At the end of the school year, I packed and moved in to my new condominium. Well, actually, I spent most of the time on my back and knees servicing my boys while they got me all packed and moved to my new condo. I must have been banged by the whole fraternity during moving day.
It was the nicest place I'd ever lived -- a two-bedroom condo in a nice section of town, compete with a garage and a nice balcony porch.
I sat in my living room the first night a sipped a glass of wine thinking of the journey that brought me here. From a high school slut to a legislative aide slut to a house mother slut to a prostitute, I had to admit that I enjoyed the journey, although for some reason, being a prostitute was a little more disconcerting than just being a slut. With my other jobs, I earned a living and gave away the pussy. With this job, I'm being supported in exchange for my pussy. But I knew I'd get used to it as long as I kept getting my hot little white pussy plowed by big black cocks.
During the last 27 years as a house mother to the black fraternity, I had been fucked by more than 300 young black boys, some of whom were the offspring of the original members who hired me. Thousands and thousands of loads of cum had been dumped into my white body. I smiled as I finished the wine and fell in to bed.
Over the next few weeks, my ten benefactors all stopped to visit me and use my holes. I have to admit that just thinking of Jamal, Leonard, Jalen, Anthony, George and the rest of them made me wet. Those boys had given me the job at the fraternity and broke me in to the pleasure of young black cock, and most of them stopped every year during Homecoming week to spend time fucking me at the Marriott. Yeah, I've been fucking most of them longer than their wives have.
It took no time at all for me to get used to my new digs and job. My benefactors each stopped a couple of times each month to get laid. After the first two months, they began sending clients to me. Most of the young black men just wanted a fast piece of ass or to experience their first white woman fuck, but the homelier ones always asked to take me out to dinner or drinks before fucking me. As long as they let me know in advance, I tried to dress as slutty as I could. Since I was still a little heavy, the men seemed to like the way my clothes fit tight on my 42(D) tits and my 44-inch hips and ass. I guess they just wanted to be seen with a white woman on their arm, and I let them take whatever liberties they wanted with my body during the evening.
The first three years living in my new condo and working for my benefactors as a prostitute went by quickly. When I was 58, I got a letter announcing my 40
th
year high school class reunion. At first, I blew it off, but then my old friend Amber tracked me down and begged me to come. I knew she was divorced and dating a fellow classmate who had been a big deal on the football team. I think he was also one of the guys who raped me at the graduation party.
I wasn't sure what to do so I asked Jamal for advice when he stopped by for one of his monthly fucks. After I sucked his cock and balls and took him up my ass, he sat and listened to my tale. Fortunately, his wife was out of town so he could spend the night with me. Jamal suggested that I take one of the fraternity hunks to my reunion, and offered to find one for me. I agreed on the condition that he was old enough to drink.
On reunion day, I dressed in a skirt a couple inches above my knees and a button up top. Both the skirt and top were extremely tight after stretching over my substantial tits and ass. As I was looking at myself in the mirror, the doorbell rang. When I opened the door, I was greeted by the most beautiful smile on the most handsome man I had ever seen. I was speechless, but he held out his hand and asked, "Liz?" I numbly nodded my head and he said, "I'm your date Joe. May I come in?" I nodded again and he moved past me into my condo. I was almost drooling on my blouse as I feasted my eyes on this beautiful Adonis standing in my living room. He smiled at me again and I almost melted into the floor as he said, "When do we need to leave?"
"Uh, . . . well, uh . . . . maybe we, uh . . . . uh, maybe in about an hour," I mumbled.