Joanne and Muriel

Honestly, I'd never given too much thought to being with a black woman, never mind two of them at once. Funny how things work out. It certainly was an unforgettable educational experience that broadened my cultural horizons, so to speak.

I was twenty-four years old and having the time of my sexual life. I worked in the Merchandise Information Systems department at a major department store's home office. The job itself might sound rather mundane, but think about it. At the risk of stereotyping, who works in retail? Gay men and beautiful young ladies, mostly.

Ergo, if you're a reasonably attractive heterosexual male in close proximity on a daily basis to hot, fashionable chicks, you're going to get laid. A lot. And I was. Boy, was I ever.

Hence, when Joanne Milligan started to flirt with me incessantly and rather aggressively, I pretty much shrugged it off as something not worth pursuing. To be perfectly candid, in my youthful naivete, the idea of fucking an older black woman scared the shit out of me, despite the reality that Joanne was built like the proverbial Brick House. Given a dose of truth serum, I'd have to confess that if she was white, I would have taken her up on her suggestive offers in a heartbeat.

Joanne was in her mid-thirties, I'd estimate, and worked behind the scenes as a call center supervisor, so she could wear skin-tight jeans and low-cut blouses to work virtually every day. The brothers who worked in the warehouse next to her office practically lined up when she paraded past them on her lunch breaks, Joanne's body was that sensational, there was no debate about that. She stood about 5-feet-4, with huge missile-shaped tits that jutted out and bounced wildly during her sexy struts, and a round, bubble-shaped butt that was essentially perfectly shaped. That is, of course, if you preferred round, bubble-shaped butts. And, oh yes, lest I forget, her camel toe that protruded routinely through her jeans indicated that she wasn't a big fan of panties, apparently.

I was more of a thin-tight-butt kinda man myself, and that is why if I WAS indeed going to have any interest in a black girl, it was going to be Muriel Haynes, who worked in Joanne's department. Muriel was lighter skinned, mocha-colored compared to Joanne's deep cocoa, and she was tall, thin, and quiet to the point of being shy. She was a knockout, though, a Halle Berry-type when Halle had lighter, longer hair. I learned in casual small talk that Muriel was a year out of college where she had been a champion high-hurdler in track and field. I confess that on more than one occasion I had imagined Muriel hurdling herself over and over on my cock.

One day, as I was lingering much longer in their department than I needed to while installing some new software into their department's main frame, Joanne approached me from behind and caught me in the act of ogling Muriel's long, shapely legs as she sat at her desk in a flowery summer sundress, revealing a nice view of her shapely calves and muscular thighs. Busted.

Joanne sidled up to me and whispered into my ear. "So you DO like us black girls after all, eh, John? There is hope for us yet." She turned on her heels, smiling wickedly over her shoulder at me, and I couldn't help but notice that her butt looked especially squeezable today. I guess my hormones were over-active that particular day, but my cock began to rise involuntarily, and Joanne peered down directly at my crotch, bulging through my khakis, and licked her lips discreetly. She had all but asked me to fuck her several times before, and for the first time, maybe spurred on by Muriel's beauty as well, I had begun to sincerely consider the possibility.

I blushed like a stop light, and after hastily gathering my stuff, I walked into Joanne's office to take her temperature, and pushed the door so that only a crack remained open, obscuring the view of any passersby without being blatant about it.

"Allright, Joanne, suppose I DID ask you out, where would we go?"

She rose from her desk, walked past me close enough so that our hips touched as she passed, and closed the door entirely. She stood with her back against the door and raised a finger to her mouth, placing it between her full, brown lips.

"Here," she said, sucking languidly on her manicured fingertip.

Her finger lowered to her deep cleavage, and she ran it slowly in circles along first one nipple, and then the other, the nubs rising visibly beneath her blouse. "Here."

The same finger cascaded down to her jeans, and she ran it along the obvious slit on her crotch, tracing the outline of her prominent labia as I fought to stifle the drool forming in the roof of my mouth. "Here."

Her next gesture irrevocably changed my mindset on fucking a black woman. My cock felt as if were about to burst through my zipper as she turned around, placed one hand on the door to brace herself, bent over at the knees, and placed the same exploring finger directly between her jean-clad asscheeks. "And, if you like, here." She pushed the digit lewdly into her denim-covered asshole.

