Leasa Ch. 03byLeasaJ©
That night when I got home I was very quiet. I didn't have much to say, plus I was still in shock over all that had happened that day.
Andy, getting out of the shower, began questioning me on what happened at work that day. Finally, I casually mentioned that I went to lunch with Amos.
There was a long silence and then Andy walked over to me and said "What?" in a very loud and very shocked tone of voice.
"What the hell are you thinking about!?!" he yelled, standing over me in an almost threatening way.
"Well, he's very, very persistent," I said. And I said it in a casual, almost teasing, tone. I guess underneath it all I was really very angry. Angry that my husband wasn't man enough to keep me satisfied and at home. Man enough to keep other men at bay. After all, I thought, I had told him this man was making advances and he did nothing. Nothing to protect and defend me—and my honor. An honor that was now gone—taken forever.
Taken by a black, 65 year old janitor.
"Why didn't you just tell him no!?!"
Andy's voice was rising now. He was almost becoming hysterical. Like a woman, I thought. And he looked so ridiculous again, standing there shouting, naked, with his little genitals flapping and bobbing around like someone had grafted a five year old's privates onto a 30 year old man.
What did I ever see in this man was all I could think. He now seemed so ineffectual, so weak, so impotent...so white.
I just got up undressed and walked into the shower leaving him there saying, "Well...well...are you going to say anything?"
From the bathroom I answered as I shut the door. "No."
I ran the shower, but before stepping in I noticed what my husband must have seen as I disrobed. My back was scraped red from all the rubbing on the back room's cot that Amos had fucked me on. Also, my pussy was red and sore from both Amos' bruising dick and from my own constant masturbating throughout the day as I kept recalling the black man's taking of me.
Andy had to know.
My slight bit of pussy hair was matted with dried semen. In short, I was a mess with recent sex. And even smelled it too.
You could smell the sex all over me, I thought. He knows Amos fucked me. He knows and yet all he does is stand there and get hysterical asking me to say something.
I stepped into the shower and let it rain down on me. As I sat down on the ledge and felt the water splash on my breasts, belly and inner thighs, I began to get horny again.
"God," I thought, "I can't seem to get enough!" I wanted more of something, I kept thinking. As I closed my eyes and let my fingers rub along my once again swollen pussy lips, I dreamed of being taken by an African tribe of huge black men. I imagined them forcing me to do all kinds of unmentionable things. Things I had never before actually done with a man. At least, with a white man. But they were things I was now thinking I would do. At least, do with a black man.
And there was one particular black man, much older, and very persistent, who I thought I might be persuaded to do all of these things with...
His name was Amos.
That name now sounded like music to me. I wanted him, and his body, so, so much.
As my fantasies about the old janitor continued...I came. Very strongly, almost violently.
"OH...Oh...oh..ooooohhhh. Oh, Amos, Amos, Amos," I mumbled over and over.
That night in bed Andy climbed on top of me and tried to mount me. But couldn't.
No matter how much he tried, he couldn't even get close to getting hard. It seemed pathetic, as he started just rubbing his limp genitals against my pussy. Then suddenly, rolled off me and began whimpering in our bed.
I thought, does he expect me to comfort him! He disgusts me!!!
How strange, it seemed, that here was a man who laughed at another man approaching his wife, but who now found her being taken from him by this very man. And now this 'laughable' old man was, in effect, emasculating him through the seduction of his wife.
Who is laughing now, I thought.
The next morning as I dressed for work Andy started in again.
"Look I'll forgive you, Ok? But from now on you tell him, 'No'. Understood?"
I looked at him with loathing, "Why don't you come down to work and tell him 'No' yourself. And be a man—for once!"
"Fine. I might do just that!"
"I won't hold my breath...," I said as I walked out.
At work each day, I waited for Amos to find a reason to come up to my department to fix something. I thought for sure he'd find an excuse to see me. But as the days passed, no Amos.
Finally, I began inventing phony reasons to call maintenance to try to get him up in my department. But each time another man would show up. "Damn," I'd find myself thinking, all these sexy outfits, but he doesn't even come up to take a look.
As days passed I began to get angry. "What, does he think he's too good for me!!!!" I would find myself totally distracted and furious.
"He's a damned, black janitor," I'd think racistly. "He should feel so lucky to have had what I gave him!"
But then, as happens with women, I'd begin to lose my confidence. Maybe I wasn't that good on the cot that day, I worried. Maybe other women he's been with pleased him more. Maybe I can do better next time if I read books on what men like or ask other women. Maybe I should ask some of the black women here at work what they do to please their men.
My thoughts went on and on until I worried myself into knots; convinced that I didn't measure up to the kind of woman that could keep a man like Amos.
But maybe it was true, I just wasn't good enough for him.
Soon I found myself thinking of excuses to go down to the basement to visit the Maintenance Dept.
One Friday I decided I would do it. I would go down to the Maintenance Dept and find out why Amos never followed up and called me again. Find out why this old, toothless, black janitor...dumped me.
