her home with warmth in mind, wanting everyone to feel at home. The wooden tile floor complemented the stairs that led upstairs. A collection of ferns and cactus plants were arranged near the stairs, with a forest painting by Carl Weese hanging on the wall behind them.
There were three distinct elements that made a Carl Weese painting so beloved, a beautiful landscape, often the edge of a forest or a lake, a passionate moment between a black man and a married woman, and a touch of humor, represented by the woman's husband, who was always depicted partly hidden behind a tree or a bush, watching his wife lovingly.
The husband in Marjorie's painting wore glasses and had a bit of a belly, which was precisely why she chose that particular piece. He resembled her dear husband Howard.
"You can just put the bags down here," Marjorie said, gesturing toward an empty spot near an antique wooden desk. A matching mirror hung above it, and the desk held two framed photographs.
Jordan and Camron placed the shopping bags near the desk. Though their hungry eyes were mostly on Marjorie and her shapely figure, they took the time to admire the women in the photos.
"That's my daughter, Henrietta, and her husband, Scott." Marjorie cherished her daughter's wedding photo.
In the picture, Henrietta rested in the strong arms of Scott's best man, a dashing, tuxedo-clad black man who had lifted her. Her traditional white wedding dress was strapless and exposed her full breasts. Her ebony hair was styled in a lovely wide bun at the back. The silver tiara resting on her bun, along with the matching earrings, complemented her light ebony skin beautifully. The dress had belonged to Marjorie.
It filled Marjorie with happiness and pride that her daughter had chosen to wear her wedding dress. Since Marjorie had been a similar size back in the day, only a few minor alterations were necessary.
Next to Henrietta, Marjorie's son-in-law Scott, in a pantless tuxedo, displayed his bare and meager penis. He sported an endearing smile. Marjorie had liked Scott since the moment she met him and couldn't have asked for a nicer man for her daughter. She recalled the touching moment at the wedding when he said "I do" to Henrietta and gave her the traditional kiss on the cheek. After the sweet kiss, Henrietta turned to Scott's best man, who took her into his arms and passionately tongue-kissed her while feeling her large, soft breasts. Marjorie glanced over at Scott, who gasped timidly and spurted his meager load of cum. She remembered wondering if Howard had reacted similarly when she had kissed his best man.
"She's beautiful." Camron felt a tinge of envy for the black man who had spent the wedding night in bed with Marjorie's daughter.
"It's easy to see where she got her stunning looks from." Jordan's lust for Marjorie had only grown, his swelling cock ached for her big tits.
"Oh." Marjorie exhaled softly. Her desire to worship the young black men grew with their sweet compliments.
Maybe...maybe I do dare to ask if I can worship their big manhoods...
The age difference faded from Marjorie's mind, even though they were younger than her son.
"Is that your daughter as well?" Camron asked, looking at the woman in another photo. The picture appeared to be taken at a beach resort, under a sunshade. The woman posed topless between two black men in shorts, both of them looking rather vigorous. She had red hair and fair skin, a slender build, a flat tummy, and long legs. She was also slightly bustier than someone with her slim frame.
In addition to the three, there was a joyful blonde-haired guy who waved.
"No, that's Fiona, my soon-to-be daughter-in-law. Well, I'm hoping she will be my daughter-in-law soon." Marjorie smiled at the lovely photo of her son Melvin and Fiona.
"That's my son, Melvin." Marjorie pointed at her son, who waved in the picture.
"He's actually a benchwarmer for the Pumas." Marjorie smiled excitedly and took a few steps down the hallway, where a photograph of her son in his uniform with the rest of his team hung on the wall.
"That's him, number seventeen." Marjorie pointed at her son among the other eleven benchwarmers. They all posed next to each other behind a bench that spanned their full length, dressed in their traditional pantsless benchwarmer uniforms, which consisted of just the team jersey and shoulder pads. Their penises and legs were bare.
Due to the framed photograph next to it, Jordan and Camron only gave a passing glance at the team photograph of Marjorie's son, which Marjorie noticed and smiled at proudly.
"That's one of Henrietta's promotional photos. She's a Lingam masseuse, specializing in the African manhood." Marjorie admired her daughter's beautiful photograph and her chosen profession.
In the photograph, Henrietta was naked and kneeling between a black man's legs. Both Henrietta and the man glistened with a slight sheen of oil. The man lay down, so only his legs and stiff erection were visible. The focus was on Henrietta's lustful gaze, her large breasts slightly pressed together, and the black man's tremendous cock. While Henrietta massaged the man's girth, her ten fingers only covered half of his length, revealing the desire she had for the black man and his beautiful cock.
Marjorie had an inkling that her daughter had gotten the idea for the pose from the framed photograph in the living room. Howard had taken it on their honeymoon some thirty years ago. Though it was captured from the side, with several palm trees in the background, it showed Marjorie on her knees, her large breasts wrapped around a tall black man's cock. That particular honeymoon photograph was one of her and Howard's favorites.
"She's even helped to relieve tension for a few rather successful tennis players before their matches," Marjorie said with a smile.
"I bet," Camron nodded, having felt the softness of a woman's breasts against his throbbing cock on several occasions.