She turned once more, and opened her full lips, and I inhaled her musky perfume and feminine scent, all mixing as one, and she gently bit my lower lip as her hand reached down to judge my reaction to the performance. Neither of us was disappointed.

"Mmmm, you ARE a big boy, aren't you? I knew it, I just knew it. Maybe we can overcome this hesitancy of yours, John. Maybe you're re-thinking the errors of your ways?" I nodded nervously, sweat forming on my brow now as she continued to stroke my cock, running her lighter-hued palms across the length of my shaft. Joanne seemed to revel in my discomfort, like a predatory panther toying with her skittish prey.

"We're having a little inter-departmental Happy Hour after work on Friday at the Heartthrob Cafe, handsome." She mercifully released her grip on my cock, perhaps sensing that I was about ready to burst. "Muriel will be there, since you seem to like that sweet young stuff." I shifted on the balls of my feet, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

Joanne then lifted her breasts up with both of her hands, cupping them so that they raised almost to her chin. They were, as Teri Hatcher's character infamously uttered on Seinfeld, "Spectacular." Joanne's pinkish tongue darted out of her mouth and she mimicked licking her globes, and out of the corner of her mouth, she cooed, "And these puppies will be there, too. Perhaps we could find a nice home for that impressive white-boy pole of yours."

Gee, guess where I ended up going for Happy Hour on Friday?

I showed up more than fashionably late, strategically so, and by the time I arrived, the crowd had thinned considerably, and most of those that remained were well on the path to drunkenness. This included Muriel, who greeted me with a big, enthusiastic hug as she downed a shot of some fruity-colored liquor from a shot glass. Joanne, who appeared to be stone sober, quickly approached from the rear, and urged Muriel, "I told you he'd come, sweetie. Go on, girl, tell him what you told me earlier."

Muriel looked red-hot, she had on a short, pleated black miniskirt that I had never seen her wear in the office environment, and two amaretto-colored nubs poked through a sheer, lacy bra, covered by her thin, linen ivory blouse. She dipped her big, almond eyes in embarrassment. "Stop it, Jo, don't make me."

Joanne leered evilly at her, "Go on, baby doll, he needs to hear it. Tell him." Joanne stared directly at me while cupping her hands around Muriel's dainty chin, raising her head to meet mine. "Tell him. He'll like it."

Muriel's lips quivered anxiously, but the lustful look in her eyes indicated that the liquor had caused a metamorphosis deep within Muriel's libido. She said the words slowly, softly, annunciating each syllable dramatically, her eyes boring into mine as she spoke.

"I...want...to.....feel....your.......big.......cock......in...........me."

Behind her, smirking, Joanne's voice was barely audible in the blaring background music of the lively nightclub. "I told her about my hands-on inspection a few days ago. And, for the record, ditto, that goes for me to. Up to it?"

Joanne slipped me a scrap of paper with her address scribbled on it. I recognized the location, it was within walking distance. I folded the paper in my hip pocket as my cock twitched within it as well, and awaited further direction from our Alpha-cougar social director, Joanne, still somewhat astonished at what was transpiring.

"We really don't need to bring any unwanted attention to our little plan, do we, John? Office gossip and innuendo and such, you know. " She shook her head in mock disgust. "Who needs it? So, Muriel and I will be hosting our own little after-party at my place. Your note is your private invitation. So, RSVP...."

Exactly fifty-nine minutes and four shots of tequila later, I knocked on the door of a tasteful brick rowhouse off of Christian Street for what would prove to be, as an understatement, the most gratifying carnal evening of my young existence.

Joanne opened the door and my eyes nearly popped out of my head. She had changed into a dark brown velvet blouse with gold accent trimming that looked as if it had been molded to her frame. The push-up bra she was wearing beneath the blouse gave her cleavage the appearance of the approximate size of two small mountain ranges. The only things tighter than her blouse were her painted-on designer jeans and, now, my lap.

She took me by the hand and led me to the living room where Muriel was sitting on the plush couch, her long, stockinged legs criss-crossed, one stiletto-heeled shoe dangling off of her right foot, adorned with a gold ankle bracelet. For the first time, I noticed the small tattoo of a teddy bear beneath her stocking, right above her ankle. A small roach of a marijuana cigarette sat in the ash tray on the end table next to her, and her slightly bloodshot pupils indicated that she had partaken liberally.

