The School Counsel Who Can't Say No

'I wasn't always like this,' it occurred to her as she sat naked, on the pool table in the dingy back room of the bar, the yellow light from the dangling overhead lamp gleaming in the eyes of the black men surrounding her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her bag lying on the pool table near to her, and thought, inside that bag is her license, her phone, her ID that said, Claire Lin, licensed therapist and student counselor at junior college. For an instant, she thought of her husband at home, taking care of the kids. She thought of her quiet normal life.

Then, she raised her legs, the crystal studs of her stiletto heels shimmering, the skin of her thighs creamy smooth, and showed the men her battered holes. Her pussy and anus gaped at them, bright purple after being penetrated by a dozen black cocks, semen dripping in gobs onto the green felt. She stared into their faces and rubbed the rim of her anus with two elegantly manicured fingers. Moaning softly, she slid her fingers up her rectum and then, her slanted oriental eyes glimmering, licked her fingers clean.

"I wasn't always like this," she thought, as the men cheered her on, "but I am now."

She smiled at them and said, 'More please.'

A young buck approached her, the fly of his jeans open, his massive member long and hard in his hands, 'May I, ma'am?"

She smiled and nodded. "Please." She wrapped her arms around his strong shoulders and cried out bucking as he slid his thick cock into her pussy. 'No-- my ass,' she whispered, as she backed off. 'I want to feel you in my ass.'

She reached down and grabbed his throbbing member and guided him to her rectum. Even though her anus was already gaping when his head popped through her sphincter, she cried out in pain and bliss. He slid into her anal canal smoothly, her hole already slick with cum and she whimpered with every inexorable inch until he filled her to the root and she moaned with ecstasy.

Another black jumped up on the pool table, knocking the low overhanging lamp and cursing. He knelt on the pool table next to her, big cock in hands. She turned to him and sucked on this dark meat, desperately shoving as much of his thick rod into her mouth and down her throat as she could, watching for the video camera recording it all. The young man pumped deeply into her, and her anal orgasm surged through her like a giant wave that kept washing over her, warm electricity flowing through her from her rectum to her fingertips to her lips stretched around the other's cock.

She sucked harder and then noticed the young man's eyes rolling back in his head. She dropped the cock from her mouth and wrapped her hands around his face and kissed his thick lips murmuring, 'Cum in me baby cum in me.'

They exploded together. He roared and she felt his massive cum load surge through his cock and explode deep in her rectum. She screamed, her orgasm so electric she nearly fainted as she squirted clear pussy juice all over the young man's tight gut.

She lay back on the pool table, the felt of the pool table gentle against her sweaty back and smiled dreamily as a cock loomed over her and spat its thick load in her eyes.

Later she woke up alone in the dingy room. She sat up, the towel that lay over her naked body falling to her lap. She looked around and heard a noise and held the towel up to cover her nudity.

An older man came in the doorway marked exit. He smiled at her, his teeth bright against the ebony of his skin, 'You're up?'

She smiled at him, recognized him, 'Yeah,' she whispered keeping the towel around her.

'You remember what happened last night?'

She looked down then back at him, her smile tiny and chagrined. 'Uh huh.'

They both laughed.

'You put on quite a show, young lady.'

She dropped the towel and straightened her posture, her tiny breasts pointed and erect, 'Can I have some more?'

'What? No ma'am, playtime is over for you. Get dressed and I'll walk you to your car. And when you get into that car you drive straight home to that nice house in the suburbs and that nice white man you married and those adorable kids you got, you hear me?'

'Yes, Daddy,' she said, her eyes downcast.

The man stared at her and sighed. 'Okay, okay, you can suck my dick one last time.'

She looked at him, her eyes bright, and shimmied off the pool table and went to work on his thick cock.

As she drove home, through the dark and dirty streets of the ghetto, she warily watched for possible attackers. Not that she was necessarily afraid of being attacked; it was just, how would she explain what she was doing in this neighborhood at four in the morning?

Finally she saw the signs for the highway, got on the entrance ramp and could relax as she sped through the dark landscape.

She thought about what she had become, about why, what were her reasons.

She knew why other women had affairs—they were unhappy with their husbands, they felt unloved, they were bored. . . But she knew that wasn't it.

First, she wasn't having an affair. She was slutting around. That was clear. She didn't love these men—the black men, as they were almost entirely black men-- who fucked her ass with their massive cocks.

It wasn't an emotional need at all. She loved her husband, she loved her kids, and she loved her job.

No, it wasn't emotional. It was physical. She was an addict. She was addicted to black cock—that was it, plain and simple. She loved the feel of 12 inches of thick massive hard meat sliding up her anus. She loved getting as much of that meat down her throat. She loved the thrill of walking through her campus in a short skirt and no panties and maybe anal beads inside her -- of finding one of the college students and fucking him in a stairwell or empty bathroom.

The truth of it hit her like a slap to the face.

