Whitewash High

Sometime in the Past

"Hey...Hey!" a Japanese man waved.

Nik took his earphones off. He was jogging on a treadmill and didn't notice the man say hello.

"Hi."

"You look in good shape. Do you come here often?" the man asked.

"Sometimes, when work lets me. Why?"

The Japanese man was skinny like a marathon runner. There didn't appear to be an ounce of muscle on him.

"Ever thought about being a model?"

Nik laughed at the comment and shrugged.

"Yeah, sure, who hasn't thought about being a model?"

"You look good. I need a foreigner for a photoshoot. If you're interested, I'll leave my card at the front desk."

The man turned around and headed off in a hurry before Nik could have a chance to say yes or no. He was the only foreigner in the gym, out-lifting all but a handful of patrons. Surprisingly, no one batted an eye lash at him there. The model scout was the only aberration the entire month he had been working out in the facility.

Fresh out of the shower, and in normal clothing, he picked up the business card from the front desk. Nik's Japanese was poor, only having worked in the country for a couple months, but the front desk trainer had instructions to be on the lookout for him. Outside in the muggy night air, Nik gave the number a call. What did he have to lose?

"Moshi Moshi."

"Uh...hi, is this Mr. Sanada?" he asked, flipping around the business card.

"Yes, yes, who is this?"

"You gave me your card at the gym a couple hours ago."

"Oh, the gaijin. Good, I'm happy you called me. Are you available this weekend?"

"What is the job first? I don't even know what I'm modeling."

"Gomen ne! It is for dress suits, those ads you see hanging in the subway cars. You'd look fabulous. Please say you'll do it."

Nik got a bad vibe from how overly excited the man was for hiring him for a simple photoshoot.

"I guess I could. I don't have any plans. I just need to know how to get to the location."

"Great! I'll text you the location and directions. Don't worry, it is an easy job. Easy money."

"How much?"

Before Nik could get an answer, the man hung up.

"Right...this is definitely not weird," he said sarcastically. "Whatever, I really don't have anything to do on Saturday. What is the worst that can happen? I waste my time?"

Present Day

"Jerome didn't tell me he was sending a fine ass hoe to come get me," Jimmy Jack said, eyeing up Amanda.

"I'm his wife, not a hoe. And I'm the lawyer who got you out of jail right now, so don't be a stupid cotton picker," she retorted with disdain.

"Whatever, baby. I'm just glad to be free. No pussy in there, know what I'm saying?"

"Just get in the car. I already have the address to drop you off at."

"You're cold. You must not have a lot of fun," Jimmy Jack said, not bothering to fasten his seatbelt.

Amanda ignored the comment, and honestly didn't care if the street thug got splattered on the pavement if she hit a lamppost. She just did as she was told by Jerome. Spring him from jail and bring him to the address on the card. The nineteen year old kept yapping the entire drive but it went in one ear and out the other.

It was a dilapidated building located in one of the city's ghettos. Amanda was never there before, and the only thing she knew about the place was it was near PS 69. Why Jerome wanted him dropped off here was beyond her, but again she didn't care. The quicker he was gone, the better.

"Thanks baby, I've got a side girl here who loves when I drop by on the down low. Tell Jerome I'll keep my head down during the trial."

"I'll give him the message," she said, speeding off.

Just being in the area made the arrogant black woman feel like her car was depreciating by the second. Once she crossed the invisible line between ghetto and normal society an aire of calm returned to her demeanor.

"What the fuck are you doing, Amanda? Be a good girl and play chauffeur to some stupid thug. Oh yes, dear, I'll get right on that. Oh yes, I understand you have to work all night on our anniversary. Oh yes, I'll eat dinner alone at the restaurant again, all dolled up, made to look and feel stupid by being stood up for the literal hundredth time."

The black lawyer talked to herself the entire road home. It was a biting, sarcastic dialogue of how shit her personal life was.

"Yes, mama, I'll be a good girl and marry a black man. He is successful, handsome, and a pillar of the black community. I should be so grateful to wear his name as if he were a Massa. I feel so lucky and special that I get to be an overqualified secretary."

Driving into the giant parking lot of the mansion, she didn't see his car, nor did she expect to find it there. The butler took her jacket and the maid brought a soothing, hot coffee to the study as she worked on the upcoming case. Dirty thoughts kept invading the lawyer's imagination, making it harder and harder to concentrate on the task at hand. Even while reading a dry legal text, sexually impoverished fingers rubbed along the crotch of her panties.

