I'm Not Racist

The following story has themes of non-consent, raceplay, humiliation and other dark themes. If such content offends you, please do not read. This is an erotic FICTION story not meant as any sort of political or societal protest.

"Oh damn," I think to myself as the elevator door opens. I was hoping it would be empty as I hate riding with other people. Most of the time I luck out and can ride up to my floor alone, but not today.

A shiver of concern rolls down my back as I there's only one person inside the elevator, but he's a very large black man. And not the American sort of black man either, but the type that is from a foreign country. Could he be African? Is that even a country? Or is he Egyptian? Maybe Cuban. Those are where black men normally come from, right?

I become super nervous as I step into the elevator, making sure to give him a wide berth by going to the left. As a slender white woman, I know that I tend to be easy pickings for people like him. I mean, I weigh 110 pounds and am 5'2" while he must weigh like 250 and stand at least 6'2". For him, throwing me around would be a breeze. In fact, I could easily see him laughing while holding me down.

The black man is wearing a business suit, so he at least looks professional. He does gives me a polite smile, but I swear I see his eyes check me out. I know I did. I saw them look my entire body up and down, trying to see the shape of my curves. Sure, he did it on the sly, but he still did it.

I stay on my side of the elevator once I press the 15

th

floor button. That's when I notice he's going to the 35

th

floor. Why is he going up there? I think that's where the lawyer's offices are. Yeah, I'm sure of it. The top floors are rented out by all sort of lawyers.

On no! Is he a criminal? Is he meeting with his lawyer because he has to go on trial? Oh no. Oh dear. That's not good. That's not good at all. Could he be dangerous?

Before my breathing gets too wild, I tell myself to calm down. Sure, I am an attractive 35 year old, which is like visual candy to people like him, but that doesn't mean he is interested in me. After all, I'm not racist or anything. He could be a lawyer himself or something. Could be. I doubt it, but stranger things have happened. But as long as he doesn't do anything, then I'll know he's an ok person. Give everyone a chance...that's what I always say.

Neither of us say anything as the elevator goes upward like normal. I keep my arms crossed as well as hold onto my purse, just in case he gets any ideas. That way he won't be able to see the size of my C cup breasts, nor get the chance to take my purse. Out of sight, out of mind. I'm not saying he's going to do anything, but best not to tempt the Devil.

The elevator suddenly shakes violently for a moment, causing me to damn near fly into the forward wall. Then the elevator stops completely, launching me off my feet and forward due to the shaking.

I smack against where the buttons are, where I land on my knees. My head smacks against the wall but thankfully it's not that bad. My knees hurt from the landing, but they don't feel broken or anything. I think I'm ok.

As I start to get my senses, I look at the buttons in front of me. I do start to get a bit worried as I see that the buttons are all blinking, as if there's an issue with the electricity.

SHIT. The elevator isn't moving! I can feel it, not moving at all. It must have gotten stuck or something.

The overhead lights start to flicker, just like the buttons are. They flicker hard too, giving brief bouts of darkness which scares the hell out of me. And then the lights suddenly turn off all the way, leaving the elevator completely dark.

I let out a brief scream as I'm sure that the black man is going to attack me. But thankfully the emergency flood lights turn on, bathing the space in dim light. It gives enough light to see everything, to which I see that he's still not near me...but the elevator still isn't moving.

In my entire life, I've never felt the urge to panic like I do now. I fight hard against it as I know something's wrong with the elevator, but that panicking isn't going to help anything. But it's so easy to let my fear run off, just like my imagination is threating to do. Why did we stop? What's wrong with this thing? Why hasn't anyone tried to contact us? Are we going to drop?!

Then I remember the black man. Backing up to the corner, I turn to look at him, scared he might think this is his chance. I thought he was still standing for some reason, but he's not. In fact, it looks like he took a far worse bump than I did, probably due to his size.

He's on the floor of the elevator, on his knees as if he had to pick himself up. One of his hands is on the side of his head, as if that's the part that hit the hardest. Overall he looks a bit rocked, as if he took a bad blow. I think this because he has to use the handrail that's on all the walls to get back to his feet.

