Post Coital Suggestion Ch. 01

Then he and Kris were tugging at my panties, forcing my legs together so they could get them off, and T, with his massive body, was rolling on top of me. He propped himself with one hand, and with the other, he guided the head of his erect penis to the slippery folds of my vagina. His belly rubbed on mine while he grunted and pushed, finally working the swollen head inside me. I nearly jumped off the bed. "Oh, God!" It felt as if he'd pushed his fist up inside me, it was so thick.

"Dat's right, bitch, dat's what a real cock feels like, gonna teach you what it means to get a real fuckin!" He removed his hand and thrust again, wedging more of his gross manhood into me. With that, he started moving in and out, just that much of him, getting himself good and slick, getting me a little looser. Then, with a sudden thrust, he shoved more of his erection into me, making me grunt with pain. Again, he slid in and out that way for a a while, wetting himself in me, preparing me before using his enormous weight to drive even more of himself into my tight canal.

Again and again, he used this method to insert more of himself until I felt his glans pushing painfully at my cervix. Now his thrusts hit home there again and again, sending shocks of pain radiating through my body. I had beey lying silent, nearly limp, just trying to survive his onslaught, but this frightened me. Between thrusts, I grunted, "Please. no... more.. can't.. take.. more.. no... more.. room..."

Kris lying beside me, watching mostly, though he toyed with my nipples from time to time, chuckled. "Oh, it'll fit sooner or later, Becky. T here has turned more than one white girl into a bcs. He knows what he's doing." "BCS?" I thought? What in the hell is he talking about?

T was sweating now, dripping onto my face and chest as he thrust into me over and over and over again. His massive tool slid in and out of me more easily now. I was secretly glad that I'd already had two children. I was sure it made it easier to adjust to his size. I tried to lie quietly, just letting him use my vagina for his dirty purposes, waiting for him to finish. I hoped he was "clean" but I wasn't worried about pregnancy. I was on the pill.

T kept thrusting against my cervix, though it hurt less and less as the minutes passed. Then he lowered his bulk onto me, covering me completely. He felt so heavy, I could hardly breathe. With his massive hands, he reached down, pressing me into the mattress and grabbing my buttocks with both hands, he nearly doubled the rate of his thrusts. By this point, with Richard, he'd have long since cum and fallen asleep, but this behemoth was just finding his pace, he lifted my hips slightly with his hands, adjusting his angle, and suddenly, I could feel his heavy testicles resting against my butt.

He was all the way inside me! His groin ground against mine, rubbing fiercely against my clitoris, and I squealed. Kris said, "Ya know, big man, I think she's starting to get into it! See if you can make her cum!"

T grunted and started rutting wildly, holding me close against him as he rocked his hips, forcing all of his swollen manhood into my belly with aggressive thrusts, slamming himself between my legs and smashing into my tender clitty again and again and again. In spite of myself, my determination not to participate, I found my breath coming faster, my heart pounding. I could hardly move, but my toes started to curl as the sensations from my over-stretched vagina intensified. I heard someone whimpering with each of T's thrusts, and knew it must be me.

"That's it, big man, fuck the bitch... fuck that sweet pussy. She about to cum."

If only these men had been like Richard. If only they'd been satisfied to "get their rocks off' and go to sleep. But they weren't. They seemed determined to witness my orgasm, to reduce me to that for their own pleasure. And, in another minute or two, T succeeded. I felt the orgasm building, but didn't want to climax. "Please... no... don't.. make... me..." I begged him between thrusts, gasping for air beneath his bulk. He just chuckled, his body sliding slippery against mine, covered with sweat, soaking my nightgown. Thrust after thrust, he only seemed to push harder, determined to drive me to an unwanted orgasm.

I couldn't resist it any more. My back arched, my knees drew up and out, my fingers gripped handsful of egyptian cotton and I came, moaning loudly. I got much, much wetter, my vagina spasming, gripping T's offending member tightly as it continued its onslaught. Having achieved what he wanted, he gave in to his own lust, thrusting wildly between my legs until I felt him explode inside me, shooting 6 months of frustration into my body. He lay heavily on me, holding his spurting penis as deeply as he could between short, powerful thrusts, emptying himself. It seemed to take forever for his orgasm to end. I thought at the time, (incorrectly) that this was because it had been so long since he'd had a woman, but no matter the reason, when he was done, I was lying in a small puddle of semen.

He and I lay there, panting, sweating, joined together as his erection ebbed. At last he rolled off, and I tugged at the sheet to cover up. Kris laughed. "You ain't done yet, girlie, not by a long shot."

