Red Riding 'HoodbySweetestThing©
Good Evening, Boys and Ghouls.
Below is my spooktacular entry into this year's Halloween story contest. I've entered it into the interracial category but there are also elements of non-consent/reluctance to it as well as some other stuff. I know that it's a category that not everyone likes and it's a bit of a departure for me but if you give it a chance you may see how, in it's own way, it fits into some of my other stories. You may even come to like it, mua-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ack *cough* *wheeze*
Sorry about that. No more talking like Mrs. Cryptkeeper. Word of genuine warning, I do drop the dreaded N-bomb at one point in the story which I hope doesn't offend and can be read in context.
The street was dark. So dark that I was beginning to have second thoughts about my decision to walk to where I was going. It was only a short trip from the bus stop to where I was going but when I'd first envisioned the neighbourhood I was walking through I'd pictured it like the clean, suburban neighbourhood I'd grown up in with well lit sidewalks and pristine houses. It hadn't taken me long to realize that wasn't going to be the case. This was clearly a bad part of town. I'd seen enough movies to recognize the ghetto. Small, dingy looking houses with heavy metal bars on the doors. I felt ridiculous walking through it dressed the way I was. It was Halloween and, much like every other female student at my college, I'd chosen to dress in a costume that was less about creativity or frightening people than it was about showing off my body to male admirers.
I was dressed as Little Red Riding Hood but certainly not the one from the kiddie books. Underneath my short red cloak my tight red dress hugged my every curve, was open enough at the front to show a great deal of cleavage and stopped only an inch or two past my well rounded ass. The perfect little mix of innocent and downright slutty. As I'd walked through campus and onto the bus I'd received many admiring stares and a whistle or two. That had grown even more pronounced as I'd arrived at the bad neighbourhood. Guys were walking past me and openly staring at my tits or turning to watch as I walked past. A pick-up basketball game on a poorly lit court came to a dead stop as I walked past and I could feel every single eye glued onto me as I sauntered past.
I suppose I couldn't blame them. I know how black guys love curvy white women and, well, that's what I am. With long sandy-blonde hair wrapped tightly in two little pigtails, bright green eyes and a body that measures at 32F-24-36, I'm sure I would have made every single one of them hard even if I'd been wearing the drabbest possible clothes imaginable. As it was, with my every curve being tightly clung to and exposed and my ass being well presented by a deadly pair of three inch red heels I'm sure I must have looked like the epitome of their cute little white girl suburban fantasy.
I laughed at that thought at first. If only they knew how I'd been raised. My parents had raised me in a safe, gated community in the most lily white of suburbs. They'd sent me to an all-girls high school that only had one black student on scholarship and a few Asian girls for anything resembling colour in the student body. My parents weren't racist like the KKK or anything, but I'd frequently hear my father complain about how most black people were lazy and how he didn't want his tax dollars to go to their welfare checks and my mother would often "tut, tut" during the evening news. Whenever some crime story involving anyone black she'd always say how "those people" deserved what they got for not working hard enough.
So I'd certainly been raised to keep my distance and, walking down the dark street at night, keep my distance I did. I didn't want any of them coming on to me for very good reason. So not only did I keep my distance but I picked up speed, eager to arrive at my destination. In fact, I was so focused on walking faster through the neighbourhood that I began to lose my bearing. I had looked up where I was going on the internet before I left the dorm and it had said it was a straight line south from the bus stop along Lincoln Heights Boulevard.
But as I reached the end of the block I looked up and saw that the street sign said I was walking down something called East Wickford Street. I knew that was wrong. I was lost.
I paused. Not knowing what to do. I considered calling a taxi but I remembered hearing from certain students that cab companies often wouldn't send cars out to this neighbourhood out of fear that they might get robbed. I considered backtracking the way that I had come but I knew that meant walking back past the basketball game and I knew for a fact that meant that one of the black guys there would say something to me. Faced with two options that I didn't like, I decided on a third. I pressed onward. I figured that at the very least I would either find my way back to Lincoln Heights or I would find a better neighbourhood from which I could call a cab.
