Anything Goes: Lust in the Shadows

Anything Goes:

Lust in the Shadows

Between lines of love & forbidden passion, she found truth.

Mary Not Wollstonecraft

© Copyright 2023 by Mary Not Wollstonecraft

NOTE: This work contains material not suitable for anyone under eighteen (18) or those of a delicate nature. This is a story and contains descriptive scenes of a graphic sexual nature. This book is purely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously--any resemblance to actual persons, whether living, deceased, actual events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

A young black man attempts to seduce a young white woman days before her wedding. Will she resist her newfound yearnings, or will her love for a man she recognizes is weak and effeminate keep her from satisfying her cravings?

In a dark alley, a young woman discovers desire, intimacy, and yearning don't require love.

Anything Goes: Lust in the Shadows

Growing up, my parents taught me all the wrong things about what was "right" and "wrong" concerning race. My folks had always emphasized racial separation and keeping to one's own kind. So, I followed that rule -- until one day, everything changed. Overnight, I found myself completely enthralled by black men, unable to deny my attraction to them -- no matter how I tried to deny my feelings. It felt like a battle inside of me. As if the taboo of the thing drew me to black guys, challenging all the values I'd learned.

As long as they are alive, this isn't something I will tell them. The desire is a secret I've kept from them for years.

My addiction to black men didn't start until I was 18 and worked at a convenience store. A couple of black coworkers, one about my age and the other in his thirties, constantly harassed me.

They'd taunt me and tease me without mercy. Pinching my ass, rubbing my breasts, or battering my ears and sensibilities with nasty comments. These unwanted advances always upset me. But, if I'm honest, they thrilled me as well. They were good-looking men, enormous with powerful builds, and their unwanted advances built my confidence about my appearance.

"Fine ass for a cracker hoe. When are you gonna let me tap that pussy?" or rude comments like, "Once you go black, you'll never go back." All the cheesy lines you'd expect. Eventually, this became very annoying. And yet, somehow, exciting and intriguing.

These unwanted comments made my mind go to a place it shouldn't. I wondered what hid under their pants.

I had a white fiancé. He'd been my only boyfriend, my solitary sexual experience, and our understanding of what we did was incomplete. I love him dearly, but he was, and is, a soft, effeminate boy. Actually, from the get-go, I was envious of how attractive he was. In those days, I called him handsome. I didn't even realize how girly he was.

So anyway, one night, about a week before I married my boyfriend, everything changed. Carla asked me to finish, so she could leave and spend time with her kid. So, I end up working the closing shift at the store. I saw Shaquan, the younger black guy, walk into the men's back bathroom. I followed him, thinking I would harass him for a change and maybe he'd leave me alone. So he's in the stall peeing, and I walk in. He looks over and is clearly shocked to see me watching him.

"What you doing here, girl?" he said, his back turning slightly and glancing over his shoulder at me.

"So, are you going to show me your penis? Come on, big boy, don't you want to show me? Don't you want me to see how big your black cock is?"

He stood there, frozen. I'd shocked him. Good, now he'd know what it was like. I repeated my question. When I got no immediate response, I turned to leave.

"Hold up bitch, where you going?"

I turn to tell him to Fuck Off, and he's, flopping this long, fat black penis shaking the last of the piss to the floor. Shaquan stood there, rubbing it, flaying it about like a limp-ish sword, and smiling at me with an evil grin. The massive snake in his hand flexed, swelled, and threatened to harden into a thick, black, steel shaft.

I swear it was the most enormous dick I'd ever seen. My heart raced, a layer of cotton coated my mouth, and I couldn't move. He wasn't hard, and his pecker was at least three times my fiancé's size.

At that moment, something about the forbidden nature of the thing ignited an overwhelming passion inside of me. Guilt and exhilaration are at odds, making this encounter more thrilling and dangerous.

He walked to me, grabbed my hand, and forced my hand to his prick. To my shame, I didn't do anything to resist him. For a moment, Shaquan moved my hand up and down on him. This was only the second penis I had touched, and I was excited. When he released my hand, I kept stroking him. His prick grew from my rubbing his cock.

