Post Coital Suggestion Ch. 01

The story you are about to read includes very explicit reference to sex. If you are not old enough to read this story where you live, or if you object to frank language about sex, please read no further.

If, however, you enjoy sexual fantasies and a bit of humor along the way, please read on!

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Hi, my name is Becky, and I live a life that I could never have imagined. I have a husband and two wonderful children, but they don't know about me. At least, I hope they don't. You see, I have absolutely no way to say no to black men. When I'm near them, my whole body responds, and when they speak to me, all I can say is, "Where? When? How?"

It all started this way:

"Bye, y'all! Be careful! Bring back lots of fish!"

I waved goodbye my Richard, my husband, and Jason and Mike, our sons, as they pulled out of the driveway for their first ever "Men only fishing trip." It was a tradition that Richard's dad had started, something he enjoyed so much that he insisted that he take the boys once a year on a fishing expedition. This year, they were going salt-water fishing, to the ocean. Just a little pier fishing, but it still made me nervous. I watched them roll away hoping they'd all come home to me safe at the end of the week.

They had decided to go during the week after Easter, because Richard said the fishing was better when the water was cooler, so I had the week to myself. I still wasn't sure what I was going to do with all this time, but I figured I'd do a few things for myself. A spa day, that sort of thing.

I didn't even have a job to fill up the days. Richard and I had agreed that we wanted the boys to have a mom at home, at least until they started school. Jason was in second grade, and Mike was in half-day kindergarten, but I hadn't yet returned to work. I had been talking to a local PR firm in Charlotte, but I was still wanting to work part-time, and they weren't looking for a part time person.

So, I walked back into the house and got my car keys. I took my Taurus to the grocery store, to buy food for the week. I loaded up on things that I like, things the boys would never eat, and that I missed, and a couple bottles of good Pinot Grigio, and put them into my trunk to go home. We lived then, and live now, in a house on the outskirts of Charlotte. A nice two story colonial, on a wooded half-acre lot that had lots of privacy. Arriving at home, I fixed myself some linguine and scallops with a light wine sauce, and finished the rest of the bottle, which was the beginning of it all.

I drank all the wine because I was feeling a bit lonely and sorry for myself, sitting in that big house, all alone, and then I fell asleep in the den, in Richard's big, overstuffed recliner, watching his big plasma tv. And I forgot to turn on the alarm. Since that time, I've wondered if I did that unconsciously, but intentionally. I don't know, but I might have.

I woke up when the door from the garage into the house opened. I was disoriented, couldn't remember why I was in Richard's chair, couldn't remember why I had a dry mouth and a bit of a headache. Then I heard footsteps, and my heart jumped into my throat. Richard kept a gun in the hall closet, but the ammunition was hidden in our room. Besides, I've never been comfortable with guns, so instead of fighting, I decided to hide. Whoever it was wasn't turning on lights, so I thought I could hide well enough under the wet bar in the back of the den. I crawled back there and tucked myself under the bar as the footsteps headed up the stairs to the bedrooms.

I thought about trying to get to the phone in the kitchen, but then I heard a second set of footsteps on the first floor, in that part of the house. I felt my waist, finding the clip for my cell phone, but no phone. No way to summon help, so I tried to be as silent as possible.

I nearly screamed though, when I heard a voice, just the other side of the bar, yelling. "Hey, Kris, you find anybody up there?" Then the answer, "No, bro, not a one. I told ya, I saw 'em leaving with a car full of luggage and fishing gear and shit. They'll be gone a long time. We can hang here the whole week I bet." So, this Kris saw Richard leaving with the boys, and thought I was in the car. They were looking for a place to stay.

I heard a click and the pole lamp in the far corner of the den came on. I was still hidden, but if either of the two men came behind the bar, I was in plain sight. It was all I could do not to cry. I was shaking so badly I thought I'd make the bar rattle. I heard footsteps clunking much more noisily down the stairs. Hey.. T. Here's some real clothes. Put 'em on. No need to wearin' them grays no more."

"Thanks. Man, I'm tired of wearin that same shit every day. Gonna get me some decent shit first thing we get outta here. I bet these folks got some good shit, too, stuff we could take to Mack, get some cash."

"No, shithead, that ain't the plan. We steal shit, the cops'll be all over this place, and sooner or later, they'll figure out it was us, and they'll be back on our trail. No, we leave it how we found it, and just use this place to lay low a while till they lose the scent. By then, they'll figure we're in the City, or in Mexico or some shit. Just be cool, and work the plan."

