tagInterracial LoveWhy Girls Like Horses Ch. 08

Why Girls Like Horses Ch. 08

bykotochaos©

Chapter Eight: Race Relations

Dorothy Ramon wasn't born racist. She wasn't raised to think of blacks and inferior, and despite this black boys made her very uncomfortable. They were loud and strong, and they were all so tall. After her meager five foot, any tall person made her uncomfortable.

Racism just made sense to her. All she ever saw on television was black people committed crime. Even black stand-up comedians seemed to have a negative view of blacks, saying how loud they are and how they don't back down. To a small white girl like her it was terrifying.

So when she saw only one seat open for the bus home, she was nervous that it was with a black boy. He wasn't scary or even unattractive. He was rather tall, and his hair was shaved. From what she could tell he was very muscular. His arms seemed to bulge out underneath his shirt. He dressed like all black boys did: thugs, but he seemed friendly when he smiled. Regardless, she was still uncomfortable, but she figured it would be okay to just sit with a black boy. She didn't have to talk to him.

She sat down next to him and kept staring straight ahead. She didn't want to be rude, but she didn't know what to say to a black boy. She knew nothing of the street or the ghetto, where she was sure he came from. All she knew was that blacks were good at basket ball, and that she found rap extremely difficult to understand.

She didn't have to speak though. The black boy initiated conversation with her. "Hey, I'm Damon," he said in a cool voice, and he held out his huge, black hand.

"I'm Dorothy," she said uncomfortably. She did her best to be amiable toward him, and it turned out well. Dorothy was naturally sociable and could make friends with anyone, even the black kid. Still, it made her feel strange when his dark hand eclipsed her small, white one.

"It's nice to meet you, Dorothy. I've never really seen you on the bus before. Are you new here?"

"No, I've lived here my whole life."

"Really? I can't believe it." Damon examined her for a while, looking over her body. "Wait a minute; I think I might've seen you. Have you been hanging around some White kid at school?"

"Yes," Dorothy said. "Simon, he's my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend," Damon echoed. "That little guy?" He looked over her body and nodded in approval. "I guess you're both pretty tiny, so it makes sense," he said playfully, even as he continued to stare at her figure.

Build-wise, Dorothy wasn't rail thin, but she wasn't fat. She spent a lot of time playing basket ball at the gym, which gave her an athletic frame, and what fat she did have made the curves of her body look more dramatic due to her height. Her hips were slender, but her Italian heritage gave her large, ponderous C-cup breasts that bulged on her frame. She also had large brown eyes, a sophisticated smile, and thick, dark hair that fell to her hips in rich waves.

She knew what he was staring at. Boys always ogled her breasts, and Damon seemed no different. Rather than say anything she crossed her eyes and tried to ignore his gaze. It didn't work.

Again, it should be noted that Dorothy in no way thought of herself as racist, yet the idea of a black boy staring at her breasts appalled her. To her that wasn't racism though. She just thought that races shouldn't mix. The black boy was the farthest thing from a white boy, and Simon, that Dorothy could think of.

After what seemed like an eternity of staring the black boy grinned and released a powerful breath from his nostrils. It was a laugh, and it was a laugh that made Dorothy extremely uncomfortable. The bus jerked as it finally took off. All of the students were on the bus and they were situated, falling into a pattern of gossiping and chortling. Dorothy did neither with the black boy.

"So, I got a question for you, Snowflake," Damon said with his catastrophically dashing grin.

"Yes," Dorothy said primly, very uncomfortable with the way he stared. As nice as Damon was, she couldn't abide such lustful gazes from a black boy.

"How big is Simon's penis exactly," Damon asked. His grin twisted into an arrogant sneer that reminded Dorothy of the rappers on television that her father hated. For some reason, this sent a flutter through Dorothy's chest.

"I...Well...I...How in the world should..." Dorothy didn't know how she should respond to such an unwarranted question. Not only had she never had sex, she had no interest to. Sex was meant for marriage, and though she didn't go so far as to think of sex only for procreation, she had no awareness of her own sex drive. So, she had no way of knowing if Simon was well hung or not, not that it mattered to her. Dorothy liked Simon for his personality.

