The Breaking of Donna Dunn
Part 1
The last thing in the world Donna Dunn wanted was to move but when her husband Harold came to her with the bad news of his relocation to detroit, there was little she could do to prevent it.
With her work at the local church and teaching literature at the local senior high, Donna was an up and coming all star in the local social elite. She volunteered for local charities, always participated in joint functions on the P.T.A., and was well respected among the other wives of her small town. Now all that was about to change.
Harold's company specialized in urban rehab, and a major opportunity had come for him to head up a massive project in the Motor City. Donna supported her husband of course, but uprooting her life was upsetting to say the least.
At thirty-two, Donna still had the hard body of a woman in her early twenties. Her large beautiful breasts sat high on her chest like a pair of twin torpedos with fat upturned nipples at their ends and her bottom was wide and round, the object of most men's most wicked fantasies. She worked hard to keep in shape despite her husband's fading interest in sex, but among many of the local men and high school boys Donna was regarded as a world class MILF. She didn't mind flirting, but never took things to far. She'd been faithful to her beloved Harold since they'd met in Jr. High, and while they had never had children of her own she knew there was still time to start a family.
The one saving grace of their relocation had been an opening at the local school. Donna was excited to once more find herself in front of a class of eager learners, guiding and developing young minds as she helped young boys and girls become men and women, prepared for the world beyond their teenage years.
The moment Donna set foot in her class she knew at once that her past experience had done nothing to prepare her for what she faced.
Marcus Black Senior High was almost exclusively African American, and from the looks of her class almost the entire student body was made up of young men.
Swallowing hard, Donna paused as the bell rang and her class came to order. Before her sat twenty of the biggest, strongest, most virile black boys she had ever seen. Each of the boys was over eighteen, having been held back for one reason or another. They were all fit, tall, and seemed to radiate with a kind of primal energy that Donna couldn't ignore.
"Yu so damn fine, Teach." One of the boys spoke up the second he got a look at Donna. She'd worn her cutest cream blouse unbuttoned to show just a hint of cleavage and her prized pearl necklace. Her skirt was grey and came to mid thigh, hugging her rounded rear perfectly without being to overt. Donna loved it when men noticed her big bottom, but the way the boys were checking it out made her feel almost naked before them. There was no ignoring the way her pussy began to weep as their eyes devoured her. Long lined stockings and pumps completed her look, her sopping panties clinging to her shaven peach like a second skin as she bit her bottom lip and worked up the courage to introduce herself.
"Th... Thak you... Michael." Donna smiled, consulting her seating chart for the boys name. "I... That's very nice of you, but hardly appropriate. You are very handsome yourself. Lets do keep things professional though, alright?"
"He don't mean nothin by it, yo." Another boy spoke up, grinning brightly and exposing a glittering gold grill of teeth behind his thick ethnic lips. "Just ain't seen somethin so pink and sweet befo. You got curves girl. Ain't one of us ain't picturing you butt ass nekid on all fours right now."
Donna felt her entire body blush. Inside her there was a voice screaming out to scold the boy for being so forward and obscene. Strangely, there was a second voice as well, like an angel and devil sitting on each of her shoulders guiding her thoughts. The second voice was one Donna had never heard before. When it spoke, Donna's pussy quivered.
"My name is Donna Dunn. That's Mrs. Dunn to you boys." Donna said. Finally finding her courage, she stepped before her desk and leaned back against it, her large rear end flattening against the hard wood as the meat of her bottom spread out on either side. The men groaned, eyes locked on her as she moved.
"I can tell you naughty boys are going to be trouble, so lets be clear fron the start. I'm a married woman and very much in love with my husband Harold."
"Sound like he a white boy." Another of the men spoke. His name was Pete. He wore a jersey for the school's basketball team and his big strong arms were on full display as he leaned back in his desk, one hand down at his crotch. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, he openly gripped the meat of his dick through baggy shorts as he spoke, looking Donna up and down like a hungry lion. "You ain't never got with a nigga, befo. Mothafuckin shame, with a body like dat. Damn, Boo. You don't know what love is."
Donna knew the right ting to do was to send Pete strait to the office. In her old school he would be expelled for such behavior toward a teacher. Sexual harassment would not be tolerated in her class. That was what she knew was right. That was how people were supposed to act.
"You..." Donna began, then paused. "I really... Pete... What... What is love then, Pete?" She asked, her voice soft and inviting. She couldn't drown out the second voice. It was getting louder all the time. "Harold is very... sweet to me."
Almost absentmindedly Donna reached up and undid the top button of her blouse. The men were all smiling now and could see her begin to respond. With the tiniest hint of white lace peaking, another of the boys spoke up, licking his lips as he ogled Donna's exposed flesh.
"Sho Harold is a nice dude, Baby." He said. Jamal wore dirty jeans and timberlands with a white wife beater that strained against his tar black skin and thoroughbred muscles. "Just hard to imagine some white boy wreckin dat ass like it deserve is all." he paused, flashing Donna a big smile as he undid his button fly and pulled his cock free from inside, holding the root of it and pumping the length in his fist; so much fat black meat, over a foot long and still soft. It looked like a loppy tree-trunk instead of a male endowment. Donna's eyes were fixed on it.