I went down to the Maintenance Dept dressed in a tight knit dress. Very short. With very high, high heels. I wanted to be dressed to kill.
When I knocked on the door I heard Amos' voice say, "C'mon in!"
I opened the door and there he was sitting at a table playing cards with several other black men, all who looked up stunned to see this young, put-together blonde calling on them.
"Amos could I have a word with you?" I asked somewhat demurely.
Amos turned with a big smile to the other men—who returned his smile with their own knowing smiles and chuckles—and said, "Sho' babes. No prob."
As we walked out of the room, Amos turned back to the others just before walking out the door and gave them another knowing smile followed by a lewd wink. They all laughed as we left into the hallway.
At this point my face was already red from embarrassment and anger at being treated like a slut.
When we got down the hallway to an area where we could talk, I turned to Amos and said:
"So, you haven't called...what's the deal about that?" I tried to say it casually, but my anger and nervousness betrayed me and Amos could hear desperation in my voice. I was his.
"Babe, it only been a couple a weeks. Jeez, I didn't think you'd be needin' mo' so soon," he chided me with a big condescending grin.
"Look, cut the condescending crap!!!" My voice rose suddenly. Again, giving away my neediness.
"Whoa, whoa there , baby...You sound like you gettin' a little attitude again. Now you remember what happened last time you got some attitude...you wants some mo' dat?" he said referring to the bitch slapping he had given me in the back room of the bar & grill the day he fucked me.
Then his face lit up, "Then again, maybe dats exactly what you want. Huh, babe. I gots a feelin' you liked it a little rough, eh?" he said, crudely smiling down at me.
My face was red and I found myself somewhat dumbfounded at what he'd just accused me of. Maybe because there was much more truth in it than I cared to admit to myself.
Again, I felt my whole body respond to what Amos had said. As I tried to look down to evade his lewd stare I began to feel my breasts lift and swell. My damn nipples again began to protrude to obscene proportions against the tight fabric of the knit dress I was wearing. And my vaginal lips also were swollen and becoming slick in my nylons.
"Could this be?", I thought. Could I have liked the slapping this brute had given me. I remembered that I did feel so secure that day right after he did it. I felt very much in the presence of a man more powerful, more sure of himself, than I was.
And I liked it.
"I didn't like it," I lied.
"Well, you says no...but dese says, oh yessss," he said as he began grasping my breasts and thumbing the nipples.
I was hot and he knew it, this man who had so quickly, and so easily, become my sexual master. And I so much wanted to please him as his sexual slave.
"Baby, why don't chew gets down and do what chew do best, ay?" he suggested.
"I can't, not here. Anyone could see us," I said, though we were in a fairly secluded area.
"Am I hearin' dat you'd be ashamed about bein' seen wit a black man. We coverin' dis ground gin', baby" Amos said menacingly.
"No...no hon, really. You know that. I've told you how I feel before about that..."
"Well, you's gots to show me," Amos responded with an angry, demanding tone as he stood and waited. Waited for 'his woman' to perform.
After a long pause—and after I could no longer bear the building suspense of his angry stare—I reached out and began unbuckling his belt. Belt unbuckled, I began to undue his waist band and unzip his fly.
Soon I was kneeling in front of him, pulling down his trousers and boxers.
I loved smelling the strong musk of his crotch again. I grabbed his gorgeous, humongous dick and started shucking it. Waking the serpent to life, I thought. After all, it had a job to do—and I was the job he needed to do!!!
I found myself shucking and kissing Amos' meaty dick while still intermittently looking over my shoulder and around the area, afraid any minute someone would walk around the corner and discover us.
My God, I thought. What would I say? A Product Marketing Manager sneaking off into the basement to fellate a janitor!
And I being a newlywed at that!!!
There would be no way to ever explain. Besides, how could I explain this to anyone else? I couldn't even explain it to myself.
Amos' hands were in my hair now directing my head and mouth to their labors.
I began sucking him ravenously, wanting to be sure this time that I fully satisfied this man...my man.
I bobbed my head up and down his thickening shaft in an exaggerated manner, pulling and yanking on the thick African meat he offered me, his white slave girl.
Rolling my tongue under and around the sheathed knob of his uncut dick, I worked furiously at giving this hunk of African manhood as much pleasure as I knew how.
My tongue soon found itself probing the flaps of skin that covered the nozzle of his cock until I began to hear him grunting and mumbling to me...
"That's it you white trash, fuckin' ho'. Do what you was made fo', bitch: suckin' a black man's dick. 'Cause dat alls you good fo' slut—cocksuckin'! Cocksuckin' on black dick!"
I knew as he called me cruder and cruder names that he was getting closer and closer to cumming. So I worked harder; pulling, sucking, licking and occasionally pulling off and kissing his massive organ.
He was like steel now and his bloated weapon started to expand to the exploding point.
At this point he pulled it out of my mouth and started jacking it in my face.
