Invasion of the Ghetto Sluts

I remembered the iPod hidden in my dresser, and the black female rap on it, which conjured up such insane images of black women in my head. Hot black women, rapping about sex. I remembered their sexy voices and naughty words. I knew I shouldn't, but I figured I should give the music a quick listen, maybe get these nasty thoughts out of my head.

**********

"Mr. and Mrs. Naples, we have good news and bad news." the detective told us. We had received the call to come down to the station. Emma had been calling the detectives a few times a week, desperate to get her ring back. We were both hopeful when we entered the police station and sat at the detective's desk.

"Did you find the ring?" Emma asked impatiently. The detective, an older, worn down man, sighed and began to speak.

"The good news is we tracked down the man who stole the ring. The bad news is we don't have the ring." he said.

"What?" I asked.

"Wait, how can you have the robber and not have the ring?" Emma asked.

"We found evidence at your home that led us to our culprit. But, by the time we found him, he said he had given the ring to someone else." the detective said.

"Who did it?" I asked. He held up a picture of a familiar face.

"His name is T.J. Howard." he said, holding up a picture of the guy I met at Monique and Sydni's party. "The evidence we found eventually led to him. He confessed to the crime, but he will not give away the name of the person he gave the ring to. From what we can find, there was no money given to him for this."

"So why did he do this?" I asked.

"I don't know. Maybe he had a debt owed to somebody. He won't budge. It's strange though, he almost seems happy. Happy to be caught. If I had to guess, I would say he was in deep with some bad people. The way he talked about the people he gave the ring to, he sounded absolutely terrified of them. Pure fear. So, in a way, I think he wanted to be caught. Put in jail, away from the people he feared." the detective said.

As he said this, I flashed upon my one meeting with T.J. And the people he seemed terrified of. Monique and Sydni. Suddenly, I knew where the ring was.

In retrospect, I don't know why I didn't tell the detective my suspicions. At the time, I thought it might be best to handle it myself. I knew them well enough where I was pretty sure I could see through their BS. And the girls seemed slippery enough to avoid suspicion. So that was why we walked out of the station empty handed. That was why Emma was down for the rest of the night, not getting her ring back, not wanting to talk, or have fun, or make love. That was why I vowed to get my wife's ring back the next day, and be her hero.

***********

It was the hottest day on record. It made the night uncomfortable to sleep through, and Emma's frosty attitude about the ring didn't help matters. I saw her off for the day, and she was gone for five minutes when disaster struck.

Rolling blackouts tore through the city. The heat had overwhelmed the transformers, creating a near citywide blackout. Emma worked outside of the affected area, and had taken off for the day, which worked perfectly in my plan to confront the girls. But the blackout threw a wrench into things. I did own a generator, but I was not gonna hook it up immediately unless I knew the blackout was gonna last awhile. But I was quickly realizing the heat was insane. It was a sticky heat, causing the sweat to immediately form all over. I was tempted to hook it up just to get the air conditioner going. But before I could even consider that there was a knock at the door. I opened it up and there stood, making my plan easier, Monique and Sydni.

"Sean." Sydni said. She was wearing a white tank top and stretchy booty shorts. Behind her stood Monique, in an airy baby blue dress, very low cut, showing off her expansive cleavage.

"Uh, what's up?" I asked, caught off guard by their sudden appearance.

"This fucking heat's a killer." Sydni said, wiping the sweat off her face. Both her and Monique were already shiny with sweat.

"Yeah, hopefully they get the power going soon." I said amicably.

"We got a generator, but we need help setting up. Do you mind?" Monique asked. Of course, these two girls would not wait an hour before having to fire up the generator.

"Uh, yeah, okay." I said, following them over to their house. I figured once we got inside, I would begin my plan to get back the ring I thought they had. I followed them in and as we walked through their house towards the back, I decided to speak up.

"Hey, can I ask you guys something?" I asked. They turned and looked back at me.

"What?" Sydni asked. I rested my hand on their couch and leaned against it. I smiled as I asked.

"Do you guys have the ring?" I asked.

"What?" Monique said.

"What are you talking about?" Sydni said.

"They caught T.J. for stealing the ring. The same T.J. that was here at your party. They said he gave it away to someone, someone he was terrified of. And if I'm not mistaken, he seemed pretty intimidated by you guys." I said. Sydni looked at me, angrily, seeming like she was staring through me. I looked right back at her, unafraid to back down.

