BBBW Domination

Summary: 2 BBBW sisters are seduced by two white models.

Note 1: This is dedicated to Tex Beethoven, and Robert for editing.

Note 2: Thanks to Daddydick89 for the idea.

BBBW Domination

"Are we really going to do this?" Janice asked her elder sister.

"Well, I've bought the tickets, and they were paid for from my divorce settlement, so the answer is a big, resounding yes." Joanne, two years older, her interminable three-year divorce finally settled... including a big payout from the cheating bastard... was raring to go!

"I do like spending the asshole who shall remain nameless's money to do it," Janice said, feeling that two weeks at a fancy Caribbean resort was a dream come true.

"Yes, I may as well walk away with something from his banging that twenty-year-old white bitch," Joanne said, still a little angry at the betrayal. Married for nineteen years (the same as the age of her daughter, if anyone was paying attention to why they'd rushed into their wedding), and then it was over.

"We haven't done anything just the two of us for years," Janice said, happy to get out of the country for a while, and hoping to find a new purpose in her life. Her own husband Baker had passed away suddenly from heart issues they'd never known he had. One day he was with her laughing and playing tennis against another couple, and the next day he was dead. Life just wasn't fair.

"Well, we're going to live it up on this trip," Joanne promised, not sure what to do on her own. Jared's betrayal had been devastating, but at least her daughter Jackie had steadfastly supported her throughout the endless ordeal... as of course had Joanne's own loving sister. But as long as her daughter had still been at home, she'd had a purpose... she'd always lived for her daughter. She was an active member of the PTA, she'd attended Jackie's every basketball game -- she was still proud to say she'd never missed even one -- and was delighted when Jackie had gotten a full-ride basketball scholarship... except that USC was in California, and they'd always lived in Lexington, a suburb of Boston. With her daughter now away at school on the far side of the country, she was completely alone... for the first time in her life. Except of course for her sister, who was her rock.

Janice had struggled emotionally ever since her husband's unexpected death. With him, she'd had a plan. They'd never had kids, since she wasn't physically able... because of her ovulation irregularity, her periods had always been anything but regular, and apparently that condition affected a woman's fertility... which they'd learned after years of trying... but he'd always set goals for them apart from their well-paying jobs: saving up for their next and better house; supporting the Boston Symphony and the Red Sox and many other cultural and sporting events. But without him suddenly, she was left with no direction. Her co-workers said she should meet another man. She should go out and date. But she just couldn't. She'd tried. No other man in the world could hold a candle to Baker, and no matter how hard she tried not to, she couldn't help comparing every man she went out with to her late beloved husband. Which of course wasn't fair to the other men, but nevertheless they simply didn't measure up.

"So much rum and so little time," Joanne joked, being a rum connoisseur.

"You and your rum," Janice reproved her mildly, much preferring cocktails like margaritas and bellinis.

Joanne shrugged, "Plus, maybe we can get you laid at this resort."

"Gross," Janice said, having not been intimate with a man for over two years. Or in other words, ever since Baker.

"A nice big dick should rejuvenate you," Joanne, always the wilder of the two, and also the more direct one, teased.

"Big? You and size," Janice reproved again, a little less mildly.

"Size matters," Joanne insisted, a mantra she'd recited to her sister for their entire lives. Baker had been a great guy and really good looking, but as a black man, he hadn't lived up to the BBC legend. Six inches, which isn't bad, even moderately impressive when attached to a white man, but woefully undersized when compared to her own experience with a variety of black lovers in her earlier life. (Yes, she and Janet had always told each other everything.) Her own husband Jared (or rather her ex-husband Asshole), had been (and no doubt still was) nine inches long, and thick, and he'd really known how to fuck her into submission. Truth was, Joanne was a very proud black woman, someone you'd never want to fuck with, except literally, yet when she was sharing a bedroom with a big dick, she became a different person. She needed that dick. She craved that dick. She would do anything to be fucked like a cheap whore! Yet after Jared's betrayal, she had completely lost her sexual appetite. She now felt insecure whenever she was confronted with possible intimacy, and since she'd lost the sexual persona that had drawn men to her ever since high school... what did she have left? Her huge tits and big booty had always helped as well, but if she wasn't on the market, what good were they?.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Janice sighed, having heard that her entire life. Janice, unlike her sister, had been with a grand total of three men in her entire life. There was the high school boyfriend who'd taken her virginity at the stereotypical prom; he was six inches. Then a white college boyfriend, who wasn't even five. And lastly Baker, who was also six inches, which by this time she felt was enough to please her. This was because she didn't get off from fucking... her sum total of orgasms from intercourse during her life, all added up to a big fat zero. Yet Baker had made up for that goose egg with his eager and experienced tongue... often even able to bring her to multiple orgasms. Yet ever since his death, her libido had dried up completely. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd masturbated.