Rather than acknowledge him, she stared straight forward and tried to ignore him. That didn't satisfy Damon, who was determined to get under her skin. "I bet he isn't very big. Whites are supposed to be...Well, how should I put this?" Damon looked directly at her. "They're ill-equipped."

Dorothy stared straight ahead.

"I'm right, aren't I? Know how I can tell that your boyfriend's packing a baby carrot? You don't look very happy. You never do. You just look like a prissy, unsatisfied Snowflake."

Despite all of her effort, Dorothy released a sigh and rolled her eyes. This was rewarding for Damon, who forged ahead. "Yeah, little boys like him; they don't have what it takes to please a white girl. Your kind needs a big dick to give you any pleasure. That's why all you white girls date black guys."

Dorothy frowned but didn't respond otherwise. She didn't want to give Damon the pleasure of knowing that he really upset her, and it seemed to work. After that Damon finally took the hint and quitted up. For the rest of the right Dorothy thought about what he said furiously, but she didn't speak out against him.

By the time she got home she had changed her mind. She had wished that she had said something, anything to defend Simon. Whether well hung or not, he was her boyfriend, and Damon didn't have any right to speak about him in such away, let alone to her in such a way.

As she showered that night she continued to think about what Damon said, and she had a strange experience. While thinking about Damon she had a strange tickle in her crotch, and when she put the shower head down there it made the tickle more intense. Her body seized, holding the shower head to her vagina until she felt a strange, euphoric sensation flood her senses.

Dorothy heaved loudly, gasping and panting as pleasure raced through her system, bringing her whole body alive. She had her very first orgasm that night, and she liked it quite a bit. So much so that she repeated the pleasure in bed later that night with her fingers.

While she rammed her fingers into her small body, she wondered how big Simon's penis was. Rumors couldn't be true, the stereotypes were lies, she kept telling herself that, and she desperately hoped that they were true, because her tiny fingers just weren't enough.

The next morning Dorothy was one of the first to get on the bus. Since she was one of the first to get on the bus, she was one of the last to get off of it. Normally she took that time to either prepare for the day or cool down from it, but Damon changed everything. He got off the bus only two stops before her, and that meant that he rode quite a while as well.

She rode quietly, struggling internally with a foreign concept: sex. She wondered what Simon's penis was like, as she was suddenly extremely curious to find out. One time she had sat on his lap, but she didn't feel anything. It made her worry that maybe he wasn't very large after all.

"It...It doesn't matter, though. It's not the size of the cock, but the size of their heart that is important." She cracked a grin. "Wow, that was really lame."

Damon got onto the bus without Dorothy even noticing. He approached silently, and she didn't even see him until he was right there. At first she recoiled, and then she scowled and turned her gaze out the window.

"Hey there, Snowflake. Hope you don't mind sitting me taking this seat, figured we were real close buds after yesterday." He smiled knowingly. "Did you think about our conversation last night?"

"Conversation? I don't know what in the hell you are talking about."

"You know, the conversation about seeing my cock."

Dorothy turned on him in shock. "What? I don't remember you saying anything about that!"

"Oh, I did. Remember, when I was saying that white girls, like you, need a big black cock, like mine, to please them."

"W-What..." She stammered angrily, her face red by this point. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Damon laughed. "Oh, I see, you don't believe me about the size thing, do you? Alright, then, I'll show you." He laughed again, shaking his head this time. "White women, they're all the same."

Dorothy didn't have the strength to stop him. Fascinated and horrified, she watched him unzip his jeans and pull something out with difficulty. It looked like a large, dark fruit. It was at least six inches long and as thick as a couple of her fingers put together. When released, it fell to his jeans, completely limp like a noodle. It was dark, too, much darker than Damon's medium-brown skin. She stared at it intently, shocked by the sight.

Damon grinned. "You want to touch it, Snowflake?" He wiggled it at her, and it suddenly began to change form. His penis grew much thicker in a short amount of time. Veins popped out on it, fuelling it with necessary blood.

Dorothy couldn't take her eyes off of his genitals. He grew immensely, nearly doubling in size and thickening considerably. When it fully erect, it was thicker than her wrist, which was not a very good comparison. Dorothy had very slender wrists. Still, she was amazed by his size. Though having never seen Simon's penis, she knew that Damon's was larger.