"What? But, I'm a mess!"

"Don't matter none. Niggas, we used to sharin'. Open up, Becky," he said with another laugh, rolling on top of me.

"Oh.. god.... " as he rolled over me, I felt his stiff manhood slide across my thigh, and it felt as hot as a branding iron. I lay there, limp, spent. I couldn't imagine why he'd want to put himself into my semen-soaked slit. Then, resting his weight on one hand, Kris took one of mine in his other. "Show me where to put it, Becky. Put it where you want it." He guided my hand to his erection, and I tensed as my fingers closed around it, feeling it's length and thickness. I shuddered, and slipped the spongy glans between my slick labia. "Is that where you want it? Huh? You want my fat, nigga cock in your married white pussy? Huh?"

I rubbed it up and down over my clitoris, hoping that would be answer enough. I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud, but he would have it no other way. "Is that where you want it? Tell me?" I nodded. "SAY IT!" he said in a commanding tone.

I nearly whispered, "Yes, that's where I want it."

Kris chuckled. "That'll do, for now..." He pushed his hips forward, and slide smoothly inside me, I was stretched out enough now that his girth didn't hurt, just made me feel wonderfully full. Plus, I was sloppy with T's goo, so I was very well lubricated. I put my hands on his hips, feeling his hard muscles as he drove his hips forward, taking more and more of my well-used vagina with each thrust.

Then I gasped when I felt him strike bottom in me, forcefully. He started smashing against my cervix over and over again. My toes curled and I squealed with each impact. "Oh, did I forget to tell you? I"m not quite as thick as T, but I got two inches on him. Ya gonna get a whole foot of black dick this time, Becky!" His body suspended above mine, not rubbing all over me like T did, Kris hammered mercilessly at my vagina, gradually forcing more and more of his enormous tool up into me. I grunted with pain at every thrust. He practically drove the breath out of me, the way he worked me over.

His pace was much faster than T's, and when the pain subsided, he brought me toward an orgasm much more quickly. Unable to restrain myself, I lifted my knees and dug my fingers into his back, urging him to bring me to climax. This time, it was T laughing. "Yeah, she wantin' it bad, bro. Do her good, she be beggin' for it soon."

Kris grunted his agreement and quickened his pace again, slapping noisily between my thighs, bouncing his testicles off my bottom until I started to climax. I cried out loudly as the orgasm overwhelmed me, expecting Kris to follow shortly, but he didn't. Untouched by my own ecstasy, he just kept his hips going, filling me again and again with his sweet heat. My orgasm seemed to double on itself, intensifying when it was supposed to decline, then doubling again. I started to get scared. I was losing it, or so I thought. I'd never felt anything so intense.

"Please.. Kris... no... no.. no more.. no.. HELP!" I lay beneath him, thrashing wildly, eyes rolling up in my head, totally out of control, totally lost in an earth-shattering orgasm.

"I am helping you Becky. Helping you a lot. Now you know what every fuck should feel like... " He grunted, tensed, and erupted inside me. He just held it there, perfectly still but for the twitches and spurts of his penis. I could feel every one of them, and each one felt like a gift from the gods, a thunderbolt of pleasure and satisfaction that turned me inside out and back again.

When at last it ended, I was barely conscious. Kris rolled off and lay beside me, his arm over my quivering belly. "She won't be going anywhere," he said quietly to T, and then I was asleep.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When I woke, the sunlight was pouring through my bedroom windows, but at at unusual angle. Instead of streaming across the bed as it usually did in the morning, it was striking the floor beside the window, as it did during the summers, in the afternoon! I jumped out of the bed, naked, and memories of the night before flooded my head, nearly knocking to the floor. There was a pleasant soreness between my legs, and I could feel dried semen on my skin. Sitting heavily on the side of the bed, I thought, "Oh, god, what have I done?"

"Finally woke up, huh?" T's deep voice shocked me out of my shameful memories. I jumped a little, turned to see him sitting uncomfortably in one of the two chairs in our "sitting area." "Been waitin' here all fuckin' mornin'. Mah man said I couldn't wake ya up, said to let you sleep, but couldn't leave you alone, 'case you tried to run." Well, now we can get the fuck outta here, get down, get some food."

"Can't I shower first?" I asked, looking down at the dried man-juices all over my legs and buttocks.

"After. First I gotta eat. Come downstairs with me, then you can shower."

I went to the closet stripped off my sweat-soaked nightie and took down my robe.

"No clothes. That's Kris' word. No clothes. Just like you are."

