Dear Paul,
I wanted to write you to catch you up on my latest adventures. I know you're always eager for details, and I have some for this month I which I think you will enjoy reading about. Be sure and get somewhere private when you read this because you are going to be hot under the collar (among other places) with what I have to write!
Only a few close friends know about the freedom you've given me while you're deployed, and all envy it, even the ones who say they would never take advantage of it. So many other navy wives have to sneak around to get their needs met while their man is away, it would really blow their minds to not only have their old man's permission but to have him want all the horny details? Unheard of! While I've told some girlfriends about some of my escapades I've kept this one to myself.
I must admit, I was taken aback when you told me it was your fantasy to watch me get fucked by a black guy. I didn't suspect that would even be OK with you, let alone something that got you off. It is not something I ever thought much about, I grew up in the white suburbs of a nice southern community and there was very little interaction between blacks and whites there, and absolutely no dating that I ever heard of.
As I thought about it, my curiosity was aroused. I wondered what it would be like, if all those rumors about big cocks were true. The idea was titillating to me. There was something so decadent about it, so taboo, which I couldn't quite put my finger on.
I used the same website as before, only this time I browsed searching for black males. I found one that intrigued me from a black man who claimed to be a male stripper who did private parties. He had a hot body in his photo and we chatted a little on instant messenger. I made it clear I was looking for a little fun, no strings attached, my usual spiel. He really had a thing for blondes. He invited me to come over Wednesday night and see if we liked each other in person. I agreed to come down to his apartment.
He lived in the high-rise on Main St. I was excited and nervous, but a little more so than usual as I drove downtown. Walking through the parking lot in my short green skirt and tall high heels I wished I had not dressed so sexy, this was not a nice neighborhood and my attire was not easy to move quickly in. I took the elevator up to the top floor and knocked on his door.
He welcomed me in with a kiss on my hand. He was as handsome as his photo, dressed in jeans and a silk shirt. Both were tight and I could see the fit, muscled body from the photo through them. He had neat hair and his skin was a dark black, like Hershey's chocolate. He looked young but he had the quiet confidence of a much older man, I would guess him just under 40 although from a photo alone I'd say ten years younger than that.
He fixed us drinks and we talked a bit. He told me more about himself. He said the stripper bit was just code for the internet; that he in fact was a male prostitute and a pimp. I was entranced to listen to his stories. He talked of lonely, rich wives and widows who paid for his company, of freaky couples who paid to have threesomes with him...or more often husbands who watched or filmed him with their wives. Almost all his clients were white women.
He talked of the pimp game, how he used to have ladies who worked for him; Ladies both black and white who worked the streets and gave him the money that they sucked and fucked for. He had slipped away from that life and while there were things about it he missed he said he was happier now.
I asked him what was hard about it and he said "To be a good pimp you gotta be your best hoe". He explained the process of finding women, grooming them for the life, bringing them along. A pimp had to take care of his women, and that meant more that just providing a roof and protection. It meant bailing them out of jail and arranging for lawyers when they got caught. It meant keeping them running all the time, never slowing down in the chase for the money. It meant satisfying them sexually.
He said with a leering grin "Think about that, baby. This is a woman who fucks guys for a living, all night. They come home from that and you have to make them feel sexy, get them off. Not easy".
Hearing all this I was becoming very turned on. I asked him what would he do to me if I was one of his women, his whores. He told me first I would have to try out for him. Show him what kind of dick sucking skills I had. In the pimp-hoe game, sucking was the premium. "I'd make a fortune on your sweet little ass baby. Cute blonde little girl like you with that body..." We smiled and laughed.
He walked over to the couch where I was sitting and took my drink from me. My heart was beating hard and fast. He undid his pants in the front and pulled his cock out. It was already half hard, big and thick. I ran my hand up and down it gently. It was not veiny like yours, instead it was very smooth. It started to get harder. He cooed encouragements to me as I rubbed him.
I took his dick into my mouth and started to suck on it. It quickly stretched to its full length, 9 inches and hard as a rock, in my mouth. I licked it up and down and listened to him groan. I tasted the salty drips of pre cum from the tip.
"Yeah baby..now let's see you take it all.." he said sinking his hands into my hair. He pulled my head towards him and pushed with his hips, sticking his big tool as far into my throat as he could. I breathed through my nose and tried to relax my throat but he was so big....
He began to thrust, fucking my throat with his big hard cock. I only gagged a little bit, and when I did he would slow down to let me breathe. His hands were firm and I realized he could do anything he wanted to me. I delighted in the sensation. I wanted him to do anything he wanted with me.