She was an addict; as bad as any junky or alcoholic. And just like a drug addict, she knew this addiction had the possibility—no, the likelihood-- of derailing her entire life.

She couldn't stop sucking black cock... everywhere. Just the week before she had the bag checker at her local supermarket walk her to her SUV; when he got there, she invited him in to the back seat, behind tinted windows. She moaned just thinking about how massive his cock had been, and how it felt to take that cock up her ass right there in her vehicle, in the middle of the afternoon, as shoppers passed by going about their ordinary days.

But her day had been anything but ordinary. Few of her days had been ordinary recently.

She licked her lips, and tasted the salty taste of cum, and thought of tonight's session.

A dozen of them, at least.

She had gone out cruising. Yes, that was the word—cruising. She had gotten off work, but she just couldn't head home. She needed something; something big, thick and hard, and she needed it now.

So, she headed where white—or, in her case, Oriental-- girls headed when they wanted to be naughty—she headed to the dark side of town.

As she recalled the night, she glanced in the rearview mirror-- at her slanted eyes, her puckered lips, and gave a little kiss to herself. She thanked fortune she had lips that men just loved to see wrapped around their cocks, and a body that drove them crazy with desire.

She had driven through the bad section of town, scared and exhilarated. She kept driving up and down streets, gaining the attention of drug dealers and other thugs who started calling out to her. She had gotten frightened then; she wanted to fuck, not get robbed or killed, after all, and had nearly driven home, but then caught site of the bar along a set of row houses. Two men stood out front; not street thugs, but men, working men, smoking cigarettes and talking. She had pulled over to the curb and asked them if they knew of any good bars.

The men had exchanged glances.

"Here's good," one of them offered.

He smiled at her. She had looked at them, wavering. Neither of them was handsome; one was tall and skinny, the other more portly. A breeze came along, a spring breeze filled with promise, and she noticed they weren't smoking cigarettes but a joint.

The shorter, plumper one approached her car and leaned in to the passenger window. "c'mon, girl, don't be afraid. Park your car out back and come on in for a drink. No one will hurt you."

She had noticed how bleary red his eyes were, and the beer on his breath, and almost told him to go away.

The man had seen her indecision. "What's your name, girl?"

She hesitated. "Claire," she finally said.

"What you like, Claire?"

She had bit her lip at this one, and looked down.

"Come on, Claire, its ok, you know what you like. And you can find it here."

She had looked up, into his eyes, and read the hunger in them. She had been frightened, she remembered, and had been amazed when she heard herself say, "Where can I park?"

The man smiled and said, "That's my girl," and told her where to park, in the lot behind the bar.

The two men had waited for her; Lester and John she seemed to recall, but couldn't be sure. She had met a lot of men tonight. They had met her and walked her into the bar.

The door had opened, and the bar had fallen silent as all eyes turned to them—to her. A dozen black men, some sitting or standing at the bar, others around a pool table in the back.

"Guys, I'd like to introduce Miss Claire. Now, she's new to this part of town, so I think we should all be as nice as we can and show her a good time."

Lester, the portly one, led her to the bar, where a few of the guys' hurriedly made way for her, their eyes wide and mouths open.

They ordered her a drink, making faces at her choice—margarita—the bartender—an older fellow, protesting he didn't even know how to make it. But he had been kidding. They had all been so nice. And one drink led to another, and another.

Claire had noticed as the men started circling the little group she had made with Lester and several of his buddies. She felt so warm, being at the center of this little group.

And then the joints came out. She took a few puffs, protesting that this stuff made her so horny, and then started to really have a good time.

Someone had asked her, "What's your ultimate fantasy?"

She had looked at them, suddenly so turned on being at the center of this horde, and whispered, "To be -- you know, what do you call it? gangbanged? By a group of black men."

The men all exchanged glances, their smiles excited and knowing.

And when she had felt that first cock, huge and hard in her hands, she had practically fallen off her barstool to put it in her mouth.

She continued driving down the highway, suddenly wet at the memory of how the men had carried her over to the pool table. She remembered how she just lost all of her inhibitions with this group; she stripped off her clothes for them—everything but her fuck-me crystal stilettos -- and had practically begged them one after the other to fuck her.

She gasped as she drove, thinking of the DP they had given her. One of the men had lain on his back on the pool table, and she straddled him, taking his long member deep in her pussy. But then another had gotten behind her, and slid his huge 11 inch cock up her ass, making her scream and cum like never before, squirting all over the pool table.

And it had just kept coming- all night—a dozen of them.

"Oh god," she whispered, as she saw the exit for her small suburban village ahead. "What am I going to tell my husband?"

She drove down the quiet empty streets of the leafy suburb, seeing not a soul, and pulled into the driveway. She took off her shoes and tiptoed into the front door. She quickly scanned the downstairs, and noticed a bottle of whisky, half empty- on the kitchen counter. He had gotten drunk. Thank god, she thought.

And she tiptoed into the bathroom to wash her sins away.