"The police cleared us." Monique said.

"The police said you had an alibi for the time of the crime. That doesn't mean you didn't get it later." I speculated.

"So, the racism has come to a head. You meet one black guy, and you automatically assume he is in cahoots in a crime with the only black people you know. Us." Sydni said.

"No. Don't cry racism here. Answer the question." I demanded. I looked into Sydni's eyes, and she looked into mine.

"I'll answer your question. But fuck the generator. We're gonna go upstairs and hash this all out." Sydni said, marching upstairs. Monique looked angry at me as she followed, and facing no other choice, I followed them. They had gone to their bedroom, and I followed them in.

"I am tired of your racist bullshit. We are gonna get you to confront your racism right now." Sydni said.

"Sydni. Answer the question! Do you have the ring?" I asked angrily. Monique walked towards me and pushed me back onto the bed hard. "Hey!" I said, falling to a sitting position, rubbing my chest where she hit me.

"Calm down and listen!" Sydni ordered. "I will tell you what I know. But only if you admit that you are a racist."

"I'm not a racist!" I said with a manic laugh. "Why are you so convinced that I'm racist?" This caused Sydni to laugh evilly.

"Look at us, Sean." Sydni said softly. I looked at them as they stood above, their bodies coated with a sheen of sweat. I was once again struck by how beautiful these two were.

"Okay, what?" I asked when they didn't say anything.

"You want to know why we think your racist?" Monique asked. I nodded again.

"You know how hot we are right? You would have to blind not to. We are the hottest women you have ever met. Admit it!" Sydni said.

"What? No..." I said, confused.

"Yeah we are. We are hotter than any woman you have ever met. We have these huge tits and hot booties. And your wife doesn't." Sydni said.

"Why are you saying this?" I asked, confused.

"We are saying that since we are so fucking hot, the only reason possible that you haven't fucked us yet, the only way you haven't tapped our asses, is that you are racist, that you hate black women." Sydni said emphatically. I laughed at this accusation.

"Really?" I asked. " First of all, I'm married. Second of all, I'm just not into black women. That's not me being racist. Those are just my tastes."

"All white guys are into black women, deep down." Sydni said.

"How do you know you're not into black women, Sean? Have you been with a black woman." Monique asked.

"No, they just don't do it for me." I said.

"Did you listen to that music I gave you?" Monique asked.

"Uh, yeah, I did." I replied.

"That was some good shit, huh?" she asked.

"It was alright." I said.

"Really? Just alright? Or was it...hot. It's like I said, that shit is perfect to jack off two. No one would blame you." Monique started, joining me on the bed, leaning in close. She began to whisper in my ear. "All those sexy black women saying such nasty things in your ear. Their smooth, sexy black voices. No one would blame you for unzipping your pants, wrapping your hand around that fat white cock of yours, and jacking yourself senseless."

"Oookay. I should go." I said, standing quickly, but Sydni pushed me back down.

"I don't hear a 'no'. I don't hear you denying the fact that you beat off thinking about black women. I don't hear you denying that the best sex of your life was not with your wife. It was with your own hand, listening to black women's voices. I don't hear you denying that you think black women are so hot that merely the voice of a sexy black woman is enough to give you a more powerful orgasm than your wife ever could." Sydni said. I was shocked speechless. I couldn't find any words.

"Think about it, Sean. We are better than your wife in every way. Sean, we are strong, independent gorgeous black women. We are the pinnacle of women. We are built for sex. Monique, who's prettier? Us, or Emma?" Sydni asked.

"Us." Monique said simply, hands on her hips.

"That's right. We've been told we could model. All the best models are black. Because no white woman could be as hot as us. No white woman could have our sexy eyes. No white woman could have the full, sexy lips that we do. No white woman could have the hair we do. Monique, who has better hair, us, or Emma?"

"Us." Monique said again.

"Black women's pride and joy is their hair. Look at it. It's so deep and dark and sexy." Sydni said, her lustrous black locks shimmering in the light. "And look at hers. So full, and sexy." Sydni added, describing Monique's hair. Her hair had more curl, which suited her. It fell over her shoulders in waves, and the streak of blonde she added suited her perfectly. "Monique! Who has better skin, us or Emma?"