I kept up my speed, walking faster and faster, keeping my eyes down at my feet so as to avoid any potential eye contact. I felt like I was making good progress, I could see a major intersection ahead that looked at least like it might have a convenience store open so that I could ask for directions and I was just about to walk even faster when I heard yet another voice from one of the darkened porches.
"Hey girl, wait up."
I froze. There was something about the voice that just stopped me in my tracks. Low and dark, a thick bass, my legs just froze at the sound.
I turned around to look at who it was who was talking to me. It, to no surprise, was another black man. But this one was, I could tell at just a glance, different. He was massive first of all, with jet black skin and a shaved head. A lot of the men I'd seen had been big but this one was a giant. I'm not tiny, I'm around five four or so, but he looked to be at least a foot taller than I was. He was thick too, his arms, shoulders and chest clearly well-defined and not hidden by the tight white tank top he had on. He was wearing baggy black shorts and sunglasses to complete his low-rent ensemble. His shaved head which made it tough to pinpoint his age but he looked to my eyes to be around twenty-six or seven to my having just turned twenty. He looked like my parent's worst nightmare only twice the size.
He also had a big and mean looking dog to his side, a rottweiler mix of some sort, that he was holding on a tight leash. The dog clearly wanted off, however, and the huge man was clearly straining to hold him at bay. I looked at his arm for a second, half interested in the amazing muscle definition he had on display and half at the tattoo that decorated it.
I was so entranced, however, that I barely even noticed as the man tied his dog to the porch and approached me.
"Looking for your Grandma's house?" he said with a smile as he walked towards me.
"No," I barely managed to mumble out, ignoring the joke. I was practically shivering. I'd like to think more from the cool October air than from the thing I felt deep in my stomach, "I'm on my way to a party."
"Mmm, if it's got girls like you it sounds like the party I'd like to go to." he said. It was clear to tell, even with his glasses on, that he was looking up and down my body, "You need a date for the party?"
"No," I said, trying to maintain my composure.
"That's not very nice," he said, although his voice remained at an even keel. He was directly in front of me now, I had to crane my neck just to look into his face, "Where's this party at?"
"1074 Lincoln Heights Boulevard," I said, reciting the now memorized
"Shit, girl," he said with a chuckle, "That's on the other side of the freeway, got a mile to go before you get there."
"Oh." I said, feeling my nerves grow.
"And shit ain't safe around here. Not with the kind of thugs we got out here and definitely not like you dressed the way you are." he said again, "Girl dressed the way you are makes a man think all kinds of things."
I paused, feeling my mouth dry. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he was getting at. He was all smiles as he said it but it was with an unmissable air of menace. Again, I could hear my parent's sensible voices telling me to run but in the heels I was wearing and as big as he looked even if I could run I knew he'd just catch me.
"But don't worry," he said, "See, this here is my neighbourhood. And I kind of make a side business in protecting shit in my neighbourhood. Local people pay me a little something and I make sure ain't nobody bothers them."
I froze. Money. He was asking for money. It almost came as a relief.
"I have money," I said, reaching into my purse
"I'm sure you do," he said, "But I was thinking that you might have a little bit more to offer me than a couple dollars."
I paused. I knew what he was after.
"I have a boyfriend." I said, weakly
"No doubt, no doubt," he said, nodding his head and rubbing his hands together, "And that's why it's so important that we work something out. Need to get you back home to your boyfriend, all safe and sound."
I could feel the panic in my eyes as I considered my situation. There was no way to call the police. He was too close. I could feel the adrenaline bursting through my body though. My heart was beating wildly and I could feel my hands turn clammy. In my situation, I knew that there was nothing I could do if he wanted to just take it from me.
"W-what do you have in mind?" I asked
"Well," he said, "Seems to me, this being Halloween and everything, and you all dressed up like that, you should maybe come knock on my door, ask for trick or treat."
I froze. It was a bad idea. I knew that at least on the street I had some chance of someone walking by and seeing us.
"Trust me," he said, towering over me. "It's not safe out here for you if you don't."
