Tale of Brooke Ch. 01bybi_blk_slut©
There she is—Brooke. You've heard the rumors of this 19 year old, caramel skinned, freak and are waiting your chance to find out if they are true. You stalk her around the pool party, being thrown by her ever successful and wealthy step-father. Rumor has it she is a great part of his success, whether he knows it or not is still controversial—you think he knows. Who couldn't realize all the attention she gets form men and women in those barely-there outfits. And today is no different.
With all the major clients, and potential clients, of her step-father and their families—wives and children, she still manages to be barely appropriate. The other women are dressed conservatively in one-piece swimsuits with sarongs to cover them down to their knees, with children they either watch or hold. Not Brooke. She is casually seducing men and their wives in her swimsuit—a black little number, emphasis on little, which exposes all of her back. It is a halter, with the top being connected to the bottom by narrow black straps. Her DD breasts are alluring and call out to you and every other man within 50 feet, as they are barely covered by the strips of fabric, which widen ever so slightly around her breasts. There are silver belt buckles one either sides of her belly button that keep the bathing suit taught in place. She is wearing a sarong that barely passes her ass. You can't tell but you would kill to know if the body of her sexy one-piece is a thong or bikini cut.
Brooke walks to the pool and is cut off by an older gentleman, a Mr. Forsyth. You feel your jealous rage flare a bit, overshadowing your growing hard-on. Mr. Forsyth's wife, Joyce, is not too far behind—she's been watching him from across the lawn and all but ran to intercept as she saw him make his way toward Brooke. You watch from across the pool, reading their lips as you try to casually make your way over to her.
"Hello Mr. Forsyth," she says calmly and coolly. Giving him that smile you'd die for-- the one that seems to beg for him, any man, to stuff her ass, mouth and pussy with their cock.
"Brooke," he says, failing to casually assess her body. "You've grown up into a lovely young woman."
You hate the way he emphasized "young". Mr. Forsyth is at least in his mid-fifties. You look away form a moment, ears still wide open, to collect your fleeting emotions.
"Thank you, Mr. Forsyth."
"Brooke," says Joyce with distain as she arrives on the scene.
"Mrs. Forsyth," Brooke doesn't miss a beat. "So nice to see you."
Mrs. Forsyth looks Brooke over. A devilish smirk on her face—she is livid. "Where do you find these outfits of yours Brooke?" her tone is curt.
"I don't. Daddy buys them for me," Brooke says of her step father.
"Huh," Mrs. Forsyth says with disapproval. "So this is Greg's taste?"
"Brooke," Mr. Forsyth quickly interrupts.
There is a loud clatter across the yard towards the house, near the entrance to the kitchen. Brook quickly excuses herself and heads towards the clatter. Her ass bounces perfectly as she swishes her nice round, soft, slap-able ass away.
It's a thong, you scream internally and given Mr. Forsyth's downward gaze and low grunt, he notices as well.
Mrs. Forsyth rolls her eyes and scoffs with disapproval at her husband. You rush past them to see if Brooke needs any help inside, after all, it is your job to keep the party flowing fluidly.
You keep your eye on her from a distance as she helps Ricardo who knocked a tray of glasses over. They were plastic but you'd think they were glass the way he was panicked—but not panicked enough not to pause and admired Brooke's beautiful tits as she bent down to help him pick them up. He looks at you. You're hoping the same thing—praying the fabric on the thousand dollar swimsuit wasn't as durable as it seemed to be.
You get called away back to the pool; someone's child is potentially drowning. Don't these people know you were busy?!
"Rescuing" the child takes more time than you thought it would. You were hoping he was playing but sadly, Frank Cartwright, Jr. is a horrible swimmer and a clumsy 9 year old. You have to not only save him from the pool but fixed the assault of wounds he occurred trying to show off to Little Miss Julie Fairchild, who was more fascinated by Frank Jr.'s bleeding scrapes than his failed attempt to dive into the low side of the pool. You and a couple of the many doctors at the party, stitch the little boy back together and then you're on your way.
Brooke, you think quickly. You look around at the glass clock above the patio. It's been about ten minutes. You look around for her. She's nowhere. You leave the pool area, getting only a few words of thanks for your heroic duty. You excuse yourself into the house where you run into the Lady of the House, Brooke's mother. Her strict presence has always made you shy and bashful.
"Go clean yourself off upstairs."
You can't tell if it's a request or a command.
"You have blood all over you."
Was that compassion in her voice? You don't have time to muddle it over. You tell her a quick "yes, ma'am" and then head upstairs.