I stared at him, dumfounded, with the robe covering my front as it hung from both hands at my neck. "Not even this?"

"Nothin'. Just put it back, and let's go, I'm about to fuckin' starve."

Slowly, I hung my robe on its plastic hanger, and followed T downstairs in my "altogehter," as my mother would have said. I blushed from head to toes, I'm sure, as I presented myself, a sticky, naked mess, in the kitchen. Kris spoke first.

"Good, 'bout time you got your lazy ass outta the bed," he said, without any anger. "We need some food. How 'bout you fix us some eggs and shit. It's late, but what the fuck." I was so embarrassed, I could hardly move. I kept dropping things as I got out the skillet and makings for bacon and sausage. I had some biscuits from the day before, and I dropped that plate to the floor, where it shattered on my new ceramic tile.

"Whatsamatter, girl?" asked Kris. "You upset about something?"

My fear and shame exploded to the surface. "Upset about something? Are you kidding? Last night, to strange black men invaded my home and then raped me. And now I'm standing naked in my kitchen, with their semen covering half my skin, and I have to cook for them?? Are you kidding?" I stood there, shaking with the cast iron skillet in my hand.

Kris laughed first, and then T joined in. They laughed so hard it doubled them over. I had thoughts of banging them on the head with the skillet and trying to run, but I didn't think I could get them both. When he caught his breath, Kris stood up and answered.

"Okay, first, we gotta work on your vo-cab-u-larry. You still talkin' like a white girl. First thing, we didn't invade yo' fuckin' house, we just came to borrow it. If your man had a lick o' sense, he'd have your pretty white ass along with him on that damned fishin' trip. No way I'd leave an ass like yours behind if you was MY wife. So, if you get in-con-venienced a little by our visit here, ain't nobody's fault but his.

Second thing is, I ain't no rapist. See, a rapist don't give a shit if a girl cum or not, he just wanna get ova on her. Now, me an' T? We made you cum last night, didn't we?" I stood there, mute and motionless. "Didn't we??" he said, more demandingly. I nodded, ashamed. "Yeah, tha's fuckin' right you cummed. Shit girl, you was about tah fuckin' pass out. Bet you ain't neva cummed so good in your whole fuckin' life, have ya?" I shook my head. It was true, I'd never expereinced an orgasm like the ones I'd had the night before.

And girls who love to fuck as much as you obviously do, they don't say shit like "semen." Okay? It's cum. Ya got cum all over ya, and it looks good.

Now, about bein' nekkid. I wouldn't be worryin' about that too much. You gonna be nekkid the whole damn, week, so get used to it. You got a hot fuckin' body, and a nigga wanna see it. This nigga wanna see it. Now, cook us some breakfast, and you can go get a shower.

I glared at him for a moment, then turned my back and went to the refrigerator to get out eggs and some sausage links. I fixed them scrambled eggs with diced peppers and sausage, with some orange juice and coffee on the side. Kris made me sit at the table with them, still naked, while they ate. "Can't go up there alone, Beck. Might decide to go out a window or somethin'. You still don't know what you are. When you do, I'll be able to trust you."

What I am? I had no idea what the hell he was talking about, but I sat there in the breakfast nook, fuming, waiting for them to finish eating so T could go up and supervise my shower. At last they finished and I was permitted to go and wash. The smell of the semen, of the "cum" in the bathroom was powerful. It triggered a lot of unwelcome responses in my body. I became uncomfortably aware of my nether regions, the swelling and tenderness that had resulted from the incredible beating I'd taken the night before. It wasn't pain, just sensitivity, and the sensitivity felt too close to arousal. I pushed the ideas away and finished washing, dried off and walked as normally as I could back to the den, where Kris was watching one of Richard's Steven Segal dvd's on the big set.

"Now what?"

He glanced over. "Well, unless you're in a hurry to fuck again, do whatever you want for a while. T and me, we'll take turns keeping an eye on ya. He got duty till the movie's over, then it's back to me." He stopped and waited for several pregnant seconds before asking. "Unless you wanna fuck again right away?"

"No, no way!" I shook my head and barked my answer.

"Fine, fine. Later then." He turned his back on me and watched the movie.

T followed me around that afternoon as I collected clothing from the boys' rooms and did laundry. I might have forgotten that I wasn't wearing any clothes if he hadn't stared at me the way he did. There was no mistaking his intention. He wanted me to see that he was staring, and he wanted it to affect me. It did.

