How A Pen Wrote Me Off For Good!byClarissaS©
Thank you everyone for all the feedback from my first submission! There were so many it would be impossible to reply in detail to you all. A kiss to you all, and here is the tale that so many have asked me for, the true story of my first ever time with a Black Man.
There is a lot of travelling involved in my job, I have to visit lots of my company’s stores and check that everything is running as per company instructions. I enjoy my job, I enjoy meeting lots of new people, and solving problems, and being constantly challenged to perform. There is a lot of responsibility in my job, I have to play hardball sometimes, disciplining, and being on top of things. Here is how I found out that sometimes I like to let that strong side of me slip, and let someone else take over……
The store I visited that day is one of our better ones, well run, profitable and clean. I like this store a lot, only one thing displeased me about the place. The store manager, Marcus. Oh, don’t get me wrong, he’s efficient, bright and good at his job. He’s polite and very personable. So what was upsetting me? Very simple, he ignored me!! I don’t mean he ignored what I had to say, or ignored the points that I as area manager brought, but that he ignored me as a woman. I am sure you girls know what I mean, we always notice when we are being looked at. My breasts are not big, but men look, my legs are good (I wear short skirts) and they ALWAYS get looked at. But not Marcus. He never looked, never glanced, never made me feel anything else but his area manager, not the sexy vibrant woman I craved (at times) to be seen as.
Was he gay? Well, I had heard stories that some of the female representative that visited the store had been seen in other places with him…… and other stories told me that more than one of the shop’s assistants had spent quality time with him. So it must be just me!
Now as I implied, Marcus is black. And I had never “gone” black. Not from prejudice, more from ……. Well, it just never happened. Its not as if I was a blushing virgin when I got married, nor had my husband been the only one who had sampled my horizontal delights. But none of them were black, or Asian, or anything other than true blue white Englishmen. My marriage was now in its terminal decline, and I had strayed a couple of times in the proceeding months, but black had not entered my sights because…………because it had not. Oh, I had heard all those rumours about size, and I totally put it down to that, a rumour. So whilst I found Marcus attractive, I was not actively pursuing him. Ok?
This particular day came about because of one of the company’s regular panics. Budget figures wanted yesterday, performance targets wanted last week……… so when I got to Marcus’s store, it was already near closing time and it meant we had to put some time in after the store was closed, working on the figures.
I waited in the store office, looking through the initial figures as Marcus closed the shop up. Have I told you about Marcus? This was about five years ago, so at the time, he was 27, I was 32. He’s not overly tall, maybe just on six foot, slim, kinda like a taller version of Prince? (but without the hair) Sharp dresser, always in a good suit, immaculate manners, graduate. I have to admit…….. as he walked out of the office, my eyes were drawn to his arse…… tight and very pinchable!
He came back, the store in semi darkness, and the stores books were produced, pencils, pens, calculators etc. I work with figures all the time, so do store managers, working out the new budgets and targets was not so much difficult, more time consuming and laborious. As we worked together at his desk, we kept bumping our hands into each others, or as we reached for things. His suit jacket was off, and he had rolled up his sleeves. I had taken off my business suit jacket, and was in a rather nice short sleeved blouse, one that fastened and wrapped over slightly. It was white, and my skirt was dark grey, and I had dark grey three inch heels on, with white stockings. I wore my marks and sparks knickers, plain cotton ones……..and a matching white bra, front fastening. That day, I had swept my hair into a pony tail.
For some reason, I could feel a sexual tension growing. Whist we worked, our hands met, our arms bumped up against each other, and we smiled and apologised, my pussy was overheating……. My nipples were starting to bore little holes in the soft fabric of the bra, and then the blouse. Our legs brushed against each other as we sat, I could feel the heat rising………. As we worked, and I noticed this more in retrospect than at the time, he started to control how we worked through the details, got me to hand things to him, even to move to the filing cabinet and get things from it. I have to admit….. as I bent to open the bottom drawer, I kept my ankles together, and bent from the waist…….. I wanted to show him that I was a woman, and that I deserved to be acknowledged as such. I knew my skirt would ride up my thighs, and show an expanse of thigh. But that’s what I wanted.
The catalyst to my undoing was at first glance quite innocuous. Marcus dropped a pen on the floor, and as it rolled, the effort to retrieve it was more easily done by me. He told me to (told, not asked, ordered me) to get it. I got out of my seat in a flash, and had to bend, kneel to get at it….. as I did so, then started to rise, I felt Marcus’s hand on the top of my head, staying me. “No girl, stay down there”
I took in a sharp intake of breath. How dare he!! Not only was he ordering me around, me, his boss, me a strong independent woman, but he had the temerity to put his hand on my body without permission!! I’d show him that he could NOT get away with such behaviour.
Yeah? Well if his actions were so disgusting me, why was I still kneeling, pussy shooting signals all through my body, heart thumping, and an overwhelming feeling of being in my rightful place?