Each minute that ticked away felt like hell. Jerome had a pattern. If he was coming home it was always before 10pm. Ten and one second, he'd never step foot in the house. Amanda got used to the lonely nights, but tonight she was going to indulge again. Each second that ticked felt like a struggle, not wanting to get interrupted by the car coming into the driveway as she was in the throngs of self-pleasure.

Amanda wanted to lock the door, put on a headset to not alert the in-house staff, and finger herself to dirty videos until she passed out, only to awaken in the morning feeling lathered in cunt juice and sweat. There was no time to buy a toy. That got ruined by bringing the thug to his side bitch.

"Did Jerome not know how humiliating a task like that was?" she thought to herself, closing a dusty book. "I'm his wife, not some first-year worker. It was grunt work. Jimmy Jack gloating he was staying at some side girl's place only made it more humiliating. One of the benefits of marriage is supposed to be easy access to sex, and I'm getting none of it."

A phone broke up her inner-monologue.

"Dammit, what does he want now?" she said, answering. "Hello, dear...uh-huh, yeah, sure, uh-huh. Yes, of course I finished your task. He said he'll keep his head down. Okay, I understand, dear. I'll see you in the morning at the office."

Amanda let out a sigh. It was not an angry sigh but a happy one. A week ago she'd have been angry, like always, that he never gave her the time of day. But after Valerie told her about the website, she felt better he wasn't around tonight. As to why she stayed with him for so long, obviously unhappy? She didn't know. Maybe job prestige, security. They were, on paper, one of the city's black power couples. To break that up would mean a dip in their perception, and perception is everything.

She learned early in her career that once a bell is rung, it can't be undone. A person can be shown the truth, no questions, and they'll still believe a lie if they heard the lie first. They won many cases painting good, honest people as racists, sexists, any 'ist' if it meant tainting the jury pool and public opinion because of the crazy social justice political spectrum galvanizing society currently.

"This is stupid. If Jerome doesn't want me, I'm not going to go grey worrying about that stupid nigger," she said confidently, getting up and leaving the house.

Amanda drove directly to where she should have gone to earlier, should have said to Jerome to stuff it and enjoy her evening. The store was brightly lit and was bordering along the bad side of town. 'Bad side' being a subjective term. She was black so the bad sides of town were the white ghettos. On the outside, the building looked clean enough. Inside there were a sparse amount of customers, mostly businessmen coming off of work and the odd, fat otaku nerd. All were white.

Browsing through the store, getting deeper into the back of the shop, the covers of the DVDs got harder and less apologetic. Even further back was the interracial section. It had everything there from standard white and black to even rarer combinations like Asian men fucking black women. A special shelf had an actor's poster. She recognized him from the website Valerie told her about.

The picture was signed and from top to bottom of the shelving unit were various videos he performed in. Curiosity and innate lust made Amanda take a closer look at the DVDs. She had only viewed the one scene where the man fucked the Asian daughter, but there was a massive variety. More Asian, some black, Latinas, Indians and 'Aryan' girls. There was no flavor of girl that wasn't spit shining his massive white cock. Someone even dressed up as She-Hulk to get her ass reamed open.

"Excuse me, miss, but you...uh...can't touch yourself so openly in here," a clerk said to her.

Amanda didn't realize she had her skirt hiked up and her panties pushed aside to finger her wet pussy. Instantly she blushed and apologized for the lewd display.

"There are rooms in the back for that," he said. "$5 for twenty minutes. Just bring the video you want to the counter and I'll set it up."

"People really do that?" she asked, naïve.

"Yeah, tonight is a bit dead though. Usually it is packed. Now is the best time for a little privacy if it is your first time doing it in a backroom."

Amanda nodded, both sickened and turned on. She wasn't a puritan but to finger herself in a dirty, semi-pubic room would be shameful and common. Still, she had to stop her fingers from going back to work as there were dozens of good choices.

"Okay, I think I'll choose you," she said, picking up one of the masked man's videos.

On the cover was him sitting behind a desk, dressed in a fancy suit. A black schoolgirl in a confederate flag cheerleading outfit had his cock in her mouth, looking like she won a million dollars. The flag, the scene, went against everything she believed in and worked hard fighting towards. The same clerk gave Amanda a smirk as he popped the DVD into the system.