The contrast between the two beauties could not have been more striking. Joanne, the aggressive thirty-something voluptuous with the hourglass figure and the dark chocolate skin; and Muriel, young, tall, lean, lithe and cinnamon-hued, normally demure and reserved, but for tonight, transformed into a willing participant in an multi-partner sexual escapade.

Muriel patted the coach for me to sit, and as I did, Joanne lowered herself next to me on the other side, and the two ebony vixens turned my head like a swivel, back and forth, taking turns kissing me hungrily while they alternated rubbing my dick and fumbling with the belt buckle before Joanne took the lead and dropped to her knees and pulled the belt from the loops with a flourish and peeled my trousers down to the floor, separating my legs so that they could drop unimpeded, all the while Muriel sucking on my tongue with her thin, tight lips.

Joanne looked up at me and ordered simply, "Stand up." As I did so, she said to Muriel, "C'mere, baby, on your knees with me."

As Muriel slid down, together, in tandem, they pulled my boxers down by the waistband, and the fabric snaked over my shaft and my twitching dick flipped into plain sight. "Mmmm, fuck, my God, " Muriel gasped, taking the shaft tentatively in her long fingers. "Fuck, that's nice, wow, what a dick."

Joanne looked pleased with her assessment and mumbled, "I told you, baby, Mommy knows from dock, and this is the nicest piece of white meat I've ever seen." She cupped my balls as Muriel continued to stroke my shaft, more urgently now. She continued her description, like an announcer giving play-by-play to a radio audience. "Long, thick, REAL thick, and look at the size of that cock head, what a tip, it looks like a lemon." She raised her head to suck on it gently, as I groaned. "I like lemons. Here, Muriel, have a taste with me."

Muriel took the tip in her mouth as Joanne snaked her dark tongue up and down my shaft, and at that moment, I had never felt more like a stud. I had had more than a few women comment on my size and girth, but for the most part, I had chalked up to mainly sexual banter in the heat of the action.

I mean, I knew I was comparatively well-endowed, but when two black women fussed and got wide-eyed over my size, well, I figured maybe I was pretty damn hung after all. I didn't know how much experience Muriel had with men (although I was to be VERY pleasantly surprised at her expertise), but I figured Joanne had seen more than her share of hefty cock in her day, so the fact that I measured up more than favorably gave me a burst of self-confidence so that I suddenly felt sexually invincible, and this sense of confidence rushed directly to my cock, lengthening and thickening it even more, so that I KNEW my cock was more excited and bigger than it had ever been.

Of course, the fact that two hot and horny black women were sucking on it while groaning and panting probably had something to do with it, also.

Joanne licked and sucked on my balls like two melting scoops of vanilla ice cream while Muriel's tight mouth went up and down on my dick with alacrity, an audible 'pop' resonating through the small room each time she picked her head up for breath before repeating the process.

"Let's switch, sugar," Joanne said to her tag-team partner, and Joanne's full, walnut-colored lips attacked my cock with fervor, while Muriel's long tongue lapped vertically and enthusiastically on my concrete-hard shaft, their two mouths occasionally meeting in the middle as they shared the tang of my pre-cum.

Joanne suddenly stood up and pulled her velvet blouse over her head, her mahogany monsters now partially exposed beneath her underwire bra, and with a grin unsnapped the clasp, and two mahogany monsters spilled out from their encasement to join in the fun.

Her areolas appeared to be the circumference of two bronze tennis balls, and her jet-black nipples protruded like champagne diamonds.

She peered down at Muriel, still perched between my calves and licking urgently, and began to rub her nips with her respective thumbs and index fingers. She asked smugly, "What do you think of these?"

Muriel suspended her oral homage to pay tribute to her boss' bountiful mammaries. "Oh my God, Jo, Jesus Christ, those are the most amazing tits I've ever seen." I nodded, seconding the motion, wondering just how hard my dick could get before it would explode. With no false modesty, I was normally pretty proud of my stamina, but this was borderline unfair now.

Joanne kneeled down again and smiled at Muriel. "Move over, girlfriend, our boy here could use some windshield wipers on that big slab of his." With one hand, she mashed her massive tits together around my dick, and with the other, she placed it on the back of Muriel's neck and pushed her face down onto my cock. Muriel didn't need an instruction manual, she resumed sucking my cock as Joanne's huge breasts slapped her cheeks on each down stroke, and the increasing decibel level of Muriel's moans indicated that this got her even hotter.