As if this is my worst nightmare, the black man stands all the way up and turns to look at me. He looks down at me where he no longer has that simple smile from when I entered. No. Now he now looks stern, maybe even upset. And it seems that it is directed at me.

"W-W-What?" I stammer out as he tells me something, but it's not in English. He speaks in a weird sounding language too, one that I've never heard. Yeah, I'm not a language person, but I for sure know that he's not speaking English, and that he's upset. Oh dear me, he sounds so pissed. Whatever he's saying sounds like grunts and yells, like he's telling me to do something.

"I...I don't know..." I try to tell him when the black man repeats whatever it is that he's saying, only he says it louder. Panic really does try to overtake me as my worst nightmare seems to be coming true. I'm stuck in an elevator with a possible criminal. With a possible rapist. Oh dear. Oh me.

My eyes widen as a thought I hadn't considered pops in my head. It's a thought born of my panic, but that's why it makes sense. Oh how it makes perfect sense. Did he do this? Did he plan this? Is he controlling the elevator somehow, like they do in the movies?

OH NO. Oh dear me. Was this his way of being able to sexually use me?! I've heard that's what men that look like him are after. That foreign black men will do anything to have a white women. That they will go to great lengths to have a taste. Well, it doesn't have to be men like him, but men period. All they want is sex. And they'll do anything to get it.

"I...I...I..." I stammer as the man starts to say something new. When he says it, he points to the ground, repeatedly. Now he paces back and forth, looking very much like a caged lion about to pounce. And as he speaks whatever language that is, he sounds so incredibly upset.

Seeing him point to the ground confirms my fear. He did plan this. He's behind this. He's here to sexually assault me, for he's telling me to get on my knees. He wants me to kneel in front of him. And when a man tells you to do that, there's only one reason. He wants oral pleasure and he wants it now.

"L-L-Look, just...just don't hurt me, ok? Please," I plead as I hold out both of my hands. Then, scared for my life, I step timidly towards him. As I do, he watches me carefully, or at least I think he is. The lighting is pretty dim which makes it hard to see his face, but I swear I can feel how upset he is.

Taking a deep breath, I kneel down. He watches me do this, no doubt smiling. As I am still a bit away, I'm forced to crawl on my knees. Then the bastard takes a step backward to press against the wall, making me walk even further towards him. This makes a brief wave of humiliation move over as he's showing that he's in control by making me crawl like this to him.

Trembling, my hands reach out towards his belt once I'm close enough. Right as I do this, he barks something at me. Once again, it sounds so upset. It sounds like he's yelling at me. And I think I know why. Any time that I'm done oral pleasure for anyone, they always made me, well, expose myself. That is what he must be yelling. That I'm not just to give him oral pleasure, but he wants to see my tits swing as I do.

"Fine. I'll do it, ok? Just don't hurt me," I tell him, unable to look up at him. Turning my head to the side I reach for the top of my sundress. Then, with a deep breath, I pull down on the front. I pull slowly so I don't rip my collar, exposing more and more of my cleavage. And then both of my milky white breasts come out as I wasn't wearing a bra. Once both pop out of dress, I let go.

My face turns bright red as my tits are now exposed for this horrible black man. My gosh, I can feel his eyes staring at them, probably thinking he's never seen a white woman's tits before in person. Oh please, just don't let him touch them. Don't let him lick them. Don't let him do anything to them.

Knowing I better do this before he tries anything, I reach my hands up and to his belt. I've never been so nervous to do this as I pull on his belt to undo it as fast as I can. On purpose I move as fast as I can, so to not give him any time to try and touch me. My hands then quickly unbutton his dress pants.

His hands move around now, sending panic over me. I just know he's going to lean over and take both of my tits in his huge hands. He'll manhandle them and laugh as he does. So I grab the waistband of both his pants and boxers and tug down before he can bring his hands around.

The largest cock I've ever seen in my life comes out. And it's not even hard. It hands there limp for the most part but getting harder and longer very quickly. I'm so taken back by it that all I can do is stare for a second. Then I shake my head as I see his hands starting to move again.