"Yeah, yeah... whateva... shit." I heard Richard's recliner groan as T collapsed into it. He had to be big. It was a big, sturdy chair. "I guess I could like bein' here for a week or so. Gonna be like a a fuckin' hotel."

"A hotel with a fuckin' bar!" said Kris. "Want a drink? I don't think the three bears will miss a couple shots o' Jack." Footsteps got closer. I tried to melt into the floor. There was no way to hide, no place to go. He was coming around! I was going to be found!

At first, the man didn't notice me, but I saw him. He was dressed in gray pants and a matching plain gray shirt. He had his back to me, getting a glasses down off the shelf behind the bar. Across the back of the shirt it said, "Property: Dept. of Corrections." Oh god. Convicts. They would kill me. I couldn't help giving a tiny little scream as he turned and I saw his eyes flash to the human form curled beneath the bar.

"Well, damn! Whatta we got here?" He reached down and took me by the wrist, pulling me upward, but I was locked in a tiny ball, unable to relax. He pulled harder. "C'mon, lady, get up. How come you're here? Your old man leave you here all alone?" He was laughing, but I could tell he was a little worried. He hadn't expected to find anyone. He wanted to be alone in the house for a week. I was in the way. I was in deep shit.

T jumped out of the chair when he saw me. "Holy fuck! Who da fuck you got there?"

"Must be the guy's wife. Thought she was gone. Guess I'm wrong."

"No shit. Whatta we gonna do with her?"

"Well, I'm not quite sure. Sure as fuck messes up the plan, don't it? Still, she ain't goin' no place, and I don't think she can even talk, she's so fuckin' scared. Lemme think on it."

T walked closer. "Yeah, you think. She hot, though, ain't she. Lookin' awful good. Been a loooong time, knowhatimean?" T must have been 6'4" at least, arms as big as Richard's thighs, a bit of a gut on him, but he looked big, like a football lineman, strong, heavy. He must've weighed 270. As he talked, his huge meathook of a hand stretched out and caressed my butt. I was still in my clothes from the day before, canary yellow shorts, cuffed, not terribly short, and a white sleeveless blouse, buttoned. I shook like a leaf in a windstorm at his touch.

"Do you talk, bitch?" he asked. I nodded. "Then, talk, dammit! Say somethin'. Shit!"

"Please, don't hurt me." I whispered. They both laughed heartily.

"Nah, I ain't gonna hurt ya, baby. I steal shit, I don't hurt people. And T? He ran numbers and shit, but he wasn't the enforcer. He's gentle as a lamb, aintcha, big man?" They both got another big laugh out of that. "Naw, we ain't gonna hurt ya, but he's right. You do look good."

I should stop here to introduce myself a little better. You know my family a little. I'm 34, 5'4" tall, and I weigh 128 pounds. I have a decent figure for a woman with two kids, a nice slim waist thanks to lots of pilates, and a 34c chest. Richard says I have a perfect heart shaped ass. I think it's a little too big, but he likes it. So did T. I have hazel eyes, medium brown hair, hanging just beyond my shoulders.

Oh, and Kris. If he hadn't been breaking into my house, I'd have said he was an attractive man, about 6 feet tall, 180, with a shaved head that looked like it had been made to be shaved. He had large, dark eyes and a smile that made his cheeks dimple.

T gave my butt a little squeeze, making me jump. "Yeah, you go 6 months without even a whif o' pussy, they all start to look good, but you.. you really are hot." A small mewling escaped my lips.

Kris chuckled. "Whatsamatter, girl? Don't like a compliment from a nigga? You a racist or somethin?"

"No, no!" I blurted out, shaking my head furiously.

"Oh, so you not a racist? Then, you musta fucked a few niggas along the way, cuz I know they been wantin' to tap that ass. You got some FINE ass, girl." He smiled, releasing my wrist as he talked, confident that I was too frightened to try to run. "So, you fucked some niggas then, huh?"

"Uh.. well.. no.. not exactly."

"What? You mean no nigga eva tried to hit that? I don't believe it. You are a racist bitch!"

"No.. no.. really.. .I uh.. I just.. no one ever.. I mean.. I .. oh.. god.. I don't know what I mean... " I broke down, crying.

"Now, now, no need to be doin' that. You got a name, girl?" I nodded. It was strange, being called "girl" by a man who appeared to be almost 10 years younger than men. (T looked to be about my age.)

"I'm uh.. I'm Becky."