"Open wide honky trash!" he commanded.
I opened my mouth submissively and waited. Obeying my master like a dog would, I thought.
Then it came!!! Like a dam bursting he unleashed load after load into my mouth; over my face, forehead, hair and then all over the front of my knit dress...seemingly, for good measure.
I was being covered in the spunk that had impregnated me in our first mating, I thought in the back of my lust driven mind.
I reached up and palmed his over sized testicles, and then began to milk them. Trying to draw out more of the thick, milky sauce that I was already drenched in.
My hair was dripping his semen down the back of my neck. It felt hot, burning, with his potent seed.
What a waste, it seemed to me, of future black manhood.
I licked the gooey wasted seed still dripping and oozing from his dick. I slavered over it, licking and cleaning my man with all the love of my being.
Amos grabbed his dick away from me and slapped my face with it two or three times: "There dats de bitch slappin' you wanted, eh, babe?" he snickered in the most demeaning way a man could to a woman he knew was now his—completely.
"Shit girl, watch you gonna do with that dress you slobbered all over. Hell bitch, yo' sho' is one pig of a bitch."
I looked down at the thick gooey stain that ran down the entire front of my dress, from the neckline down to my navel. I was fully hosed by Amos' powerful loins.
I began to feel very ashamed. I felt like the very whores I had always gossiped about in school when I was homecoming queen and captain of the cheerleading squad.
Now I was on my knees, having just sucked off a 65 year old janitor, and covered in this black man's cum.
I started crying.
"Oh shit, man, let's not get into that sweet meat," he said, getting irritated.
"C'mon," he grunted as he lifted me up and helped me into a side room off the hallway.
He flicked the light on and said he's help me get cleaned up. He found some paper towels and handed them to me as I wiped my face off and blew my nose. I very much wanted his sympathy...and more.
But he was clearly just trying to get his cheap thrill over with so he could get back to work.
I began to cry again as I toweled my sticky hair.
At that, Amos put his arm around me and said, "Hey sweet meat, I'm sorry. Jus' havin' a lil' fun is all, k?"
I nodded my acceptance of his apology. And he started stroking my neck from behind. It felt gentle and so good. Some tenderness, finally, from this brutish man.
Then his hands came around from behind me and started kneading my tits. First gently, then more roughly. I could feel his hardening dick nudging between my ass cheeks. Even through my dress and his pants, it was so large I could feel every minute detail of its outline, from the veins to the thickening plum-sized knob.
Without any further words or warning, Amos lifted my dress up and over my head.
"Shit, I needs you agin', bitch," he exclaimed.
"Get the bra off.." he demanded. I brought my arms down from trying instinctively to cover my breasts. After pausing a brief moment, I reached behind my shoulder blades and undid my brassiere. I let it slide down my arms to my hands and through it to the floor.
"Get those off," he motioned to my pantyhose even as he was undoing and pulling off his pants.
I peeled down my hose which were wet in the crotch--which had now become so common for me, especially, when around Amos—stepped out of my heels and kicked them off.
Amos had glanced at the wetness in my hose and mumbled, "Horny toad..."
He pulled his shirt off and was naked now except for his boots. I put my heels back on and stood naked before him.
"Turn around and bend over!"
I did as commanded and leaned onto a desk in the shabby room. I felt his fat knob start to rub itself up and down my slick gash.
With little hesitation, he pushed in and then pulled my hips back onto his long thick spear, impaling me with all 12" of his sex.
He began to pound it into me! I felt for sure someone would hear the loud slapping of his hips to my ass, as well as our grunting as we mated violently in the dank room.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Again and again he drove his powerful rod into my sore, but hungry, pussy.
His huge black hands mauled my tits roughly. He pulled and pinched my nipples making me scream in both pain and lust. I felt like a cow being milked by its owner. And I loved it.
Soon the entire room was smelling of our musky mating activity.
Then Amos grabbed a handful of my hair, yanked my head back, slammed deep into me and spewed his molten, black seed deep into my belly.
"You my breeding mare, Leasa baby," he grunted as his stallion sized dick began to swell and spew...and swell and spew...over and over again: delivering its lava-like, African sperm to my womb.
When he was done. He silently, and casually, got dressed and started to leave the room.
"Are you done?" I said sarcastically and angrily.
"Yep," he replied without feeling.
I paused not knowing what to say...my anger drained away as I realized he was about to leave and felt no guilt...and little interest.
"Will I see you again, " I asked, but in such a way that it was clear I was pleading.
"We'll see." he said, and was gone.
I got dressed. Walked out to my car trying to cover the huge stain that ran down my dress and got in.
As I started to drive out of the lot to go home and change I saw Amos out in the lot with some of the other black maintenance guys laughing and high fiving each other.
I drove home in a daze, recalling how my father would always refer to me as his "Aryan Princess"...
I thought, what if he saw me now. Driving home after having sucked and fucked a black janitor, older than him.
I thought, I should go and visit my dad; get back to my roots.