While it felt wrong and terrible, like I was cheating, I felt him getting stiffer, and I liked how it made me wet between my legs. I looked down at his swarthy, ebony, leathery, thickly veined cock and gripped my pale, white hand around him. Without asking, he began kissing me as I stroked him.

He pushed me back against the tiled wall and pinned my wrists above my head. My breasts heaved with quickened breathing as he pressed me against his chest. His delicious, warm lips went to my neck, sucking in my skin into his delightful mouth. Returning to my mouth, we kissed again and stroked his fat cock. His lips were thicker than mine, and his long tongue snaked inside my mouth. More wetness flowed between my legs.

When he broke the kiss, pulling away, a long spider's web tendril of spit hung between us, falling to my chin and neck. He cleaned it off and moved the slabber to my mouth, and I licked his finger clean. He leered, knowing what effect he had on me. With our faces inches apart, the heat radiated from him, mixing with the musky scent of his sweat, which combined with mine, making for an incredibly erotic experience.

Shaquan kissed me again. A deep passionate kiss, as one hand rubbed circles over one of my breasts and then the other, he stuck his tongue almost to my throat. While his other hand explored lower, pressing my pubic mound, squeezing me through my pants, I moaned.

The sensation was intensely pleasurable, and I felt myself moving higher and higher until I couldn't take anymore, but I didn't want him to stop either! His thick fingers clutched me, working me. Shaquan sensed this struggle in me, so he slowed down. Allowing me to float back down on a wave of pleasure before taking us both higher yet again, with each expert stroke against my pussy.

I closed my eyes, desperately searching for images of my fiancé. But all I could recall was that he never excited or gave me a rush of emotions like those that now threatened to overwhelm me.

"You know you wanna slide this between those sexy lips," he whispered in my ear, "don't you?"

Shaquan put his hands on my shoulders effortlessly, pushing me to my knees. He was absolutely right about what I wanted. Those bear's paws sized hands touched me, and I melted under the pressure of his touch.

Here I am, 5ft tall with dirty blonde hair, pale white skin, barely 100lbs, kneeling before a black man, face to face with his giant black penis. He took hold of his prick, smacking the thing around my lips. I hesitated. He used his free hand to clutch my hair and force my mouth to his dick.

"Open wide, blondie."

I did my best. I had only given my fiancé a few blowjobs before, and he was maybe three inches hard, and I'd foolishly thought he was big. So now I'm on my knees, getting my mouth fucked by a black guy while I'm supposed to be working. His fat schlong hit the back of my throat as he went faster, deeper, shoving it down my throat.

As Shaquan watched me, he sneered in satisfaction as I gagged on his shaft. He pushed himself deeper and harder into my throat until I couldn't handle it anymore; pleasure coursed through my body, and my pussy was slick with arousal. I wanted to beg for mercy, yet I knew he craved my submission, so I obliged without hesitation.

He continued thrusting faster and harder until I thought I would be sick. Yet underneath the nausea was a deep pleasure that made every second worth it.

Eventually, after an eternity, which wasn't all that long, Shaquan pulled out of me and left me gasping for air on the floor. Between my legs was a wet mess, which soaked through my panties into my pants.

"Get back on it, blondie," he snarled.

I sucked his prick for all I was worth; it was the best blowjob I could give, considering my experience, and I had him shouting, "Good cock sucker," as his breathing grew heavier. Now that controlled me, I was determined to get him off. I tightened my grip and licked around the head of his penis, swirling my tongue and trying to suck as best I might.

He moaned with pleasure and slammed into me, more demanding than before. He grabbed a handful of my hair, yanked my head to a different position, and thrust deeper into my throat. His fingers were so tightly clutched my hair it hurt, but I didn't care -- all I wanted was for him to come.

His groans filled the area, and he kept thrusting down into my throat until, finally, his body spasmed and released inside me. I felt a warmth rush up through my neck and chest as he pulsed inside me hard enough to cause tears to stream from my eyes.

My mouth tasted metallic from his salty pre-cum, and still, he hammered his rod into my throat. My head spun as my mind filled with confusion and embarrassment over what had happened. This act of lust filled me with guilt for being unfaithful to my fiancé and disgust at myself for being so turned on by it all.

"Get me off, bitch."

