White Sluts' Club: Bride-to-Be!

Summary:

Sweet girl is introduced to the world of big black cock via gangbang.

Note:

This is dedicated to the real

Naomi

who requested this chocolate filled fantasy.

Thanks to:

Robert. Goamz86, David and Wayne for editing this story.

White Sluts' Club: Bride-to-Be!

"Tonight you can't say no," Becka ordered, like the drill sergeant she often is.

"Yes, ma'am," I saluted sarcastically, already tipsy from three glasses of wine.

Jennie added, "It's your last night of freedom, so you need to make it epic."

"I'm just getting married, not going to a convent," I protested.

"Marriage is worse," Becka, the group slut, countered.

I shook my head as it was never worth the effort to fight with Becka.

Amy asked, "Are we really going to The Pit?"

"Of course," Becka said, "where else would you take a goody-goody like Keli?"

"I'm not a goody-goody," I protested.

"You're so pure you make Snow White look dirty," Becka quipped.

"I can be dirty," I argued, although my fantasies were a lot more sexy and naughty than my real life.

"How many guys have you fucked?" Becka questioned.

"Why does that matter?" I asked. "It's not quantity over quality."

"But it is important to experiment with a variety of shapes, sizes, positions and colours before getting a ball and chain attached to your ankle for life," Becka continued.

"She's not going to jail," Amy said, defending me.

"Marriage is the longest jail sentence possible," Becka protested.

"I'll remember that when you get engaged," Sara quipped, although she was laughing while she said it.

"Hell will freeze over first," Becka said.

"Oh Becka, you talk tough, but you are a softie inside," I teased.

"Enough talk, it's time to slut you up," Becka declared.

"Isn't this outfit you made me wear slutty enough?" I asked. I was in a striped mini-skirt that barely covered my ass, and a tight blouse that showcased rather clearly my small 34B tits.

"Your slut ensemble just needs one more thing," Becka said.

"What's that?" I asked, unable to fathom what else I could possible wear to make this look sluttier.

"Pantyhose," Becka said.

"I don't wear pantyhose," I said with disdain, I hated the feel of them. The rare time I was forced to wear nylons, I wore thigh high stockings.

"Oh, trust me," Becka replied ominously. "You will definitely want them on tonight. Isn't that right girls?"

Jennie who had been silent during the conversation agreed, "Oh, trust me, pantyhose are essential."

I had noticed all four of my bridesmaids were wearing pantyhose earlier, which was strange, but didn't think anything of it. Becka was wearing red pantyhose, which stood out with her all black outfit, but she always liked to stand out. Sara was wearing black nylons, Amy white and Jeannie pink.

"Why is that?" I asked, curious.

"Oh, that is a surprise," Becka coed, handing me a package of beige pantyhose.

"I'm not wearing these," I said.

Sara said, "You can't go in there without nylons on."

"That's the strangest club ever," I pointed out.

"You don't know the half of it," Amy agreed.

"If I'm going, I'm wearing thigh highs," I countered, "I have a pair somewhere in my dresser."

"What colour?" Becka asked.

"Black," I answered. "Why does that matter?"

"Trust me, it does," Jeannie said.

"Girls, what is going on?" I asked.

"Tonight, we are in charge," Becka said, pushing me to the couch. "Now just do as you're told."

"Fine," I said, "I'll be your fucking Barbie doll."

I sat there as Becka put the pantyhose on me while saying, "I hope this club is worth it."

Sara promised, "It will change your life."

Jeannie added, "Yes, you are in for a big surprise," stressing the word 'big'.

Amy quipped, "You will see things you have never seen before."

Becka ordered, "Stand up."

I did and she pulled the pantyhose up and over my ass.

She joked, "I bet you have never even had a good pussy lapping, have you?"

"John is fine," I pointed out, although truth be told I had never come from sex, only with my fingers after (or with the massage wand I had bought online).

"'Fine', what a flattering compliment," Becka smiled.

"Let's get going," Sara said, "I didn't wear black stockings for nothing."

"Yes, you wore them for a very special reason," Becka purred.

"Damn right," Sara nodded.

I was confused by the conversation, but often was and soon we were in a limousine the girls had hired for the night. On the ride, things got even stranger.

Becka said, "Let's play a game."

"What game?" I asked.

"Who is the best kisser?" she said.

"And how are we going to do that?" I asked, even though I should have known.

"You're going to kiss each one of us and declare a winner," Becka revealed.