Moving fast, my small hands reach out to grab his cock. One hand grabs it by the base while the other grabs it close to the tip. When I grab it, I feel how warm it is, and how heavy. I didn't even know cocks could be like this. It seems more like a sex toy you would buy at one of those dirty sex stores than a cock.

I'm forced to open my mouth very wide as I lean forward. With another deep breath, I take his cock into my mouth. When I do, the large black man gasps and then shudders, his hands moving back to grab the handrails.

It feels like I'm barely able to get any of his black cock inside my mouth as it's so long, but I close my lips around it all the same. I make sure to at least get his cock head in my mouth, as I know that's the most sensitive part. Not to brag, but I've given quite a few BJ's in my time and now what I'm doing.

I move my mouth down his shaft while my hands jerk him off at the same time, slowly. Again I can't go very deep on him before I can feel his cock go far into my mouth. So I pull back, sucking hard as I do, making sure I do a good job so he doesn't do anything

Forcing myself to keep moving, I go down on him again, trying to make myself go deeper each time before he gets mad. Each time I go down his hardening cock, I get more of him in my mouth. It takes about 6 or 7 tries before he gets very hard. He's so hard it almost feels like my hands are holding steel. And because of this, I start to push his cock so deep inside that his hard cock hits the back of my mouth.

I always thought a black man's cock would taste different, but he doesn't. It takes, like, well, cock. Just that normal fleshy taste. Not sure what I thought it would taste like, if it would be spicy or something, but he's not. It's like any other cock I've had, only much, much larger and longer.

Like a whore, I suck this black man's cock while on my knees. I get a good rhythm as I do it, wanting to make sure he enjoys it so he doesn't do anything worse to me. My closed lips trail over his massive member while I constantly suck hard, knowing that I need to be harder than normal since he's so large. And to make extra sure he enjoys it, I go faster than I normally go, just so he can see my breasts swing and jiggle from all the movement. I even add in a little shake so they jiggle harder as I know it's what he wants to see.

Another thing that surprises me is that he doesn't grab my head or hair. All the guys that I've ever done this to would take handfuls of my hair and force my head down on them. Or as they would say, they would face-fuck me. This black man doesn't. Instead he just leans back against the wall, his hands grabbing the handrails as he enjoys it.

Worried he might not be enjoying this enough, I force myself to go even deeper than I ever have on him. Of all the guys I've ever given head to, I've never tried to, well, deep-throat them like I do with him. When I force my head to take him in, I gag myself. The first and second time I nearly vomit from doing it, but after that I'm able to suppress the feeling. I get to the point I can actually take the head of his cock all the way into my throat, even if it doesn't go that far. As I do this, drool comes out of my mouth and lands on my breasts, no doubt making them look shiny in the dim light.

Whomever my rapist is, loves this. Each time I take him into my throat he moans and his large body shudders. In a way it feels like I'm the one in control and not him. So I keep doing what I'm doing, trying to take more and more of him in my throat. I know that if I can make him cum, he'll most likely leave me alone. That I'll be safe. That he won't want anything else.

"W-W-What?" I try to answer him when he says something, but it comes out garbled as I try to say this with his large cock in my mouth. But I do look up at him, his cock still in my mouth. He again says something in that grunty, angry language.

I pull his manhood out of my mouth and ask again, to which he repeats whatever he's saying for a third time. Getting to do this to his cock made me forget how scared I was. But now that I'm no longer doing it, fear easily creeps back to me, reminding me of the danger I'm in. My fear almost turns to panic when I hear how forceful and upset he sounds, like he's commanding me.

"Oh, no. No. Please. Not that," I beg, as without thinking I keep jerking him off with my hands. He replies to what I said, but I have no clue what he is saying, but I'm sure I get the point. Oral pleasure, or even pleasure with my hands isn't going to be enough for him.

Knowing this, I lower my head as I'm filled with humiliation. I had hoped giving him a blowjob would make him cum so he would be happy. But no. I can tell he wants more. He wants what he's never had...and that's white pussy. Isn't that what all black men want?

With a red face, I stand up while still jacking him off. As I do, I find I still can't look up at him, even if he is staring at me. Or should I say, staring at my wet tits. For they feel like they are so pale that they reflect the dim light in here, making sure you can see them clearly.