I wrapped my right hand around the thick shaft and pumped it. I must have been doing something right because Shaquan grabbed the back of my head, twisted my hair, and held my head motionless, allowing me to jack him faster.

"That it, bitch, corkscrew your tongue, come on, blondie."

I kept the pace up fast, slobbering on the four inches of cock in my mouth and working the rest of his cock with my tiny hand.

With a firm grip on my hair, his cockhead pushed well past my lips. I licked and sucked it with fervent intensity to make him cum. With each thrust of his hips, more of him filled my mouth. But always, he pulled out almost all the way. Until I felt his balls tighten in my hand. His body tensed as he groaned a guttural growl and unleashed hot semen into my throat.

Even so, he shot more juicy thick lather into my mouth and throat. Grunting like an angry pig, he dumped his seed into me. Battering waves of spasming ecstasy gushed from him and filled my mouth. More followed in unrelenting currents, overflowing from my mouth and spilling from my nose as I swallowed every drop I could.

I kept swallowing because Shaquan kept twisting my hair and leaning into me as he spurted more batter into my mouth.

"You eat that shit down, bitch. You gonna clean up all you lost, too." Shaquan pulled out of my mouth, pulling me to his cum covered pants, and licked him clean. Smacking my face with his dick, he laughed.

"You liked that, bitch, didn't you?"

I nodded.

When he finished, he stepped back, looking pleased with himself while I tried to catch up on oxygen without choking myself on his cum still dripping down my throat. The entire experience only took perhaps fifteen minutes. Still, it felt like an eternity passed between us in that nasty men's restroom where no one else knew we existed.

Shaquan wiped himself off on my face, returned his dick to his pants, zipped up his jeans, and looked away from me without so much as an "until next time" or any other kind words. Turning back to me, he gave me a soft grin.

"What you thinking about, your broken-pencil-dicked boyfriend?"

I shook my head.

"Well, what?"

"Thinking about fucking you," I admitted. The truth, while exciting, scared me shitless.

"Come on, blondie, follow me. I know a place where we won't get caught."

My mind raced with a thousand conflicting thoughts as I trailed behind him. With every step, my heart told me to turn and flee, but my feet kept following him closer and closer. My conscious warned me not to put myself in this situation again, yet I still moved forward despite the warnings. It felt like I was a puppet on a string, dragged along by an invisible force.

A force I so desperately needed to yield to.

In a few moments, we're outside behind the store, in the alley, by the trash cans. Shaquan strips my clothes from my body, and I let him. First, he unbuttons my pink polo work shirt. He tosses it aside. Next, he unsnapped my bra, stretched it on my arms, pulled it free, and launched it to the side.

I cover my small breasts with my hands as his black fingers hook into the waist of my flowered silk white lace panties. From underneath them, I can see his powerful arm muscles swell as they curve around my hips while he shimmies me out of them. He doesn't bother with foreplay. He goes right for the zipper of my slacks, and I wiggle out of them, ready for whatever will happen. I watch his strong hands slide my pants down my hips as they fall in a heap of cloth around my ankles.

And there I stand, ants running up and down my spine, fully naked, covering my boobs with one hand and my little patch of blonde pubic hair with the other. Shaquan is smiling a sly smile. It's like he's proud of himself -- like he just won a prize. He looks me up and down, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. His eyes are hungry, devouring me whole.

Then he moves closer, brushing against me. My skin tingles as his fingers graze across my shoulders and arms before wrapping around my waist. He pulls me close, so close I can feel his breath on my neck.

His hands trail downwards, leaving heat trails on my body until they finally reach the warmest part of me. With a bit of roughness, Shaquan slips his fingers inside of me as if searching for something. Something he didn't know existed until now. He claims it as his own. His movements are not quite gentle, firm, and demanding -- his fingertips explored every inch of me, and a moan escaped from between my lips unbidden. I'm almost lost in pleasure when suddenly he stops and steps away from me again, leaving me trembling and unsatisfied.

Shaquan didn't even bother taking his clothes off. He dropped his pants to his ankles and pulled out his cock, which felt like a piece of roughhewn wood ready to be pounded into something soft and wet. I kneeled, took the swollen head in my mouth, and worked him back into my throat.

Yes, I did it without being told. I fully understood what he wanted. No, what demanded without words.