Tentative steps lead the black lawyer to the assigned room. It wasn't as dirty as she thought it would be. It was cozy, small, but actually intimate. A large bed took up eighty percent of the floor space, and a giant, widescreen TV nestled snuggly in the wall for easy viewing. Amanda didn't pay any attention to the large plugs lined up inside both side walls.

Getting comfy, the video started playing. It did not take long for her to get offended at the obvious white supremacist appeal of the porno. Confederate flags proudly hung off the wall, and the pictures of famous southern, white leaders lined the room too. Not a single form of diversity on display. The only thing missing from the décor of the fake classroom was a Nazi flag to make it more racist in her mind.

The schoolgirl skipped casually, happily into the room to meet the teacher. It did not take long for them to flirt and start kissing. The more disgusted Amanda got, the more turned on she became. There was no ifs, ands, or buts, Amanda was a racist and proud of it. That was why it felt so shameful to get turned on so much by seeing a black woman subjugated by a white man, even if that white man had the biggest cock she ever saw. It dwarfed Jerome's, no debate. And the way the cheerleader kissed and tongued the head with a smile only made the sexually frustrated woman more depressed and bitter.

Something plastic bumped up against her leg and she saw one of the plugs had popped out. Before she had time to stop groping and fingering herself to the movie, a long, thick, veiny white cock slid through the hole.

Time stopped. It should have occurred to her this would happen. It was not her first rodeo in the world of kink, having had to sue and defend clients involving gloryholes. But to happen to her so casually, time just stopped. The thick piece of manmeat wiggled, as the man made it bounce up and down to get the occupant's attention.

Reaching over, Amanda hesitantly grabbed it softly. The anonymous white cock felt warm in her fingers. It was not the first cock she ever touched but it was the biggest. Not as big as the masked man's on TV but twice the size of Jerome's. It was long, thin and uncut. She could hear muffled pants from beyond the wall as the stroking picked up speed.

"I'm a married woman. I shouldn't be doing this. I know I shouldn't be doing this. I should stop. I'm going to stop. Now. Yes, now. Why am I not stopping?" Amanda said to herself. "It feels so good to touch."

Looking over at the screen, the black cheerleader was slurping down the massive cock, bobbing her head up and down with reckless abandon. A firm, tight ass on display as the cheerleader bent over at the waist.

"I can't do that but maybe a lick. It won't be infidelity if I just suck it..." she said, convincing herself.

Leaning forward, hesitantly, Amanda opened her mouth to lick the head of the white, veiny shaft. Each lick was slow, apprehensive. Even though her head was filled with depraved fantasies, her body still resisted falling for temptation and corruption.

"Don't be shy," the male voice said from beyond the wall.

The motivation was there in Amanda's slutty brain cells but the girl was stuck looking over the abyss. There would be no return if she succumbed fully. Another inch was licked as Amanda looked further over the cliff. The man teased her, wiggling his cock to slap itself on her tongue. Each dirty, lewd noise from the movie made another piece of her willpower melt. It did not help hearing the black cheerleader on the TV screen call the man Massa.

Lips closed over the cockhead, sealing itself airtight. Each successive lick got less tentative and more ecstatic. The man took note and began to groan in pleasure as Amanda focused entirely on the pisshole, gliding and loving it with her tongue. Her idea was to just suck the tip, to keep a little dignity and pride, but focusing on that single spot happened to turn the man on more. It wasn't long before he began cumming in her mouth without any warning.

Amanda gasped, choking on the white seed that invaded her throat. She had only ever sucked off black men before her marriage, never even giving a white boy the time of day. Now, to be kneeling in a gloryhole with white cum in her mouth, gave the woman pause and concern. It tasted good. One foot hovered over the abyss she knew was there.

The cock retracted with a thankful comment. On the other side of the room, a second plug plopped out to reveal another white cock. This one was shorter, shorter than average at four inches, but it was thick. Amanda gazed at it, swallowing the last drops of sperm from the previous patron.

This was the moment where the road forked in two. It was not too late for the black supremacist lawyer to continue down her pure road that she strived for all these years. It was a moment of weakness, of loneliness she could reason and convince herself in the future. One time didn't mean anything. But to reach forward and suck on a second white cock would mean going down the other road, a road where all her current values would be tarnished forever, where she would become whitewashed.