I knew he'd phrased his words so as not to be a direct threat but I knew exactly what he meant. I couldn't help but think of my parents. Everything they'd said to me growing up. Then I thought of my boyfriend. More than anything, though, I knew they'd never want me to be hurt and, as crazy as it all was, my best chance of not being hurt still seemed to be doing what the black giant said.
Despite my brain screaming at me to get out, I did as he'd said, walking into his yard beside him and onto his porch. His tied up dog began barking loudly as I walked past, straining against the leash in a seeming attempt to get at me.
"Killer, down," the big man yelled at his dog and the dog, it seemed, was no more resistant to doing as told by him as I was, whining at his master's words and curling up on the porch. I stood nervously on the porch as the man bent down to enter his front door, which he then closed behind him. Again the possibility of running entered my brain but I could see that he was still just inside his front door. If I bolted he'd have no problem catching up to me. As directed, I knocked three times on his door and stood nervously on his porch. It was only a second after my knocks that he opened the door.
"Well hello there," he said as he opened the door, looking me up and down again as if seeing me for the first time.
"T-t-trick or treat," I said, not particularly enthusiastically. He smiled at this.
"Well, well, well," he said, "Looks like you in need of a big, bad wolf."
I smiled weakly, trying to pull my hemline down a bit.
"Well, a costume like that definitely deserves a treat," he said, "Come on in, I'll find you something."
Nervously, against my instincts, I walked in. The house itself, unlike its shabby exterior, was reasonably well decorated and maintained. Not, I supposed, all that much of a surprise if he was some sort of gangster. It was a narrow hallway we were in, though, and just how big he was could not have been more apparent. I was backed up against the wall and it seemed as though he was filling up the rest of the whole house as he looked down on me.
"See," he said, "Thing is that I don't have much in the way of candy in the house,"
"T-that's OK," I stuttered, "I can just be on my way,"
"Naw, naw," he said, "Like I said, costume that fine deserves a real treat and I think I've got one that'll really satisfy you."
He nodded downward and my eyes followed suit. It was readily apparent what I was meant to be looking at. The baggy material of his shorts was now struggling to contain what was obviously a massive erection running down the left side of his shorts. I'd heard that rumour about black men too and clearly the giant in front of me fit that bill.
"I can't," I said, my mouth open in shock,
"Trust me, you'll like it, a big slab of dark chocolate with a delicious white filling," he said, "Go on, just give it a taste."
"My boyfriend..." I said, trying not to think about him, especially not now. My breathing was getting heavy again but for, I'm ashamed to admit, an entirely different reason.
"Your boyfriend ain't here," he said, "And I'm damn sure he'd want you to do what's best for you."
"My parents would kill me," I said, "I just can't."
Like a shot I felt his hand reach out and shove me hard against the wall, eventually wrapping around my neck and holding me in place as I struggled.
"Listen bitch," he said, his teeth now in a gritted whisper, "You either suck my dick or you go out there where, if I haven't made myself clear, it isn't safe for your little white ass. So I think you better ask yourself what mommy and daddy would prefer. You do this here for me or you go out there and take your chances."
I tried struggling free again but his grip tightened ever so on my neck that I could tell that I couldn't break free. I had to admit, his arguments were getting more and more convincing. It was becoming crystal clear to me that I had very little choice in the matter. His free hand removed his glasses and his eyes, large and a rich brown, were now staring into mine. There was a steel to his glare, a hard look that told me that he meant every word he said. Weakly, I nodded at him.
"OK," I said, "I'll do it."
His glare softened at this and a smile again spread on his face. I gasped a large breath of air as he released my neck and stepped back. Catching my breath, I looked back down at his shorts. His dick was as hard as ever and looked to be straining against his shorts to the bursting point. The outline was just enormous. It looked like half of a baseball bat inside his pants. I couldn't deny feeling just a bit of a thrill as I imagined what it would look like outside of his shorts.
"Time's wasting," he said impatiently. I nodded. Almost as if in a trance I knelt down in front of him. He was so tall that, on my knees, looking up at him was a near impossibility. That was good, I thought. It was too hard to look at him and not think about my boyfriend. What he would think about what was going on. What he'd say. I knew that the best decision was to just do what the big man wanted and forget about everything else.