"Okay, Becky, now, you stop that cryin' you hear? I never liked hearin' a bitch cry, 'cept maybe in the middle of a gang bang. Now, I heard a few bitches cry then, cummin' so hard they laugh and cry all at the same time. Now that's a kind of cryin' a man likes to hear!" He and T laughed again.

"So, you ain't neva had a nigga dick in ya, huh?" I shook my head. "But, if a nigga was to ask, you wouldn't say no, would ya?"

"But, I'm married!"

"Yeah, I know that, but, I mean, if you wasn't. You'd fuck a nigga if he was to want some o' that, right?"

"I.. I suppose."

"Well, now, that's a good thing, see, 'cause me and T, we gonna be here a while, but I guess you heard that. We need to lay low a few days, and you gonna be right here with us, and, well... You heard T. He ain't had no pussy but his right hand for about 6 months. Me? I been in nearly a years, so, I figger, sooner or later, nature gonna take its course. Knowhatimean?"

I'm sure he could seen in my eyes that I knew exactly what he meant. He smiled confidently. "Why don't you just go fix us somethin' to eat. We ain't had nothin' good in a long, long time. Whatcha got?"

"Uh.. there are some steaks in the freezer."

"Steaks! You hear that, T? She gonna cook us a steak. Good, that's good. Go on, girl, go fix us a steak. T, why don't you go keep an eye on the cookin'. I'll fix us all a drink. Yeah, this gonna be good. See? Now when her old man comes home, he gonna figure she drank all his booze!"

T hesitated, looking back. "You gonna leave her here?"

Kris grinned. "Oh, I might. I think she gonna understand, before we go, how she don't want us gettin' caught. I think, by the end of the week, we gonna be real good friends."

I shuddered at the thought of what he meant by "friends," and went to thaw two steaks at 2:30 in the morning.

I used the microwave to thaw the meat with T keeping a close eye on me. He'd seen the wireless phone in the kitchen and confiscated it. He and Kris collected them all, and my cell phone, too. T stayed with me in the kitchen, watching me closely, and not because he was afraid I'd run. My knees were so weak I could barely stand. There was absolutely no risk I'd try to run anywhere. No, he was staring at my ass most of the time. The rest of the time, he was looking at my chest or my legs, hungrily. He looked like he'd rather eat me than the steaks.

I prepared a salad to go with the steaks, and nuked two potatoes. Kris had me serve them in the den. He was watching a late-night movie on Richard's huge plasma tv. I sat between them silently while they inhaled the red meat, potatoes, and greens, nodding and saying how good it all was. Not that I cared, but I did want them to like it so they wouldn't hurt me, or do something worse.

Full stomachs, a half bottle of Richard's bourbon, and the late hour finally made them sleepy. This was, I hoped, going to be my opportunity. If they'd just nod off watching the tv!

But no. Kris must have read my mind. "Ya know, Becky, me and T, we need some sleep. Been up since the middle of last night. I hate to tie you up all night. I think I got a suggestion. T? When I was upstairs, I saw the biggest fuckin' bed you ever saw." I guessed that he meant the king in Richard's and my bedroom. "I figure, we put her in between us, we can all get some shuteye, and nobody has to be tied up. You think you'd wake up if Becky here tried to get outta the bed?"

"Shit,yeah, Kris. I used to sleep with one eye open anyhow. No problem." He grinned lasciviously. I wasn't sure if he intended to sleep or not. Kris didn't seem to care.

They took me upstairs, to our bedroom. We have a large bedroom, 16x20. In addition to the king sized four-poster, Richard has his armoir, and I have an 8' dresser with a big mirror. There is a small seating group in one corner, and a large master bath off the bedroom with a tiled shower and vanity. When we got to the room, the men started to undress. I turned my back, blushing.

"Whatsamatter, Beck? Never seen a man naked? That's how I sleep, sorry. T too. Now, climb in the middle there, T, you get on that side, I'll take the other." I turned, trying to keep my eyes lowered, but I think they wanted me to see them. They were both so close that I couldn't avoid seeing their oversized penises dangling between their legs. My breath caught in my throat, from embarrassment, I'm sure, though my heart did speed up a bit, too.

I crawled onto the bed, fully clothed. I even had my shoes on.

"Now, Becky. I bet you don't want those nasty shoes on you those classy sheets. You wear those into the bed, I'm gonna think you wanna run away, and I might have to tie you up. C'mon, kick em off." He and T were standing naked on either side of the bed. without looking, I did as he asked. I lay down.

"You really wear your clothes to bed? All that? Hmm.. I think she really does hate us niggas, T. She don't wanna risk touchin' any black skin." He said then next with a real sense of menace in his voice. "Yeah.. she's a fuckin' racist after all."