"No I'm not," I protested.

Surprising me, Jeannie leaned in and kissed me, breaking my short protest. I was shocked, but her lips were so soft that after a moment I began kissing her back. The whole time my head was spinning, 'I am kissing a girl.'

"Next," Becka said, breaking the brief moment of intimacy.

I stared at Jeannie as she moved away and said, "I've wanted to do that for a long time."

"You'd love to kiss her other lips wouldn't you?" Becka teased.

Jeannie, surprising me again, her eyes not breaking contact with mine, replied, "In a heartbeat."

My eyes went big as Amy moved from her seat and kissed me. Hers was sloppier, but again I gave myself to the kiss.

As soon as she moved away, Sara moved in and kissed me as well. She immediately slipped her tongue in my mouth, making the kiss more passionate and urgent. My tongue slid inside her mouth and we explored each other's mouths.

Becka then said, "My turn."

Sara moved away and Becka ordered, "Come to me, Naomi."

So intoxicated with the kissing, I obeyed, moving to her in an almost hypnotic state. Reaching her, I leaned in and kissed her.

She kissed me back, surprisingly tenderly. Her personality is normally so aggressive that I assumed it would be raw...yet I melted into her.

This kiss lasted longer and wasn't stopped until Sara said, "Lesbians, we are here."

Becka broke the kiss and quipped, "I think we may have given you the wrong nylons."

All the others laughed at the strange statement.

"Let's go slut," Becka said, taking my hand. "Time to literally fuck you up."

I thought she meant getting me hammered, which in retrospect she did, but not with liquor as I assumed.

We walked into the club, Becka still holding my hand, and I immediately noticed there were a lot of black men. This didn't surprise me, Becka only fucked black men, something she was very proud of.

I stammered, "W-w-why are we here?"

"To have your bachelorette party, of course," Becka said, pulling me to the bar.

"A round of sex on the beach," she demanded to the black bartender.

"Sure thing, Becka," he nodded.

"He knows your name?" I asked, even though the answer was obvious.

"He knows my cunt too," Becka responded.

"Everyone here knows your cunt," Sara quipped.

"They would know yours too, if you would do more than just suck," Becka countered.

"Yes, once you go black you never go back," Amy added.

"And that goes for black cunt," Jeannie said.

I still thought they were just fucking with me when the shots arrived.

We each took a shooter glass and Becka declared, "To the bride-to-be."

We each downed our shots as a very big, built black man said, "Another round for the lovely ladies and two for the bride-to-be."

"Hey, Jamie," Becka greeted.

"Hey, sexy," he said, leaning in and kissing her. When he broke the kiss, he asked, "So who is the new girl?"

"Naomi," Becka said, "she's getting married next weekend."

"And you brought her here tonight?" he questioned.

"You can't get married and end your life without at least sampling some dark meat," Becka said, looking directly at me.

He chuckled, "That is a pretty good theory." Turning to me, he greeted, "Nice to meet you, Naomi."

"You too," I nodded, in awe of just how handsome he was.

Suddenly an older looking black woman grabbed Jeannie by the arm and said, "Come with me, slut."

"Yes, Mistress," Jeannie replied, following her.

I stared in complete shock as I watched one of my best friends walk away with a much older black woman. She was led to a table with two other black women and my shock doubled as Jeannie dropped to her knees and crawled under the table.

Becka asked, "You really didn't know Jeannie munched cunt?"

"No," I said, still staring in disbelief.

The bartender returned and we each took another shot, while Becka and I did two, Becka taking Jeannie's second shot.

Jamie turned to Sara and asked, "Ready for a load?"

"God yes," Sara nodded.

"Let's go," Jamie said, before turning to me, "I'll be back for you later, sexy."

My eyes went big again as he walked away.

I asked, "Where are they going?"

"To one of the suck and fuck rooms," Becka said.

"Or munch," Amy added, "Don't forget about our Jeannie."

"She almost always ends up under the table," Becka pointed out.

"That is true," Amy laughed.

"I need to go home," I said, realizing what kind of club this was.

"Oh honey," Becka said, handing me a coaster, "the night is just getting started."

I read it and gasped.

The Colour Code for The Pit

The colour of nylon you are wearing tells our patrons what exactly you are interested in.

Beige...first timer

Black...full face fucking

Fishnet...deep ass fucking

Pink...mouth full of cunt

Red...double or triple penetration (threesome or more some)

White...hard cunt pounding

"Holy shit," I gasped, looking down at Amy and Becka's legs.