I cleared my mind of those thoughts and reached up for the waistband of his shorts. They were loose enough to pull down relatively easily. His shorts off, I could see his cock clearer now, straining against a pair of tight boxer briefs. It was so big up close. I reached out and tried grabbing it through the thin material. Length was one thing but it was thick. Almost as thick as my wrist and hard as hot, warm steel. I gasped and began rubbing it gently through his shorts. He groaned at my touch. I considered the possibility that this might be enough for him. That i might be able to get through this just by stroking his massive erection without touching it.
"Yeah, come on," he said, "Get that dick out girl, taste it, just give it a kiss."
I nodded. I felt like I was in a trance. I tugged down on his shorts, revealing inch after inch of his cock before I finally pulled him out completely. His cock sprung out in front of him like a coiled cobra. I had to gasp. I was more than a foot away from him when I'd begun tugging his shorts down and now, with his hard cock pointed directly at me, it was close enough for me to reach out and lick with my tongue.
Up close his cock was magnificent and I grasped it in my hands, my freshly manicured fingers with the bright red polish not quite reaching around to my thumb. I couldn't help but gasp at the contrast between it, dark black like the rest of him but slightly lighter at it's thick head, and my pale white hand struggling to wrap itself around it. It was easily foot long and so thick and heavy, sagging slightly at it's weight despite being so hard. It was thickest in the middle, with prominent veins, and hot to the touch. It throbbed in my hands, jerking slightly.
"You're enormous," I said in awe. He was easily twice the size of any of the guys I'd been with in the past.
"Mmmm, very true, Red" he said, "And this big black dick is all the better to fuck you with,"
I leaned forward and licked at it, feeling it jerk in my hands as my warm wet tongue made contact with the big cock head. It was so big, so fat, I knew I'd have to use a lot of spit if I wanted to get it inside my mouth and, much to my chagrin, I was coming to the distinct realization that I wanted that very much. I tasted the pearly drops of pre-cum leaking out of his cock head and moaned at the salty taste of them.
"Fuck yeah," he groaned again as my tongue swirled around his dick. I began licking it in earnest, letting my tongue run the length of his shaft, first one side, then the other, leaving a trail of my spit along it as I went.
"Don't forget the balls," he said. I nodded.
"I don't even know your name," I giggled, realizing the absurdity of what I was saying as my tongue began to envelop the large, cum bloated sac of his balls.
"People call me, fuck," he grunted, "Just call me Big T,"
I moaned my acknowledgement as I let one of his balls fill my mouth and then the other, giving them a tender caring going over with my tongue. I pulled my mouth off of them, kissing back up the shaft of his cock.
"I'm Ashley," I moaned as I stretched my mouth wide around his dick, straining to fit that big head inside.
"Fuck Ashley," he said, "You sure know how to suck a dick,"
I didn't respond. How could I? I began pressing down on his cock, inch after inch of the massive black tool entering my mouth, stretching me wide, gagging me as it entered my throat. I suppressed the urge and kept pushing, swallowing almost eight inches of it before I felt myself fill up I began pulling my mouth up off it, bobbing up on it now as I sucked hard on the cock that was in my mouth.
"That it?" he said, "I think you can take more."
I pushed down again, this time swallowing nearly ten inches of it. This time, though, I felt his hand on the back of my head, gripping what he could of my tightly braided blonde hair and keeping me in place. I gasped and sputtered around his dick and felt like I was going to black out but eventually his grip released. Still, as I opened my eyes and pulled back I could see that there were unmistakable traces of my lipstick against his muscular pubic bone.
"Yeah, you like that bitch?" he said, "You like choking on a big black cock"
I groaned. I couldn't help but feel a sense of perverse pride at the knowledge that I'd taken the whole thing into my mouth. I began sucking and bobbing my head furiously, as if possessed by some crazed, cock starved monster. I let my mouth bob up and down only the first half now, my free right hand jacking on the shaft that I couldn't give adequate attention to. I could feel my eyes watering and my make-up running but I was lost in the blow job. Something primal had awoken in me. I wanted nothing more than to suck Big T's amazing cock better than anyone ever had before.