I then do something extremely embarrassing. Something I haven't done since college. I lift up my dress and reach under me. With my dress pulled all the way up, I then pull down my panties.

My panties fall to my ankles where my womanhood feels so very exposed. As I stand here, I feel how this whole event has made me feel a lot of new feelings, so my poor womanhood is confused. I feel it tingle and throb with arousal, as if it wants sex. But it doesn't know it's not going to be with a real lover but with a black man rapist.

The black man says something else now, but it's a short statement. To this I nod my head as I know what he's asking for. It lets me know that all men are the same as more than one man has asked for the same thing. And so, I step out of my panties completely, then proceed to hand them over for him to take.

I don't know why guys love to take panties, but they do. No doubt to keep them like an award or trophy. I've must have given away at least a dozen panties over the past few years as guys want to claim them.

The black man humiliates me further as he doesn't take them. His hands stay on the handrails, telling me without words that I'm to put my own panties into his pocket. What a bastard. What a fucking bastard.

Doing as he wants, I ball up my panties and then reach out to him. I then bring them to his dress shirt pocket, where I stuff them inside. To make sure they don't fall out, where he'll no doubt make me pick them up, I use my fingers to stuff them deep in his pocket.

Not wanting to give him time to demand more, I turn around. In yet another humiliating act, I lift my dress again until it goes over my back. When I do this, I know he can see my bare white ass. My shapely and small tight ass which I fight hard to keep.

Now I bend over all the way while backing up towards him. My hands move between my legs where I reach for his cock to get started. I grab hold of his hard member, where I'm again surprised by how large it is. Did it grow in the short time I stopped sucking it? I think it might have. I know it's really not, but to feel it is to feel an unopened tall boy beer can.

"There...there....there we go," I say as he makes me do all the work. I'm forced to guide and position his cock to the opening to my pussy. The bastard is making me rape myself. That's what this is after all. But still, it could be worse. He could be pinning me to the ground and pounding me like a wild animal.

I've had sex countless times in my life. No, I don't have a boyfriend or husband at the moment, but I've had plenty in my life. But none of my lovers feel like he does. None make me feel like my pussy is small, like this guy's cock does. It's such a weird feeling. In fact, the most common thing guys have said is how tight my pussy is, how it's so easy to cum in me because my pussy is so good.

I winch and groan as I work the head of his cock inside my warm hole. In a first for me, I have to use my other hand to part my own pussy to get his cock to go in. And then I push my body weight backward, so my pussy starts to take his cock in. I do this almost like I'm trying to sit on him, but with the two of use standing.

I whimper and moan as his massive cock starts to stretch my pussy. But I keep going, feeling how his cock-head pushes my pussy apart, forcing it's way in me. I have to go very slow when I do this, because I can feel every like thing about his cock. Every ridge, bump, edge, crest and more. He's just so large.

The black man groans loudly as my pussy takes more and more of his cock. I have to admit I moan too. But it's not exactly from pleasure. It's more from being overwhelmed, like his cock is so large my sensitive pussy is overloaded, thus producing pleasure. I've just never had anything so large inside my sex, not even a sex toy.

I keep backing up on his cock, forcing it to go deeper and deeper in me. It then reaches the point where nothing has ever gone so far. It goes so deep inside my pussy that it reaches the point no dick or sex toy ever has. Feeling this stuns me for a moment as it feels so odd. It's both violating, yet awesome. Like there's a secret world that I didn't know existed. A world that I want to experience.

"Oh gosh, oh gosh," I start to repeat as I force myself go keep pushing back on his cock. My pussy is so tight that I have to get rough in which I put a good deal of pressure to keep it going inside me. It makes me so sensitive and overwhelmed that my eyes start to roll with the blissful feeling. Waves of sensitive pleasure move over me from this, causing me to try hard not to break down and cum.

And then the black man grabs my hips. When he does, I feel myself go very submissive. Like my body wants him to do this. That I want to be raped by his black cock. That my small white pussy deserves it.

He pushes my hips forward, making me gasp as his cock starts to slide out of me. My pussy grips onto him, making me roll my eyes all over. When I feel that he's nearly out of me, I push my ass back, to take him in all over again.