Time stood still for Amanda. Part said to get up and walk out of there and pretend nothing ever happened. Part said to succumb to the lust and open her mouth a second time. Reason was the deciding factor. She was lonely, unhappy, and not even put second by her husband but third, fourth, fifth place. These cocks, white cocks, were so hard for her. They lusted for her, wanted her, and why should she continue to feel unwanted and remain unhappy? It was her life, not her husbands.

Crawling towards the cock, she sniffed it loudly like a crackhead sniffing a line of coke. There was still hesitation in her movements but they were no longer caused by the angel and devil fighting on her shoulders. It was hesitation caused by inexperience, trying to figure out the right way to stroke off the fat cock for all its cum.

It was almost as thick as her arm. She didn't think a cock could grow in such a proportion. Trying to suck on the head was hard as her mouth stretched as wide as possible. Just getting an inch inside made the woman airtight, forcing her to quickly learn how to breathe with her nose.

Again she went back to focusing on the pisshole, running her tongue all along the opening. But this was not the man's sweet spot like the previous fellow. Amanda had to adapt, learn, and so she let the cock slip from her mouth to try something new, something she saw from a video that turned her on.

With no hands, Amanda slid her black cheek all along the shaft of the cock. She imagined the color contrast would be erotic as her black skin was not of the lighter variety. Tongue sticking out, it helped lick the shaft in different areas, trying to please the cock better than with her tiny mouth. Dark fingers caressed the ivory orbs that were fat as well, swelling with seed that needed to be released, consumed, and enjoyed.

Loud moans echoed in the background as the black cheerleader on the video now had the hefty cock stuffing her tight asshole. Fingers raked the desktop as pain and pleasure mixed together to create heaven on her face. The woman panted, begging to be fucked harder and harder. Each thrust caused her large tits to flop around as she was bent over the desk, still fully clothed, with her skirt lifted onto her butt.

Amanda looked on and wondered what it would like to be stuffed so full, to feel such a good fucking. She couldn't remember the last time she had sex, let alone good sex.

"Put it in," a voice called out from beyond the wall. "Go ahead and put it inside."

Amanda knew what he meant. He wanted her to stick it in her pussy. She slowly stroked him, thinking if it would be a good idea.

"Are you clean?" she asked, as there were no condoms nearby.

"Yeah, I'm clean, baby."

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Of course he'd say he was clean," she thought. "Fuck it. I need to get fucked."

"I've never done it this way before," she confessed. "Just, uh, hold still."

Lifting up her dress skirt to a similar position as the cheerleader in the film, she slipped her panties off. His cock was not the longest, making it harder for Amanda to find the right position. She was also not the most flexible girl, or had the smallest ass.

The wall felt warm as her bubble butt pushed against the wall. The lawyer did the best she could to push the cock inside her wanton, dripping pussy. Only an inch got in there. It was annoying that more shaft couldn't fit but the gaping thickness stoked the flames of passion nonetheless.

Slow, methodical movements let her fuck the mysterious white man. She did not want the wonderful cock to slip out of her pussy, grinding against the wall rather than rocking back and forth like she saw the professionals do with the long cocks in pornos.

Size aside, it turned her on so much to be a secret slut for white men. The black supremacist on her shoulder shouted out in horror and anger as the slut on her other shoulder won the battle for her mind.

"Do you...feel good?" she panted, grinding for all she was worth.

"Yeah, keep going. I'm going to cum soon. Don't pull out."

Amanda did as she was asked, grinding away at the man's fat cock, watching the kinky, racially charged video. Semen soon shot out and coated the opening of her cunt. He was not able to enter her deep enough to flood her womb, instead painting the doorway to the castle a creamy shade of white.

"Thanks," he groaned out.

"Wait," Amanda said, her slutty instincts taking over.

Before the man could retract his cock, Amanda kneeled down to clean up the head. She wanted to feast on all the sperm that hid in the fold of his uncut sheath. Fingers worked at fucking herself, pushing the present inside her pussy. What she was doing was so hot, and she felt like orgasming. She wanted to suck on more cocks, white cocks, and hoped one was long enough that she could fuck herself against it as hard as possible.