In the silence, there were two sounds that penetrated through to me. One was my heart which seemed so loud, the other was a metallic one…….. Marcus drawing the zip down on his trousers. I gulped……
Marcus moved his hand a little, till he took a hold of my ponytail, twisting it in his grip and pulling up…… bringing my head up so that my gaze fell onto his proud erect penis. I fell in love right there. When I saw the shiny ebony pole, long, thick, veined, uncut, head like a plum…… I could feel any attempt to protest vanish from my senses. The hand in my hair pulled me forward, till my lips were bare centimetres away from the new object of my desire. In his soft low unforced tones Marcus gave me a two word command “blow me”. I licked my lips…. Inched forward just a tiny bit more on my knees, and extended my tongue. Twirling my tongue around the head before slowly moving my lips forward to engulf the magnificent specimen in my mouth. Filling my salivating oral cavity with gorgeous, thick, uncut and throbbing black cock.
For the second time in my married life……… ok, the third……. Well, maybe the fourth…….. ok, ok!! For the fifth time in my married life I was sucking a cock that was not my husband’s. But nothing before had felt like this. My lips encircled the thickness, feeling how it was both hard and soft at the same time. Sliding my lips down the thick ebony pole, tongue searching out every nuance of it, every vein and bump of the object filling my mouth. I knew I must be doing a good job when I heard Marcus take in a sharp intake of breath…… tighten the hold he had in my hair, and say “good girl…… you’ve been wanting that for a while, haven’t you baby? Hmm? Like sucking on my black dick?”
I paused from my task to take my lips away for a brief second, and looking up at him, into his eyes. Right at that moment, I swear, right at that moment I knew I had found my place in life. The quiet authorative way that Marcus had controlled me up to now, the feeling that overwhelmed me as I knelt and sucked on his cock…… the sheer intensity of the blackness that was him….. all of that combined to show me that the aching void inside me was about to be filled. I looked up into those dark brown eyes and was barely able to express my agreement. Yes, this was what I wanted. Yes, I loved sucking black dick, his black dick. I was able to let out a murmured “yes……. I love your dick, I love sucking your big black dick” The overwhelming feeling was how, as I performed this act, how feminine I felt, how this was the perfect Ying and Yang, submissive white female, Dominant Black Male. Perfect harmony.
Marcus took the opportunity to stand, and step out of his trousers and his boxer shorts, then sit back on the chair, thighs spread wide and invite me to continue my oral duties. I hungrily shuffled into place and like a starving woman fell on the dark meat that protruded from Marcus’s groin. My lips and mouth and tongue working together to suckle and feed from the black monster. My fingers slid up along his thighs, stroking the flesh before finding his balls and one hand weighed them, they were like hens eggs, filled with cum, cum I wanted to taste, cum I craved. My left hand (the one with my wedding ring on it) wrapped around the shaft as I pumped the thick long pole, and RAMMED my head down the shaft. Holding there for a moment as I gagged a little, then drew my lips back…….. all the way to the end before SLAMMING back down, filling my throat with wonderful black cock. I was a bitch in heat, with only one thought on my mind, and that was to give Marcus the best blowjob he had ever had.
I flicked my tongue, I sucked the head, I licked the shaft, I tongued his balls, I took it into the back of my throat, I gave that cock a thorough oral examination!! My hands worked on the shaft and on his balls, I was so determined to have him cum in my mouth.
But if I thought I had any say in what was going to happen, I was soon shaken of that theory. Marcus tightened the grip in my blonde pony tail, and standing from his chair, with my hair tight in his hand, he proceeded to SLAMM his cock into my mouth. Using my hair as his grip, he proceeded to fuck my face. I tried to rise from my place on my knees, but his sheer strength kept me in place, I was backed against the desk, and he used his strength to keep me there as he raped my throat. Well…… not rape, because in the main I was absolutely loving it! I gazed up at him as he pummelled my mouth. I gripped his hips for support, and felt my heart beating faster and faster. He was getting very verbal now. “you dirty little white CUNT!! You fucking love this, you need this as much as you need air. I am going to make you DROWN in my cum, you dirty ho!!”
That was another discovery, how hot I get when a guy talks “dirty” when he verbally humiliates me. I could feel my pussy was flowing freely, my head ready to explode, and then with a final PUSH into my throat, he held my head steady and started to PUMP his cum into my throat. I know it’s a cliché, but there seemed to be gallons of it. I swallowed, I was used to swallowing, but nothing like this vast quantity, I seemed to be gulping and gulping as he kept pounding into my mouth, bruising my lips, making my throat ache, but at the same time making my heart and soul sore. Some of it leaked round the shaft and dripped out of the side of my mouth……. Onto my blouse, but I got most of it down my throat!!
Then he slowly pulled from my throat and mouth……. I gulped in air, thankful to be able to breathe again, but a tiny drop of cum was still on the very tip of his cock, and leant forward to lick it off…… mmmmm, god, so tasty!!