The southern stairs at the back of the house let off to a platform with a large window. You hear some murmurs coming from your Boss' study. You're perplexed. You return your focus outside after the murmurs distract it, only to find Mr. Rich and Mighty laughing with Mr. Benson and Mr. Vanderbilt outside by the garage. You head slowly to the door, barely recognizing one of the voices—the softer one. You should be headed to the "small" half bath on the eastern side of the southern wing, but you feel compelled, pulled, and frankly downright nosy, so you head to the western side instead.
You turn the corner and pass the southern guestroom and a linen closet. You look over the banister right before it is cut off by the wall that defines the den, hoping no one has seen you. You stay against the wall like a spy as you reach the study door at the farther end of the den on left wall. The door is slightly cracked.
"Get down there," you hear Mr. Forsythe say.
There's Brooke. A smile on her face as she kneels in front of her boss' business partner and friend. She unbuttons his pants, you hear the zipper. He leans back, his hands on the desk and then you hear it. The sweet sound of his cock going in her mouth. She moans over it.
"Lick it," he instructs. "Suck it. Suck."
He grabs her head and forces his cock down. There's slight gagging and then she slurps him deep. Working his cock. You can barely see her head bobbing over his cock. Her lips wrapped around his stiff dick. You imagine her mouth around your cock. Punishing her mouth. Plummeting her head upon it.
"Fuck!" he screams.
She moans and groans over his cock. You see his thick white cock in her mouth.
"Suck me you nasty bitch."
He pulls her tits from her swimming suit top and rubs them. He plays with them. Pinching and squeezing the nipples. Palming them. Groping at them.
She's on her knees taking that thick cock in her mouth as he leans on her father's leather-topped desk. Allowing him to do what he wants with those juggs.
He yanks her up by her hair and throws her on top of the desk. Papers wrinkle beneath her firm, round ass. He pulss at her tits and then sucks them deep into his mouth. Slurpping and sucking them. Her head falls back. She pulls his head into her cleavage. He pinches her other nipple as he bites on the one in his mouth. She feeds him her tits.
You wanna suck them. You wanna slap those big black melons. Shove your cock between them and fuck them.
He grabs her by the hair and forces him to look at her. He pushes her thong swim suit bottom to the side and shoves his cock in her pussy. Deep. She moans and groans, releasing a small scream.
Your cock is hard. You start to rub it through your uniform.
He stares her in the eye as he shoves his white cock in and out of her pussy. Fucking her like a common whore. Slamming into her. She grips the corners of the desk. Her legs spread wide. He bites down on her tit again and moans into them. She moans and groans. Panting and trying not to scream. He looks up at her, her tit in his mouth. He sucks it hard and she gasps.
You imagine you are pounding her. Your tongue rolling around her nipple as you pierce her tight, wet, sweet pussy. Her pussy gripping your cock, milking it like it's milking his. Begging for that sweet cum as she moans in your ears, whispering nasty thoughts. She wants you to fuck her. She's begging for it.
"Fuck me. Fuck my pussy. Give it to me hard and deep."
She wraps her legs around his waist—your waist—pulling him deeper.
"Yes," he groans, grabbing her waist and giving it to her.
He quickly pulls his cock out of her pussy. It's gleaming with her juices. She quickly drops to the floor. Slurping his cock. Tasting his precum and her pussy mixed into one all over his dick. She plays with her pussy, rubbing it furiously. You see it dripping. You just wanna taste it. He pounds her head into the desk. His hands gripping the desk as he fucks her beautiful face with his thick white cock. Pumping the whore's big black cock sucking lips.
"Suck your pussy off my cock," you think, imagining her mouth taking your cock. "Suck it bitch. Yes. Mmmm. Fucking whore, swallow my dick. Nasty bitch. Suck my precum. Swallow it you freak. Yes!"
He pulls his cock from her mouth and picks her up. He moves to the back of the desk and bends her over it. He rams his cock in her pussy and pounds her.
"Unh, unh, yes," she groans. "Give it to me."
"Shut up bitch," he commands.
He shoves his cock deep in her. "Spread your ass."
She reaches back and pulls her ass cheeks apart.
He pulls out of her pussy and pushes it against her ass.
"Shut up," he says as he grabs her by the hair and pushes his cock in her ass. "Hold it open. Keep it open," he demands as he fucks her up the ass.
His cock buried deep in her ass. He pushes her head against the desk. Her head is turned towards the door. She sees you watching through the crack in the door.
"Fuck me," she says.
Fuck, she's talking to me, you think. She looks you right in the eye as Mr. Forsythe's cock is forced up her tight black ass. Your cock is out. You've been stroking it silently as you've watched her take his cock in her mouth and pussy.