"That is an understatement," Becka smiled, just as an older looking, very attractive, bald black man joined us.

He smiled and said looking at me, "Hi, I'm Jamal."

"I'm Naomi," I reply, instantly finding this man attractive. I then shook my head slightly, reminding myself I was engaged.

"First time here, I see," he says looking down at my beige nylons.

"Yes," I nodded, before adding, "I had no idea we were coming here."

"Well, I'm glad you did," he smiled widely.

"I'm, um, not here for that," I explained.

"For what?" he asked, as Amy sauntered away towards a younger looking tattoo covered black guy.

"For this," I said.

"Talking?" he questioned.

Becka added, "Our bride-to-be is a black virgin."

"Well, that's a shame," he said.

Becka added, "And it's time to change that."

"Becka!" I gasped. "I'm getting married."

"Which I have told you is a mistake," she said. "But tonight, you promised to do whatever I said."

"But that didn't include sex," I protested.

Jamal slipped his arm around me.

I quickly said, even though I could feel my pussy dampen on his touch, "I have a fiancé."

He laughed as he took my hand and moved it directly to his crotch. He said, "I have something your white boy doesn't."

I gasped as I felt the hardness... the thickness... the length.

I was in utter awe as I forget I was engaged, I forget I was in a public place, and I moved my hand to see how big it truly is.

He said, "Come back to my table, Naomi. You too, Becka."

He took my hand and led me to a table, the whole time I was thinking 'his dick is twice the size of John's.

As I followed, I saw a pretty redhead bobbing up and down on a much older black man. I couldn't see his cock, just her head at a table bobbing.

I glanced back and saw Jeannie's heels poking out from underneath the table.

At the table, he sat down and patted a spot beside him. For some reason I felt compelled to obey and scooted in beside him, my mini skirt riding up even higher.

Becka joined us, and more drinks arrived.

He put his hand on my leg. No more, no less, and yet it was enough to drive me crazy with mixed emotions. I felt guilty for touching his cock, even though it happened so quickly I really had no control over it. Yet, I did have control over my hand remaining there. I felt an incredible amount of lust. Feeling his big cock, curiosity and horniness took over... the three shots and drinks at home not helping the rational, logical side of my brain.

Becka explained to Jamal. "Our bride-to-be here is practically a virgin."

"I am not!" I protested, both because I wasn't and because I didn't want to seem like a prude in front of this stranger.

"You've been with one guy," she said.

"A lot," I pointed out.

Jamal laughed softly, as his hand moved up my leg slowly. "You can't get married having been with only one man. You will always wonder what else is out there."

Becka added, "Especially one small dicked white guy."

I asked, "How do you know John is small dicked?"

"Isn't he?" she asked.

I looked at Jamal and, flirting very inappropriately, said, "He is compared to you."

"I'm flattered," he said, as he moved my left hand and placed it firmly on his crotch.

My face burned red as I grabbed for my rum and coke and downed half of it.

As Becka continued talking about my apparently pathetic sex life, his hand slid underneath my skirt. I don't know why I did it, but I opened my legs wider to give him easier access to my suddenly burning pussy.

Becka saw this and smiled, but thankfully didn't say anything.

Suddenly, Sara joined us, beside Jamal, and saw where my hand was. She smiled and said, "Do you two need to be alone?"

I quickly moved my hand away, somehow feeling guilty to have Sara see me, but not Becka.

Jamal took my hand and wordlessly put it back on his crotch.

My face was burning with shame and lust.

I looked at Sara and saw she had cum on her chin. The night already surreal, I decided to point it out, "You have cum on your chin."

"Do I?" she asked, moving her hand to her chin and scooping up a gob of cum. "The last guy shot quite a load, she added, before casually putting the cum in her mouth.

"Sara loves cum," Becka said.

"Especially cum shot from big black cock," Sara added, as she moved her hand to Jamal's cock and over mine. "Oh my, this gun feels loaded."

Jamal laughed, "It's always loaded."

Suddenly, I moaned out loud as his fingers touch my pussy lips through my pantyhose and panties. I instantly wished I hadn't worn pantyhose as he could be touching my fevered box directly.

"Should we leave you two alone?" Sara asked.

"No," I replied quickly, knowing that I wouldn't be able to resist him if left alone.