For some strange reason, I felt more than a little embarrassed at what had occurred. But Marcus was very matter of fact. He sat back down in his chair, and looked at me, his eyes boring into my soul. “so what you got to say to me now boss lady?”
I stammered a little……. His gaze was so penetrating…….. I knew that my life had forever changed……. But what was I to say…….. then I realised what it was…… “Th…thank you….. thank you”
“That’s thank you Sir, got it girl?”
I flushed…. “yes Sir, thank you Sir”
He smiled. “Now be a good girl and go to the canteen and make us some coffee, we still have work to do here”.
That smile was like winning an award, like finding the holy grail, it filled me with such joy! I got my arse in gear, hived off to the canteen and made a pot of coffee, and brought it back on a tray. I took the opportunity to go to the rest room, and make myself look less like I had just been facefucked!!
When I got back to the office, Marcus was working on the figures, and I fell back into that routine as we sipped our coffee, almost as if nothing had ever happened. It took us about another hour to finish our work, and I put my copies into my briefcase and stood up and went to put my suit jacket back on. Marcus reached out and took my hand……. “no girl, time for round two” He pushed, prodded and pulled me into a prone position, bent face down over the desk……. His strong hands slid up along the sides of my legs, and pushed my skirt up around my waist. My underwear soon disappeared, and he SMACKED my arse “I don’t EVER want to find you wearing knickers again, understand bitch? “
I blushed and nodded my assent “yes Sir, I understand you”
He spanked me again, twice on each cheek, I bit my lip and found his abuse to be so charged, making my pussy cream……… “open your thighs bitch, lift your arse”
I spread myself over the desk, and lifted my arse…tottering on my high heels. White self support stocking clad thighs spread as wide a I could manage, I could feel the coolness waft over my pubic area. “and get this fucking bush shaved off as well, keep it clean and free of hair”
I felt his fingers tugging at my blonde pubic hairs, emphasising his words, then a finger wormed its way into me, quite easily, I was leaking so much, I was so slick that his finger, then a second finger slid into me with ease. He spread me open with practiced ease, with assuredness. Then slowly he started to slide his erection into me…… having primed me with his fingers, his cock was entering me….. I bit my bottom lip, feeling the dark ebony pole that I had so recently slavered over was now entering my pussy, fucking me, making me really his. His hands settled onto my hips and he started to pump back and forth, his cock spearing me open.
I felt the strength of him, felt his power, felt how it was because of his Dominance, and yes….. because of his Blackness that I wished to give myself to him. This was what I was for, the fuckpiece for a Dominant Black Male. I wanted to spread myself open for him at any time, open my mouth to suckle on his glorious black manhood, feed from my Master. Feel the wonderful freedom of submission.
His hands slid up over my upper torso, along the outside of my attire, broad hands roaming over the bulge of my breasts………. Then sought out my exquisitely tailored blouse, and PULLED it open, buttons pinging off in all directions as he freed my bra covered breasts. The bra was my usual white half cup, front fastening, and he soon found the catch and freed my breasts to the air. As the air rushed over them my nipples responded swiftly, erecting to give yet another sign of my so obvious arousal. His thumb and finger found both nipples, and pinched, rolling them in the digits, sending shooting pains through my body, to my well filled cunt, and making my stomach ache with need. Never had I felt such a pounding. Bending over that desk, spread out for him, cunt filled with pulsing black cock, being pushed against the edge of the desk (the next day the bruises on the fronts of my thighs were very evident!), being BANGED against the desk, the pain was mingling with my stimulation, forever uniting pain and pleasure for me.
His speed built up, faster, faster, harder, harder…… I know I came twice, but each orgasm mingled with the other……. It just seemed to roll over me, roll through me. I felt him pushing ever harder into me, then he tensed……… I felt his cock seemingly swell within me and his glorious cum erupted into my churning cunt. His hands tore at my breasts, tugging at the nipples as he poured forth his seed into me. Me, his anointed slave.
He held me like a rag doll, like a dog shaking a rat in its teeth, holding me as he pumped and pumped his sperm into me. When he finished…. When he had sated himself within my well fucked hole…… When he had finished…… he slowly pulled out of me, and sat back down in his seat. Through the fog that addled my brain, I heard him speak again “one task left bitch, on your knees and clean me up”.
My pain wracked body swivelled on my heels, almost without any volition of my own. I dropped to my knees and paid oral homage to the thick black fuckpole that had so recently fucked me into a state of almost oblivion. The taste was wonderful. My own spending, along with the wonderful tang of his cum, the cum I had already tasted on its own earlier. My lips carefully and dutifully kissed along the wet shaft, as my tongue hovered up any residues, licking into his pubic hair, cleaning his balls, making him pristine again. I leaned back on my haunches, so pleased with myself, so sated, so happy!.
I was so naïve……. I thought he was my boyfriend now!!
Well he soon put me right on that………. But that’s probably for another time.
Next time….. how Marcus showed me that a white girl is just a toy for Dominant Black Males.