"Do it," she says. "Fuck me. Fuck my ass." She's staring directly at you with lust in her eyes.
"Take it," he says.
You nod. "Take it," you mouth in agreement.
She licks her lips and whimpers. "Yes. Up my big black ass. Fuck it."
"Take my cock on your father's desk you nasty bitch."
"Right on his desk."
"Fuck me all over this desk. Right up my pussy and ass."
"I'm gonna come in your mouth."
"Cum all over my throat and tits."
"Give me that white cock in my ass."
"Take my cock!"
"Give it to me. Fuck my pussy."
"Keep that shit spread. Keep it spread wide."
She pulls it apart wider.
"That's it. I know you want it. I know you like it."
"Yeah, I like your cock in my pussy and my ass."
"I know you do bitch."
"Fuck me," she whines. "Uhhh ooooh. Fuck me." She pants and groans. Moaning as cock is rammed in her holes. "I want your cock in my mouth."
You can't control yourself. You wanna fuck her mouth. You wanna just shove your cock in her mouth while he has it in her ass. Just double fuck the bitch like she wants a reverse Oreo with the black whore in the middle of two big white cocks. Slurping white meat and taking it like a whore from her ass to her pussy and back again.
"I wanna take that cum in my mouth."
He pounds and grinds in her ass.
"Fuck me," he commands, pulling her up by her hair.
Her eyes stay locked on you as her back is forced to arch. She grips the front of the desk and slams her ass back on his cock—your cock.
"You like that?" she teases. "You like that big black booty on your cock?"
"Take that pussy. Take that dripping wet black pussy. Fuck me."
"Give it to me."
"Ooooh fuck. Your cock feels so good up my ass... Do it. Do it. Give it to me. Fuck me. Tear that fucking ass up all over this desk. Tear up that big black ass."
"That's right bitch. Take Daddy's dick up your ass."
"You better not tell anybody about this. How I got you over your father's desk like a whore. Taking my cock in all your fucking holes."
He grabs her tits, letting her hair go as he pounds her again. Her back still arched. Focus still on you.
"Who's your fucking daddy now bitch?"
"You Daddy. Fuck me Daddy!"
"Oh yes, right there. Right in my pussy. Fuck."
"Oooh you fucking slut."
"Yes. Give it to me. Fuck I'm gonna cum!"
"Yes. Cum on my dick. Come on that white prick."
"Cream. Cream and cum all over my cock. Drench this white meat."
"Daddy, I'm gonna cum all over your cock."
"Do it baby. Give Daddy his cum you nasty girl. Give it to me naughty girl."
"Cum baby. Cum for Daddy!"
She fucks him fast as he pounds her deep and hard. She explodes all over his cock. She shakes and shivers as it rips through her.
"YES! DADDY! FUCK I'M CUMMING!"
"Cum for me baby."
"Fuck!" he pulls out and she quickly turns around. He plops in her father's chair. You can visualize being where he is in that chair.
"Come get this cum."
She rushes over and takes the cock in her mouth. She gets on her knees and wraps her tits around your cock. She sucks the head in her mouth and massages her balls with her tits. Rubbing them. Juggling them with her big, round black knockers.
"That's it baby. Daddy's gonna blast down your throat."
She looks up at you. Her ass shakes as she face fucks your cock with her whole body. Her tits wrapped under your heavy, cum filled white balls. Her ass bouncing, clapping and shaking like ghetto whore's asses do. Her lips wrapped around the shaft, deep in her throat.
"Deep throat it. FUCK!" He shoves her head on his cock and explodes in her mouth.
Cum spilling over onto her tits. She swallows his cum—your cum. She takes it all in her mouth swallowing all of it until he pushes her off of his cock. She falls back on her plump ass and pulls her tits to her mouth, licking up the cum. Savoring it.
He stands and fixes himself.
You get yourself together.
You peek in.
She stands up and pulls her swimsuit in place back over her pussy and tits. She shakes her head and runs her hands through her hair.
Mr. Forsythe heads towards the door. You jog back a few steps and then pretend to be heading in the direction. He passes you without looking twice. Asshole, you think. You pause for a moment and then Brooke comes out of the office. She rounds the corner and looks at you with a devilish smile.
"Hi," she says coyly.
"Hello Miss Brooke."
"Brooke! I've been looking all over for you."
Her mother's best friend comes over and gives her a hug. "Your mother told me you were here. You must keep me company. I hate these dreadful things."
"Of course, Aunt Sheila."
You hear someone call your name.
"Excuse me," you say politely and then turn around.
"Later," Brooke says with devilish intentions in that one word.
You get a vision of her on her back, legs spread looking at you, groaning your name. Damn.