I'm doing my best to blow this black guy. He was bigger than my boyfriend by seven or eight inches. It took my mouth stretched as wide as possible. The length of it pressed against the back of my tongue, making me gag. Spital boils in my mouth, and the bulbous cockhead swelled, invading deeper. Shit, there was nowhere else for it to go but deeper inside of me, down my throat.

There I am, bobbing on his massive rod and calling me naïve, or stupid, but I thought this was as far as it would go. Me blowing Shaquan again and maybe him finishing by jacking off to the ground, even though I was naked. Stupid assed me -- I figured I helped him get off again, and we're done.

That's not what Shaquan had in mind, as I soon found out.

Shaquan stood me up, his eyes penetrating mine as he leaned in to kiss me. His lips were rough but warm and inviting, and I could feel the heat radiating off him. His tongue met mine as they intertwined, and a pool of desire gathered between my legs. His hands caressed my body, rubbing my chest and teasing my nipples before slipping to my white belly and further down between my legs.

With a strange lightness, he smacked my pussy. Each whack was a little more brutal, warming me there.

I gasped as his thick, black fingers explored my wetness, pressing inside me and making me moan into his mouth. I felt so dirty and slutty with Shaquan fingering me like a trailer park whore. God help me, it made me even wetter. He kept up the rhythm with his fingers until I was panting heavily, then he shifted gears and started thrusting his hips against mine.

The sensation was severe, a mixture of pleasure and pain, with tears streaming down my cheeks from the passion of it all.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Shaquan released me from his grip and stepped away to look at the masterpiece he had created in front of him... me on display, like a piece of art for him to admire.

My body trembled from head to toe with pleasure and exhaustion as I tried to catch my breath again. All I could do at that moment was gaze at Shaquan in awe as he beamed wickedly at me with prideful lust in his eyes.

I felt so dirty, like a cheap whore, which made me even wetter.

He pushed me up against a large trash can. I stood there as he lifted one of my legs, holding it with his arm. I put my arms around his neck and knowing he was about to fuck me. He paused.

"Tell me, bitch, tell me what you want. Come on now, blondie cunt, tell me you want this black dick."

I wanted it bad. I'd never been so damn wet. Slapping my pussy with his cock, Shaquan taunted me.

"Say, you want me to fuck you with my black cock," Shaquan demanded. Smacking my pussy with that giant twat cleaver, he taunted me.

"Fuck me... Fuck me with your black penis," I begged.

"No bitch," still holding my leg up with my pussy exposed and his cock slapping against it.

"Say you a white slut who needs my black cock."

"Fuck me. Fuck this white girl raw with your enormous black shaft."

Shaquan rubs the head over my pussy.

I'm looking down as his black dick slides deep inside my pussy. I can hardly see it, nothing more than a darker shade of the gray mist that coats everything in this world. I wonder if I am even here to him, just a tiny hole to destroy, a white cunt to plunge into and get lost in. My God, he's so big, I think to myself. His dick fills me up and keeps going until there's no more room left. My pussy stretched taut around his massive, girthy cock.

It hurts, but in a good way, like how you feel when your body has had enough, so you must sleep after a long day. I can feel him all over me, invading every inch of space between us with his hard dick.

And on it goes, as he continues to thrust deep inside me, my body quivering and shaking with pleasure at the sensation of his massiveness invading me.

I grip his arms tighter as he slides his massive member further and deeper into me. Each of his powerful thrusts forced the air from my lungs. Pleasure saturates me, and I moan as I gradually adjust to his size. Each time he withdrew and re-entered me, Shaquan filled me again with new shockwaves of pleasure rippling through my body. Hot, sensual waves of delight hit me like tidal waves.

The feeling was indescribable, a burning sensation mixed with white-hot desire, craving more. An all-consuming need filled, amplified, and hammered deep into me. With his fingers grasping my hips, he pounds into me relentlessly, pushing us closer and closer toward a climax. My back arches, and I press back to take more of him, begging for more with each thrust.

"What would mommy and daddy say if they knew you were getting screwed by a black cock, huh?"

"Disgusted, my mother would call me nasty names."

My hands frantically search for something stable to cling onto and grasp at the trash can as if I am lost in a tornado of pleasure consumed by this relentless, energized force.