"Us." Monique said.

"A black women's skin is superior to any white woman's. It's not nasty and pale and boring. Not black skin. It's smooth, and dark, and sexy. And as we all know, the nastier the sex, the better. And as I always say, the darker the skin, the darker the sex." Sydni said. "Monique, who has bigger, better tits, us or Emma?"

"Us." Monique said with a laugh. "Not even fucking close."

"Not even fucking close. A white girl won't have tits like these. Just pathetic, sad little mosquito bites, like your wife has. A white girl won't have monsters like we have. They can't. A white woman isn't built to handle big tits like black women are. They are flimsy. They are weak. Black women are strong. They deserve to have big tits. Big, firm, soft tits. Perfect to the touch. Begging to be squeezed. With perfect hard nipples." Sydni said, her nipples throbbing under her top, harder than I had ever seen them. She was breathing hard, her tits clearly dying to escape their confines. I looked over at Monique, and her tits were pouring out from under her dress. "Monique, who has better asses, us, or Emma?"

"Is there even a question?" Monique asked with a laugh.

"It's a stereotype for a reason, Sean. Black women have big asses. Round firm asses, built to handle anything. White girls don't have butts like this, because they are inferior. Look at our butts, Sean." Sydni said. They spun and showed off their asses to me. Sydni's shorts molded to it, showing off the perfectly ripe cheeks, sticking out firmly, jutting out from her back, begging to be spanked. Monique's was the same, bigger than Sydni's, and more imposing, but equally sexy. That ass could do some damage. "These are black asses, Sean. You don't see white girls with butts like these." Sydni said. "Monique, what's better? A black women's pussy, or a white woman's pussy?"

"Shit, that's easy. A black girl's cunt...HOLLAH!" Monique said.

"That's right. It's a fact, Sean. Black cunt is better. It's tighter. It's wetter. It's deeper. It's tastier. It's built to handle anything. Black cunt is not loose and nasty like white girl pussy. It's the perfect home for a fat, white cock, and believe me, there is nothing hotter than seeing a white cock stretching out some black pussy." Sydni said. "Monique, who's sexier. Black women, or white girls?"

"Black women." Monique yelled enthusiastically, "A-MEN!"

"Black women are built for sex. That's what we are here for. Black women can dance. Black women can shake our asses. Black women can flirt. Black women can fuck. Black women do anything. We are not pathetic little twigs like white girls. We are built to take whatever a man can offer. The worst black woman still fucks better than most white women." Sydni said. "So, I think we have shown we are hotter than Emma in every way. But that isn't the only reason we are better than Emma. We are smarter than her. Sure, we didn't finish school. We didn't need to. We didn't waste our time. And look who's better off. Us. We are richer than her. All that work she did, all that school, and we are still better off. Black women are winners. We have fun. We spend our money. We don't fuck around. We don't 'invest in our 401k's'," Sydni said, imitating a nerdy white girl voice. "No, we spend our money. We have fun. What's the point of not spending? Shit, she can save her money and have no fun. I would rather have fun with it."

"So I have shown you that me and Monique are superior to your wife in every way. So why aren't you fucking us? The only thing it could be is that you are racist against black girls. Your prejudice is stopping you from endless pleasure." Sydni said, her terrifying speech over.

Wow, just wow. Where to start.

"I love my wife. Love is not about who is the superior woman is. Love is about personal connection. It is about personality. It isn't about who has the bigger tits. It isn't about race. It isn't about money. It is that connection that two people share." I told her.

"I'm not saying you love us." Sydni countered. "I'm saying that it doesn't matter. The things I said before matter. Because, well, just look. Here is white sex." she said, holding her hand just over the floor. "And here is love." she said, hovering her hand near her waist. "And here is sex with black women." she added, holding her hand as far as she could over her head. "Black sex is better than love. We have fucked a lot of white guys, and I can guarantee that the time they spent with us are the best moments they've ever head. No, when all these married white guys look back to the best moment of their life, they don't think of the day they got married. They don't think of the years of joy with their wife. No, they think of the time they hooked up with some crazy hot black girls. It's that good. It's the best thing any white guy could do. Hooking up with black girls."

"So you are into white guys then?" I asked.