It didn't take long with this exotic exacta before I announced the inevitable, "Oh, ah, fuck, I'm going to cum, ladies, here it cu........"

A split-second before I unleashed a torrent of cum, Joanne removed her cleavage from my lap and grabbed my pulsing shaft, pointing it directly at Muriel's pretty face, and splash after splash of white, sticky semen landed on Muriel's chestnut skin, coating her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead, and dripping down to her collarbone above her silky blouse. Some even got onto her tongue, and Joanne took that opportunity, as Muriel's eyes were still closed due to the stream of sperm on her lids, to spoon her own tongue into Muriel's mouth to savor and share my salty seed.

Joanne rose and stepped out of her jeans so that she now, finally, stood naked in all of her glory in front of us, validating the long-held suspicion that she paraded about commando under her denim, although Muriel couldn't yet see her, still blinded by perhaps a good half-ounce of cum.

Joanne scurried into the kitchen and I watched mesmerized as her fleshy asscheeks bounced during her departure, and her prodigious tits did the same on the return trip. She wiped Muriel's sputtering face with a warm towel with one hand, while deftly unzipping Muriel's skirt with the other, so skillfully that I don't know if Muriel even felt her skirt falling to the carpet.

"Will you two excuse me for a minute?" Muriel asked once the realization hit her that she was now sans skirt, displaying a see-through black silk thong that clearly showed the outline of her labia. "I need to go to the restroom to clean up before we can start round two, I hope, OK?" I again closely examined my second black ass within a few minutes, and the visual contrast of Muriel's thin, taut, sepia-colored cheeks compared to Joanne's sizeable heart-shaped buttocks served to keep my dick at full-mast.

This observation did not escape Joanne as she leaned over to kiss me deeply as she stroked my cock. "Fuck her like she's never been fucked before, big dick. I want you to fuck her into unconsciousness so that I can have you to myself. I'm going to show you how a real sister fucks, you white stud, you."

That plan worked just fine for me.

Joanne called into the bathroom towards Muriel, "Don't come back with no clothes on, young lady. Come show this man your fine body, baby doll."

I couldn't resist any longer, so I began sucking on Joanne's incredible tits while we waited for Muriel. I snaked my index finger into her dripping snatch as she trembled upon the digital penetration, swirled and dipped it around inside of her snatch, and brought the finger up to my lips to enjoy my first taste of black pussy. I can't say it was unpleasant, it was muskier than I was used to, but rich in texture, almost like a small sample of tangy, tart maple syrup.

Just then, as if on cue, Muriel appeared from the bathroom.

I stared in admiration at this slim, bronze beauty with not an ounce of fat anywhere. Grapefruit sized tits, flat belly, long slender legs, tight rounded ass and a smooth shaved pussy shining with her leaking juices.

This was gonna be fun.

Joanne apparently thought so, too, because she moved to an adjacent leather chair, providing ample and unfettered room for Muriel and I on the couch, and she spread her legs over the armrest, fingering her slit leisurely, and said, almost matter-of-factly, "Do her."

I began to stroke my cock as I looked at this vision before me, standing there with her belly totally flat. You could tell Muriel was a fanatic when it came to working out. The muscles on her belly rippled as she moved towards me. Her hips were wide and shapely and that ass of hers was to die for. Her long tapered legs were the perfect shape and her calves were nicely rounded.

I stood and escorted Muriel over to the couch and set her down on it. I knelt down before her and started kissing her belly and running my tongue through her thin, dark patch of hair I found above her dripping pussy. She spread her legs wide and her pussy opened like a flower blooming. The inner salmon-colored folds were wet with her juices and the scent was overpowering and erotic. I lowered my mouth and my tongue parted her inner folds as I dipped into her pussy. Her taste was like honey laced with cognac and she ran her fingers through my hair as I found her clit. She stiffened and let out a groan as she came for the first time. I continued to suck and lick at her dripping pussy and she rolled her hips up and down, around and around as she built towards another orgasm.

Muriel screamed out, "Oh John, suck my clit, yes, yes just like that, oh fuck, I'm cumming again!"

She fell back against the backrest as her hips thrust upwards against my sucking mouth. She let out a long groan and then went limp. I had to hold her up from sliding off the edge of the couch.