"You know, Snowflake, you seem to like it."

"Put that away," she said in a huff. Even though she was angry, she secretly wanted him to disobey her, and when he did she felt a mixture of dismay and arousal. She knew it was wrong, but she wanted to examine his big, black penis. For some reason it interested her deeply, and she was glad to see that he didn't obey her command, though she chided herself internally for being so interested in him, but it felt like she was powerless.

That powerlessness aroused Dorothy as much as it frightened her. Something about Damon was disarming. He broke down the barriers of their race and made her want him. Undeniably male, in his presence Dorothy felt feminine and dainty, which wasn't entirely difficult considering her diminutive stature, but it was still strangely invigorating.

Through Damon she found a sort of primal pleasure. Dorothy was a bit of a tomboy, enjoying sports, enjoying video games, and she never really wanted to be a prissy girl anyway. Before Damon she was reminded that she was a female though. Regardless of whether she liked clothes and shopping, or gossip and giggles, she was a woman. She was reminded of her femininity because Damon was so undeniably male, and that level of male made a stark contrast between her, a woman who enjoyed sports, and a true male like him.

Damon put his cock away with difficulty, and then grinned arrogantly at her. Dorothy turned her attention to the window. Her face was bright red and her whole body felt strangely warm.

After a good forty-five minutes of silence the bus stopped and started letting students off. Damon pulled his backpack on and stood. "I guess I'll see you later today, Snowflake."

Dorothy couldn't explain why, but she was looking forward to it.

At school Dorothy ran into Simon. The sight of him was strange. He was scrawny compared to Damon, and he looked so pale. When he came to hug her, she pulled away. For some reason she was hesitant to be touched by him. It didn't feel right, not after her time with Damon.

Without thinking she glanced at his crotch. Damon was so large down there. There was no way that Simon could compare. She wondered if what Damon said was true. The idea that black boys were larger than white boys was suddenly becoming very reasonable to her.

"Dorothy, is something wrong?"

Dorothy jerked back into awareness. She blushed, but she felt certain that Simon had no idea where her brain was. "No, nothings wrong," she assured him as she put her things in her locker and prepared for her first hour. Closing her locker, she leaned in and kissed him. For the first time since they had begun dating the kiss meant nothing to her. "I've got to get to class, babe."

"Okay, I'll see you tonight," he said, and he gave her another meaningless kiss.

Dorothy walked to class, clutching her book to her breasts. She thought about Simon and felt nothing but guilt. Then she thought about Damon, and a strange thrill traveled through her body. It tingled and crawled its way down her spine, to her crotch. She felt warm there, and she felt very uncomfortable.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she nearly wandered into a wall. At the last minute she was woke from her reverie by the school bell, and she rushed to class only to be counted tardy.

For the whole day Dorothy was plagued with thoughts of Damon and his penis. Though she had no means of comparison, it did seem rather large to her, and the confidence he had in pulling it out both embarrassed and aroused her. He was so audacious and brave that it made her tingle in strange ways. It didn't help that he had such a broad chest and handsome smile either.

Aside from mild attraction to him, Dorothy thought he was a complete pig. Of course, there was a thrill to him being courageous enough to pull his penis out in public. It was surprising to her how unashamed he was, and it was somewhat flattering that he would do all of that just to impress her. She also thought that his penis seemed nice looking, not that she had much to compare, and she understood why he would be so confident in it, but none of that changed the fact that it was an incredible rude behavior on his part.

Despite that, she couldn't get him out of her head. She tried to convince herself that she was angry with him, but she couldn't completely deny the truth. On some primal level, she found his attention flattering, and she even found herself desiring of such boorish behavior, not that she had any intention of rewarding it.

Regardless, she vowed not to sit next to him on the bus. When school let out she was determined to find another seat, even if she had to pay someone else to sit with him. Damon seemed like a nice black boy at first, but Dorothy was quickly realizing that there was no such thing. All black boys were bad, and Damon was the worst as far as she was concerned.

When she boarded the bus she found Damon waiting for her. As soon as she climbed the ramp he smiled at her. They locked eyes, and Dorothy froze in place. Behind her a boy called for her to move, but she could hardly hear him. That boy didn't seem to exist. Only Damon was real at that moment.

