Society's forbidden rules and customs change, but human sexual needs and yearnings don't. Men, women, black, white, lust, control and sexual desire are unchanging variables that endure.
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Note -- This story contains interracial sex, domination, submission, reluctance, forced sex and maybe a few other things you won't like. Enjoy.
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I think I had always had a thing for black women. Since I was old enough to recognize the pleasure a thick hard cock could give and receive, to say nothing of the more subtle sexual differences between black and white women. I know my Daddy like black women too. It was the 1920s in the South, and regardless of social expectations, he'd much rather have fucked a black woman than a white one any day. Whenever, wherever, it didn't matter, in his office, his bedroom, the barn, the stable or even his old pickup truck. There was nothing he enjoyed more than sliding his thick white cock into a warm, tight piece of black pussy.
It's ironic, but even though Daddy was the Chief of Police, the guardian of the peace, though he didn't see what he was doing as such, he consistently used his position and misplaced authority to sexually intimidate and victimize black women and poor white women alike. Many of the women liked and even encouraged his attentions, but a few didn't, and he derived a perverse satisfaction from convincing those "reluctants" to cooperate and spread their legs for him. The funny thing is that after a while, even these women seemed to like it.
My name is Martin Lathrop; this story is about my Daddy, Police Chief Bobby Lathrop, and a black girl. Her name was Sudie. There was definitely something between them, exactly what I don't know. Daddy was a lot older than Sudie, white, married, a member of the Klan, and the Chief of Police. Whatever the attraction, it wasn't love; I think it was more akin to a strong, physical, sexual need that sometime exists between a man and a woman.
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I'll never forget the first time I saw Daddy riding her; it was back in the heyday of the Ku Klux Klan in our area when most black people were fearful of the Klan and bent unquestioningly to its will and threat.
This one particular night there had been a large cross burning rally, and though I wasn't a member, at my Daddy's insistence, I had accompanied him to the rally. By the time the rally concluded, the members were full of liquor and fired up with unexpended energy. He told me to go on home, and I watched as he and a few others piled into their old cars and trucks and headed off. Curious about what they had planned, I followed him and a couple of his Klan brothers out to the old sharecropper's shack where Uncle Jimmy and his daughter Sudie lived. When Daddy and his cronies showed up in the middle of the night with their guns and white robes, of course, the old man and the girl where terrified. Daddy told his Klan brothers to stay outside with the old man, and he took the girl back into the house. I parked my car, went around unseen to the back of the house, and trying to be quiet, crouched low, and stared through the dirty, cracked window. What I saw shocked me at first, but I couldn't take me eyes away; there was my Daddy with his white Klan robe bunched up around his waist and his cock hard and thick pounding the girl Sudie's sweet black pussy. He had her bent over the back of an old sofa and was grunting like a crazed bull while she humped back and forth on his dangerous looking cock.
"Say it! Say it," Daddy kept repeating, but it was obvious the girl didn't want to say whatever it was. Daddy reached around and twisted her nipple making her cry out in pain.
"Say what I told you to say," he demanded, forcing the girl to relent finally. Sudie started calling him Bobby, and telling him, "yeah, like that! Go ahead, take it! You know it belongs to you." The next thing I knew, Daddy was growling and slapping her ass as he pumped his cum into her.
As inexperienced with women, as I was at the time, I could sense from her demeanor, the soft, sensual sound of her voice the enjoyment and eagerness for the situation and for what Daddy was doing to her. When he finished, he stood up, and his robe dropped down in front of him. I could see an obvious wet place where his dripping cock had soaked through and left a big cum stain on his white robe. What really surprised me was when Daddy took his hood off (he had fucked her with it on) and kissed Sudie dead on her mouth, his tongue invading her mouth, making wet slurping sounds. "You little black bitch, who does this belong to?" He demanded as he reached down between her legs, roughly grabbed and squeezed her pussy.
"Ouch, Bobby, she whimpered, that hurts."
"You know it belongs to you, just you," she said shyly as if embarrassed to say it out loud.
"It'd better belong to me," he said as he rubbed her clit, eliciting a soft, sensual moan from her.
Daddy stood looking at her with a look in his eyes I don't ever remember him having had for Momma. He continued to fondle Sudie, "Hell you know I'd probably beat the shit out of you and him if I ever found out you were fucking somebody else," he said threateningly.
"Oh, Bobby you're too good to Daddy and me; I'd never do anything like that . . . never." Obviously, this was not the first time he had been with her.
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After that night, I would follow him occasionally. He did everything to her, things that I knew he would never have even suggested to my mother, even if he were still regularly fucking her.
He liked tying Sudie's hands and feet and eating her pussy. He'd have her spread eagle on the bed and get between her legs licking and sucking until he'd make her cum over and over. She'd lay there, calling his name, "Oh Bobby, yes Bobby, like that . . . like that, Bobby," telling him how big he was, how good he made her feel until she was too weak to cum anymore. She'd have the bastard so worked up he'd be on the brink of exploding, his cock so red and swollen that it probably hurt. When he had had his fill of eating her, Daddy would pull himself up her slick, body, shove his cock inside her hot pussy, and start stroking between her smooth brown thighs. As I watched, I would sometimes wish I were in the room with them so I could see, hear and smell everything that was happening. Imagining what it would be like close up to watch his long, thick tool abuse her young, tight pussy. I wondered what it would be like to slide my cock into her . . . would it be hot, wet, grasping? Would she call my name the way she did Daddy's name?
I remember once watching them together, aroused but disgusted at the sight of his large, pale white body stroking between her beautiful legs as she lay there submissively, and in a barely audible voice sheepishly asked him not to cum inside her. "I won't, don't worry," he said with a gruff, patronizing laugh. It didn't take him long before he started pounding her hard and deep until he erupted, spewing and filling her unprotected pussy with his thick, creamy semen.
I felt sorry for her; my Daddy could be a son of a bitch.
Their relationship intensified the year before I went away to college. It was as if Daddy couldn't get enough of Sudie, and his obsession with having her, when he wanted her, where he wanted her was made crystal clear to me the day I dropped by the Police Station unannounced. Without thinking, I barged into his office and stopped in my tracks. There he was with his pants down around his ankles and Sudie with her blouse open and breasts exposed, her hair in disarray, on her knees in front of him enthusiastically sucking his dick. I stood there dumbfounded, becoming aroused as I watched and listened to her making wet, eager sounds as her head bobbed up and down on his swollen dick. He had apparently forgotten to lock the door. He looked up and saw me. "Get out and lock that fucking door!" He shouted, never once stopping his thrusting into Sudie's red lipsticked mouth.
I hurried out, and after maybe five minutes, Sudie came out of the office her beautiful face glowing and an embarassed look in her eyes.
I walked into his office and found Daddy seated behind his desk, looking quite pleased with himself, slowly smoking a cigarette. He looked up and seeing me, said "Don't you ever come in here without knocking . . . do you understand me, boy?"
"Yes, sir," I replied.
"Good," he said giving me a sly, lecherous smirk, "now what is it you wanted to see me about anyway?"
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