Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of completely fictional incest or fictional incest content.
*****
This story is the property of its author, H. K. Smythe.
Any unauthorized reproduction or reprint without the express authorization of the author is strictly prohibited.
The Powers
Part I. The Powers Meet the Nigerians
Harry and Henri Powers were not exactly a power couple, but they had aspirations. Harry Powers was an Architectural Associate for an exclusive Los Angeles architecture firm. He had two things going for him, a partner in the firm was the father of a fraternity brother, and he had obtained his architectural degree from University of Southern California. Henri Powers was a sales associate for a high-dollar real estate firm. Similarly, one of the partners in her firm was the mother of a sorority sister, and she had a degree in real estate design from USC.
They had met at a function between her sorority and his fraternity, and before the night was out, they had sampled what each had to offer and found it very good indeed. They soon became an item, and ultimately Harry proposed to Henri, formerly Henrietta McBride.
The nature of their upcoming marriage was somewhat determined when at a Saturday night party between their engagement and marriage, Henri informed Harry that she wanted to go home with a basketball player, and that unless he strongly objected, she would see him in the morning. Harry told her that if that was what she wanted, he would see her in the morning. He was a little disappointed but went with the flow. He still wanted to marry her even if it was clear she would be less than completely faithful to her marriage vows.
After their marriage and almost simultaneous graduations, they lived for a while in their student days University area apartment. With a bit of luck Henri had found them a place in the Hollywood Hills and through their contacts, they were able to get deals on sales expense as well as a favorable mortgage.
Their new home, although small, had a pool with fantastic views of Hollywood and downtown Los Angeles. They enjoyed hanging out by the pool, usually nude after dark, although their patio/pool area was visible from homes higher in the hills.
Henri soon established herself as a force within the firm, partially through her contacts, partially through the force of her personality, and partially through her willingness to go the extra mile in helping a colleague close a sale. This last attribute was significantly contributed to by her large natural mammaries and equally significant caboose. Statistically this was evidenced as 36D-23-35.
Harry was also quite attractive, enhanced by the fitness obtained by early morning visits to a gym. Although less of an issue, he was also known for going the extra mile if it helped with client relations. Both were also aided by their spouses' relevant knowledge. Henri was always aware of the availability of highly desirable properties attractive to architectural clients, while Harry was a treasure trove of information on the architectural characteristics of existing homes, and the architectural possibilities of raw plots of land.
Things seemed to go along smoothly for the couple until the Nigerians came to town. Abiola Adeoye, just call me Bola, was an uber-wealthy Nigerian with interests in oil and other profitable commercial ventures. His beautiful wife, Bebi, short for Abebi, was almost the black counterpart of Henri. Henri was given the task of convincing Bola to deal solely with her firm for a planned residential purchase. She asked Harry to join her since the wife would be joining them for dinner. It was unusual for Harry to be directly involved in her business, but he was more than happy to oblige.
Henri
Bola was a large, black man. Reasonably good looking although he had become portly as he advanced toward middle age. Bebi was a darling. I hit it off with her even more than with Bola although it became apparent fairly early in the evening that Bola wanted time alone with me. Harry and Bebi seemed to be getting along quite well. After dinner, we went dancing in a club. Bebi and I both got offers to dance but we both refused all comers except for Harry and Bola. Harry was an excellent dancer and Bola moved very well for what I guessed was a three hundred pound plus man. By one, we were all feeling the effects of several hours of drinking and as far as I could tell the others were feeling almost as frisky as I was.
It was decided that Harry would show Bebi our place in the hills, while Bola wanted to go over some papers and flyers he had in their hotel room. In his hotel room, he prepared me a glass of wine and we sat beside each other on a sofa in the living area of his massive suite. After a few sips of wine, he looked at me eye to eye and then grabbed my boobs.
I was a little surprised, but pleasantly, and soon he was trying to stick his large tongue down my throat. He had that desirable capability of making it seem as though your clothes were magically melting off of you. In a few minutes I was down to my panties, and he only retained his shirt. I was ready but then was surprised to see a ten-inch monster that was very thick pop up between his legs.
I quickly slipped out of my panties and kneeled between his legs to see what I could do with his massive organ. I had never seen one quite so large and I knew I was going to be challenged orally and vaginally, forget about anally. One of my skills acquired in college was deep throating and so I was able to take most of his thing in my mouth and throat without issues. The last two inches was a little bit difficult but by relaxing my throat and breathing through my mouth I was able to handle the whole damn thing. He waited for me to do all the work, so I began bobbing up and down on his incredible male organ. His moans and groans told me I was doing well. He had shown his appreciation by playing with my boobs, especially my nipples, so I was enjoying this almost as much as he was.
I continued until I felt the signs of impending ejaculation; then I withdrew until his head was in my mouth. He then began shooting and shooting and shooting. I tried my best to swallow as fast as he shot, but it was impossible to hand the volume. This was complicated by my experiencing a quite nice orgasm. We looked at each other and smiled. Then we laughed. His white teeth against his black skin and lips left an indelible impression on me.
I went to work cleaning his magnificent instrument of feminine joy. He spoke the first intelligible word of the last five or ten minutes, saying, "Bed!" We moved into one of the suite's bedrooms. He took one side of the bed covers and top sheet and I took the other and we quickly stripped the bed. I lay on the bed and spread my legs and expectantly awaited the entry of the largest cock I had experienced so far in my young life.
I was not disappointed when his next contact with my cunt was the largest tongue I had ever seen. He not only had a huge tongue, but he knew what to do with it, working my labia, clit, and the opening to my tunnel of love over thoroughly. It was no surprise when I came hard in what I think was less than two minutes.
Next, he showed me that like a symphony conductor, he knew how to use his fingers and tongue in a concert of repeated screaming orgasms. He let me have a few moments to regain my composure and normal breathings. I had had more orgasms than I had ever had in a single session, and I still had ten inches of feminine desire yet to touch my expectant pussy.
He lined the monster up with my poor little cunt and then rubbed up and down between my labia. He didn't need to do that because I was so ready. I had heard the urban legends about magnificent black cocks, and this appeared to my chance to find out if the reality equaled the hype. For such a big man, he was very gentle at first. My best description is that he bumped the entrance to my love tunnel until he was able to start the head in. After that the next six or seven inches went in smoothly. It was heavenly, I had the twin sensations of the sliding friction between his cock and my vaginal walls, plus the sensation of being filled and slightly stretched. I think he was only in about eight inches when I had my first delicious orgasm. At this point, he withdrew a half foot or so, and then went deeper. He repeated and this time he hit my cervix, and my increasing arousal became my second vaginal orgasm, which was even stronger than the first. He then began ramming it home at a moderate pace and with a few minutes, I climaxed even harder than the first two. This was developing into the best night of my life.
The burly black bastard decided that we should change positions every time one of us orgasmed. So, we went through a catalog of sexual positions, missionary, doggy, flatiron, temple left, temple right, triangle left, triangle right, ballet dancer, standing prison guard, kneeling prison guard, and crab. It seemed that each of my climaxes was more intense than the one before. I am sure there were more positions, before finally, the asshole filled my vagina with his cum. I was exhausted but feeling the most filled with erotic pleasure ever. I was having small after spasms, in part because of my mental review of what we had just done.