"No.. no.. really.. I'm not.. I uh.. I was just so nervous.. I forgot... um.. I can change.. into nightclothes.. if you want... really!"

"Well, now, that would go a long way to make me think you're not a hater. It would."

T sat on the side of the bed as I got off and went to my dresser to find some pajamas. I pulled open the drawer. Kris moved over next to me, very close, his nakedness making me terribly nervous. I fished for my old, comfortable flannel pj's, but Kris' hand reached in, pulled out a nightgown. "This oughta do, wear this." He held it up, a fairly short negligee, but at least it was opaque, antique white. I grimaced, took it from his hand and headed for the bathroom.

"Where ya goin' Becky?"

"The bathroom? To change?"

"T, go with her to the bathroom." I blurted out a "No!" and they laughed. "Okay, Becky, we'll look away, you change quick."

They both turned their backs and I stripped quickly, putting the negligee over my panties. I ran and jumped into the bed, pulling covers up to my chin, shivering more with nerves than the cool of the sheets. I lay there on my back, staring at the ceiling as they climbed in on either side of me, T on my left, Kris on my right. They rolled onto their sides, both facing me, and got very still. I thought that they might actually fall asleep, though I knew that I would not. I lay there, listening to their breathing as it slowed.

An hour, or maybe two hours later, I was still wide awake. I thought they were asleep, but then I heard T stirring. His hand slowly snaked below the sheet until it rested on my belly. I think I held my breath, hoping this was an accident, but his hand started to slide up until it cupped my breast. At that point, I gasped. I tried to push his hand away, but he wouldn't be refused. He was so strong that I couldn't even budge his hand as he twirled my nipple between his finger and thumb. I gritted my teeth and struggled not to make noise. He squeezed my whole tit in his hand, gradually harder and harder until I moaned. That must have been what he wanted to hear, because his grip relaxed. Then, the huge hand began to slide lower, leaving my left nipple throbbing. He rubbed my belly through the silk, then continued to move his fingers southward until he was rubbing my thigh.

I guess I made some little sound, because I heard T chuckle. He squeezed my leg, then slid his fingers up under my nightgown until they were touching the crotch of my panties. Though my legs were pressed tightly together, he had no difficulty pushing a couple of the between my legs. He started to rub my vulva through the cotton of my panties. Slowly, slowly, his fingertips moved up and down along my slit, turing my body to ice. I was incredibly tense, every muscle so tight that you could have picked me up by my one foot, and my whole body would have moved.

I just lay there, eyes clamped shut, shivering as he rubbed me. Though I knew it was coming, I was still shocked when he tugged at my panties, pushing his fingers through the leghole to touch me more directly. I gasped, and I heard a chuckle from my right. Kris was watching all this. Damn. I'd been hoping he was asleep, at least.

He lay there watching as his friend played with me. T's hand left my crotch, but only to slide up under my nightie to my breasts again, this on bare flesh, touching my tummy, playing with both nipples now, chuckling as he drew gasps and groans from me, tweaking one tit then the other. They seemed so be going so slowly, playing with me. I almost wished they'd get on with things and rape me, get it over with.

It wasn't a surprise then, when I felt Kris' foot slide across the bed and catch my right one. He pulled my leg to the side, so that when T's hand drifted down again, he could get better access to my panties. T joined him, catching my other foot and spreading my legs a little more, then pushed my panties to the side, and inserted his finger between the halves of my mound. I heard him grunt approval, and then I felt why. His finger was sliding slickly in and out of the entrance to my vagina. I was wet.

I melted with shame, realizing that my body was telling him I wanted something I didn't want at all. I started to cry silently, and crying, I relaxed slightly. T seemed to take this as an invitation, and he pushed his finger into me to the second knuckle. This time, I gasped aloud, groaning a little as well. Both the men laughed. T spoke, "Ya know, bro, bitch is wet already, like she been layin' here waitin' fo' it."

"Shoulda known, big man. The white ones that say they don't want it? They the ones want it most. You want to hit it first?"

"Fuck yeah, bitch got me rock hard already, and she ain't even touched it." I whimpered. "That's right, bitch, I got ten hard inches fo' ya, so get ready." Ten inches? Ten inches? That was nearly twice the size of my husband's erect penis. How could he get that into me? I started to cry more openly, but it didn't seem to matter to either of them. T just kept fingering me, more and more vigorously, working two, then three fingers into my vagina, getting me "ready." I just lay there, my legs parted, eyes shut, wishing it were over.