At first, it made me embarrassed. I know I'd had him grinding away between my legs the night before, but it was dark. Here it was, in broad daylight, and my nakedness clearly excited him. He grabbed his crotch from time to time. It always seemed that he did it when I was looking his way, too.

After an hour or so, though, the embarrassment faded. Instead, I kept remembering the sensations his thick member had created in me, the reasons for my tenderness that made my heartbeat accelerate, my breath shorten. His stares gradually ceased to be insults, and became comments on my desirability. By the time Kris relieved him, I was washing the sheets from my bedroom, and my stomach was turning nervous flip-flops.

"Washin' the sheets, huh?"

"Yeah, they were a mess, soaked with sem.. er.. with... cum."

"Yeah, T's a big cummer."

"You mean, he does that all the time? I thought it was, because of the time in.. in prison."

Kris laughed. "Nah, you think he didn't jerk off the whole time? Shit, that man was jerkin' is dick two, three times a day. And he cums like that every fuckin' time. Bitches love it."

I shuddered, thinking about T's capacity, and about how much I'd enjoyed it, too. I must've blushed or something. Kris noticed. "You liked it too, huh?" I didn't answer, pretending to be busy shaking out a sheet before stuffing it in the washing machine. "Well, didn't you?" Again that demanding tone. I looked up.

"Yeah, I guess I did."

"Now, see, that wasn't so hard was it? Becky, by the time we leave, you gonna get over this shit and get comfortable with that, "inner slut" you got. I just stared at him, open-mouthed. "Yeah, that's right. I could tell from the first. You one serious slut inside. Ya just need to let it loose."

He walked off, sitting in the kitchen where he could see into the laundry room. I finished starting the laundry, then went and got some chicken out of the freezer to thaw for supper.

With nothing more to do, I went into the den with T. Kris followed. T was in the recliner, so I sat on the couch. The leather felt strange against my bare buttocks. I squirmed a bit and had just about found a comfortable position when Kris plopped down beside me. I tensed as he scooted up against me. "Becky, I meant to thank you for these clothes. I seen those pics of your husband. These, and the ones I found for T, they can't be his. How come you got stuff this big? Boyfriend?" He laughed, patting my bare leg. He left his hand there, and I was afraid to remove it.

"No, those are clothes we collected for the thrift shop downtown. Glad you could find something that fits." I tried to focus my attention on the television, but Kris kept squeezing and rubbing. My breathing got short as his intenitons became clear. My heart was pounding, and my previously abused vagina began to tingle. When I shifted, I could feel my own wetness on the leather of the couch.

"Now, Becky, some'll tell ya that niggas, we don't eat pussy, and that's just a lie. See, we eat pussy all right, but just to get pussy ready to fuck. We don't do it like white boys do. They eat pussy cuz they think they need to, cuz they can't please a woman like we can, so they gotta make up for it. I ain't neva gonna eat you till you cum, cuz I don't gotta. I'm gonna make ya cum all over my big, black cock. But white pussy, it's tight, and it helps to get it good and wet, don't it T?"

All through this long little speech, his hand was rubbing up and down my leg. When he finished, T answered. "Yeah, that's about it. Ya do what ya gotta do to get the pussy ready." He chuckled and kris rolled off the couch, kneeling in front of me.

"Open your legs, Becky." Slowly, I parted my knees. "Nice, I love a shaved pussy." He smiled as he lowered his face between my legs, his tongue out. I leaned back, closing my eyes and gritting my teeth. I groaned through those teeth as Kris reached up, spread my labia and started lapping at my clitoris. T laughed louder. Over and over again, he dragged his tongue up over the opening to my vagina and across my swelling clit.

I couldn't stop myself. My hands went to his head, holding it, feeling the tight curls of his hair close to his head under my fingertips. I slid down in the couch, pushing my hips forward and lifting them slightly. I moaned more and more loudly as he continued his attack. Then, suddenly, as I began to give in fully to the feelings radiating from my crotch, he stopped. Just stopped. "Okay, your turn, Beck. Got ya ready, now you get me ready." He was sitting next to me, waiting.

T smiled knowingly as I slid off the couch and took a position on my knees between Kris' spread legs. He made me reach up and undo his belt and zipper, and then pull down his jeans. He had on no undewear. "Commando. You didn't have any shorts the right size." In the light, Kris' huge penis seemed more imposing as I wrapped my hand around it and lifted it to my mouth. He grinned and grunted when I started to suck it. "Good, good," he muttered, his head back, eyes shut. He twitched in my hand, growing steadily harder and longer. I sucked and stroked, eyes watching for a reaction, getting none other than a small moan every once in a while.