"Mmmm, I love white guys. I'll fuck the occasional black guy if I have to, but I am a white guy kinda girl." Sydni said. "There is nothing better than riding a huge white cock. And there is nothing better of rubbing a white girl's face in it. I fucking hate white girls. They act so snobby and they think they are so much better than us. I show them what their men are really into."

"You sound like the racist one." I countered.

"Oh no doubt. I hate just about every white woman I see. Why wouldn't I feel that way? I'm sorry, but black women are better. And the best white women are the ones who act black." Sydni said.

"I understand now." I began, standing up fast and getting in Sydni's face. "You are both crazy! You have some racist agenda you are trying to prove. Well, I am not gonna be a part of it!" I yelled, looking down at her. I turned to run out the door, but Monique stood in the way.

"I'm not moving, Sean. If you want to get out, you will have to put your hands all over me. Can you handle that?" Monique teased. I was tempted to just grab her and move her out of the way, but I would never put my hands on a woman.

"Get out of the way!" I screamed. But she was not backing down. She was not afraid. "Move!" I roared.

"You're hot when you're angry." Sydni said.

"Oh, fuck you!" I said, turning to face her, looking into her eyes. I held her gaze and she met mine.

"Monique, let him go." Sydni said, surprising me. I looked over my shoulder and saw Monique step out of the way. I turned to walk out the door. As I stepped out into the hall, Sydni called out, "Come back when you want to find out about the ring."

This stopped me dead in my tracks. I could just leave now escape their lair and never come back. But I have to get that ring back. My wife would be down in the dumps until she got it back. I had to get it back for her.

"What do you know? Do you have it?" I said, marching back into the room, walking up to her, looking down at her again.

"I know who has the ring. I know that T.J. took the ring. I know why he did it." Sydni said.

"Out with it!" I said. Sydni simply smiled.

"You're bullshitting me. If you knew anything, you would have told the cops." I said. They both laughed loudly at this.

"I don't know where you come from, but in my world, you don't get very far by talking to the cops." Sydni said. I couldn't find any more words.

"What do you want? I've listened to your insane ramblings..." I started.

"You should listen to yourself." she replied.

"What?" I said, confused. She looked down at my crotch. I followed her gaze. In all my anger and rage, I had looked past one noticeable fact: I had a throbbing erection. Embarrassed, I brought my hands down to cover myself. The girls laughed as I did. Why was I hard? They had spoken very brazenly, very sexually. We had a very sexually charged conversation. That was why I was hard. It wasn't like I was secretly into black women or anything.

"Listen, I just... I think... it's just..." I stammered.

"Just sit down." Sydni said, pushing me back to the bed again. I tried to will my dick to soften.

"You are getting in the way of our dance practice." Sydni started. "So if you just sit there and let us dance, we will explain everything."

"I can't watch you dance. That's wrong." I said, looking at Sydni, terrified to see them working the pole.

"Is it?" Monique said. I turned to face her, and as I did, her dress fell off her shoulders, falling to the floor in a puddle at her feet.

Holy shit! Just like that, I was seeing Monique's body, practically nude, the only thing preventing her from being totally nude was her skimpy thong. My eyes were immediately drawn to her chest, and those massive titties she was showing off. I had never seen a black woman naked, let alone seeing a pair of black breasts. Holy fuck! They were magnificent. They were round, and smooth, and firm, and soft looking. They were as big as volleyballs! I had seen some big white breasts in my time, but something about this pair was better. I don't know if it was the dark black skin, or the dark cleavage they naturally formed, or the dark hard nipples that capped them off perfectly. I couldn't take my eyes off of them. I had to step back, almost afraid of them

Her bare belly was soft and lush looking, not as tight and fit as Sydni's, but still very nice. Even her belly button was sexy.

"There ain't nothing wrong with seeing these, is there?" Monique said softly. I was struck dumb by her huge black breasts. "And since you've already seen my perfect black breasts, there is nothing wrong with seeing a little more, right?" She took my silence as an affirmative. She reached down and ran her fingers under her thong straps of her light blue thong.

I jumped as the stereo was flipped on by Sydni, the music jarring in the silence. I realized I recognized the beat, as I had heard it on the iPod Monique had given. A familiar female voice pervaded the room, the beat perfect for booty-shaking.