Becka, surprising me totally, moved to me, put her hands between my legs and ripped open my pantyhose at the crotch.

I gasped, and asked, even though the answer was obvious, "What are you doing?"

"Just giving Jamal here access to your white box," she matter-of-factly and crudely answered.

I should have done something right then and there. This was getting out of hand, literally, and yet I just sat there as Jamal's finger moved inside my panties and to my wetness.

Sara added, "Just let go and be a white slut for a night."

I moaned again, closing my eyes, as his finger slid inside me. He said, "I think we got another white girl in need here."

I hated the derogatory treatment of women usually, but at the moment what he said was true.

Jamal smiled, suddenly taking control, "Pretty bride-to-be, you are coming with me."

He pulled his finger out of my pussy and offered it to Sara who opened her mouth and sucked my wetness. I stared at yet another shocking act.

Sara smiled and said, "Oh, Jeannie is going to love you."

I said, trying to hold onto some remote semblance of décorum, "I'm not a lesbian."

"Just a slut for black cock," Becka quipped, as Sara slid out of the seat so Jamal could get up.

He took my hand and pulled me out of the booth.

Jamal says, "I'm going to take your friend out back for a quick initiation to black cock."

My face burned and yet I allowed myself to be led out of my seated spot.

Becka said, "Enjoy yourself, Naomi."

I just hung my head, humiliation burning through me as I followed.

A guy said, "You breaking in the rookie?"

"Yep," Jamal answered.

"I'm next, sweet stuff," someone else said, slapping my ass as I passed.

Although part of me was mortified, more of me was undeniably excited.

He led me down a narrow hallway with doors on both sides. Some were open and I saw they had a bed, couch, and sink.

He led us into a room and closed the door. It was a nicer room than a few I had passed.

As soon as the door was closed, he put his hands on my shoulders and guided me down.

I didn't fight it. Instead, I allowed myself to drop onto my knees. My face was now directly in front of his crotch and I didn't hesitate. I suddenly had to see it, to feel it, to have it.

I fished out his cock, even as he laughed, "I thought you may be a little harder to break."

As I pulled out his massive black cock, so long it looked like a snake, he continued, "I was told you would be a hard one."

"This is a hard one," I said, stroking his huge cock.

He laughed, "That it is, my white slut."

Being called a 'slut', even worse a 'white slut' instantly made me feel like one. But I had to have his cock, and instead of responding, I leaned forward and took his thick mushroom top in my mouth.

"Oh yeah, you look hot with nigger cock in your mouth," he groaned.

The 'n' word sent a chill up my back. My father used that word liberally when describing blacks he thought were inferior to whites and I suddenly felt guilt at betraying my Dad. But as I sucked, his cock stretching my mouth, I thought about how wrong Dad was. This felt so right, pleasing a black man. Being on my knees for a black man. Being an obedient sex slave for a black man.

I gagged a couple of times as I thought this, and then decided to let my brain go blank and just focus on the cock in my mouth.

"This is going to be the night of your life," he groaned, as he put his hands in my hair.

I knew there was no way I could take all ten inches in my mouth, it being more than double my fiancé's four and a half inch cock, and yet I wanted to get as much as possible. I also wondered how such a cock would ever fit in my pussy... but I definitely wanted it in me.

After a couple of minutes of sucking, he pulled out and said, "Get out of that dress."

I stood back up and willingly got undressed in front of a man who wasn't my fiancé.

"Bra, too," he ordered, once my dress was off.

I obeyed, my breasts a little small and the one thing I wished was bigger on me.

He went to a desk and returned with scissors.

Suddenly nervous, I asked, "W-w-what are those for?"

"To get rid of your panties," he said, as he moved his hand to my legs, and quickly cut the fabric. "We always keep the nylons on."

"Oh," was all I said, as he pulled the panties out from the pantyhose. He moved the panties to his nose and said, "You are soaked."

I didn't say anything, as I watched him get undressed. He then said, "Ready to be turned into another white cock slut for nigger cock?"

The words were so blunt... so crude... so wrong.

Yet, I nodded, staring at his Adonis like black body, muscles everywhere, tattoos everywhere, and said, "Yes."

"Yes, what?" he asked, as he moved to the bed and lay down.

"Yes, I want your big black cock," I admitted, following him to the bed. Staring at the massive black light house that was guiding me in.

"You want to be a white slut for black cock?" he questioned, as I joined him on the bed.

I nodded, "Yes, I want to be a slut for black cock."