She scanned the area for an empty seat, and found plenty of places to sit. Her heart fluttered as she started walking down the aisle. At the sight of Damon she lost all of her courage. Her legs moved without heading her head.

Somewhat submissively, she moved directly toward Damon and sat by him. She was blushing and smiling bashfully. Though she had vowed not to sit by him again, she did, and once again she was face-to-face with a bad black boy who had been so audacious and so amazing at the same time. Strangely, she felt happy to be at his side again, but she was not pleased with such a feeling and tried to reject it.

"Hello there, Snowflake," Damon said with a broad smile.

Dorothy merely nodded curly. She mentally chided herself for her behavior and looked around the bus to see if there was a seat for her to take up.

Damon groused teasingly. "So, you're going to be like that? Then why'd you even sit with me anyway?" He put his big, black arm around her small, white shoulders and smiled. "Oh, I know why you sat with me. You want to see my cock again? Well, who am I to refuse a fine lady such as you? Wait until the bus gets going and everyone is settled in. Then I'll give you a private viewing."

True to his word, Damon waited until the bus was situated. When it lurched forward he looked around and made sure no one was paying much attention. Then he asked Dorothy to block the view of the other seat with her body. Despite reservations, she did was she was told without much thought.

After that Damon smiled. "Are you ready?" He didn't give her time to answer. As soon as he asked he pulled his big, black penis out. It was already somewhat hard. Apparently the thought of Dorothy seeing it aroused him, and it didn't take long before it was at full rigidity. Dorothy was amazed by its immensity.

She stared, wide-eyed. Of course she had seen his penis earlier that morning, but its size and darkness still amazed her. Upon a second viewing, Dorothy decided that Damon didn't have a penis at all. He probably had one of those horse cocks that she heard the trashier girls at school talk about. Yet that couldn't be correct either, because all those girls dated white guys.

It occurred to her that maybe Damon was even bigger than a horse cock. His cock wasn't merely a horse cock, but it was a big, BLACK horse cock. She couldn't avert her gaze from it. His big black horse cock took up her whole focus.

Damon sat silently and watched her stare for a while. Then he said, "Do you like it, Snowflake?"

Dorothy didn't respond. She didn't even look at him. Her attention was still on his big black horse cock.

Damon laughed at her again. "Look at you, so focused. I know what you're waiting for. You're waiting for my permission to touch it. Well, let me tell you, Snowflake, you don't have to wait for permission. Go ahead and touch as much as you like."

Damon reached for Dorothy's hand, and though she attempted to pull away from him, it was half-hearted. He easily took her hand and placed it against his big black cock. Unsure of how to react, she took hold of his manhood with little resistance.

It surprised her how warm and hard his big black cock was. She expected it to be rough due to its size, but it was surprisingly smooth. In a way, it felt like warm steel to her, and she found that she liked that about it. Holding his black cock was actually delightful, and she found that she didn't want to let go.

The smoothness of his cock was wonderful or her soft, little palms, and without thinking she ran her hands along his immense shaft. It didn't occur to her that by moving her hand along his cock she was jerking it off. In her mind she was merely enjoying the feel of warmth again her palm.

Normal logic was void to her suddenly. All that felt real to her was his big black cock. It was so large that it filled her focus, and she loved how warm and hard it felt in her hand. She continued to massage it because she wanted to feel it all over, and she grasped it tighter, afraid to let it go. The smoothness, the rigidity, the heat, the feel of his cock against her hand was euphoric. She quickly grew to crave the sensation.

It wasn't until his big black cock twitched in her hands that she realized what she was doing. For the first time in her life, Dorothy was doing something sexual, and she was enjoying it. At that point she didn't care how much of a slut she was being. She was too overcome with passion to stop. So she continued to jerk on his twitching black cock without restraint.

Then is pulsed, and she felt something surging within the shaft. Sperm spewed forth from his monster cock quite suddenly, and it came in abundance. A liter of thick, white goo bellowed forth from his beastly black cock, which pulsated in her small, white hands. The back of the seat in front of them was covered in his semen. Dorothy stared in astonishment as his cock lurched and fire one thick stream after another.

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