"You wouldn't say that if a ten-inch dick was pile driving you into his bed," Joanne teased her wickedly, knowing it made her sister uncomfortable, even as it made Joanne reminisce about Jake, a college fuck toy who had pounded her pussy, and sometimes her ass, with his eleven-inch horse cock.

"Yes, because it's all about the pounding instead of the tenderness," Janice sighed again.

"Finally, you get it," Joanne crowed, ignoring her sister's sarcastic tone.

"I prefer intimacy," Janice said. Baker had made sweet love to her. He'd set the mood with a roomful of votive candles. A foot massage. A background of smooth saxophone blues or Sade. A bubble bath. Roses.

"Sure you do; because that always gets you off," Joanne smirked. "Not!"

Janice sighed yet again. She still regretted making the mistake after one too many drinks, of telling her sister she'd never climaxed during intercourse. She could still recall the entire conversation like it was yesterday, even though it was over ten years ago.

Flashback...

It was Janice's birthday, and her husband was stuck working up in Canada, of all places. So her elder sister took her out for supper and drinks. And after three hours, they were both rather intoxicated.

"I can't believe you don't get to have a birthday fucking," Joanne said. "I'd be super pissed."

"It's no big deal," Janice shrugged, and for her it wasn't. While her sister assessed the quality of her relationship by how often they fucked and how wild it got, she saw her own relationship as more spiritual. That said, their half-hour sex talk already had Joanne vividly describing an encounter at a staff party where she came three times (in the bathroom, then in an office, and finally from being fingered on a couch with a crowd of other people in the room... and oh yes... she also had a load of cum leaking out of her pussy, as she was sans underwear like she often was (leaving a telltale stain behind on said couch) and was wearing another load between her big tits, which was rather visible because it was still wet and soaking through her blouse. Usually such lurid descriptions did very little for Janice, she had gotten used to them, but she hadn't had any sex in a month because of Baker's Canadian commitments, and she was feeling a little stir crazy.

"Fuck that, it is a big deal, it's a huge deal," Joanne overexaggerated like she tended to do. She then smirked, "Well, for you, poor thing, I guess it's only a medium to smallish deal."

"Six inches is just fine," Janice sighed, wishing she'd never answered that question when Joanne had asked back when they were first dating.

"No one ever describes a proper dick as 'just fine'," Joanne pointed out rather accurately, and using air quotes. No one wanted to be described as just fine; that term was as vanilla as it got. You look fine today. My date was fine. His cock was fine. No matter how it's worded, no matter the tone, (unless you're in an eighties movie and a black woman is describing a hot man: he's so fine! (But that only worked in the 80s, only worked if said by a black woman, and only when said in a certain fashion)) it was definitely not a compliment.

"Okay, then it's good if you prefer," Janice corrected herself, having had lengthy discussions like this with her sister, well, more like one-sided rants, about the word 'fine' in the past.

"Amazing, orgasmic, twat filling," Joanne listed. "Those are all apt descriptors for a sexual experience. At least they are... if they fit."

Janice sighed yet again. It was her go to move when her sister was on a roll, and she was really on a roll at the moment.

"Sighing like you always do whenever this subject comes up, just admits that I'm right," Joanne said, having always used this strange theory to so-called prove she was right... ignoring the obvious reality that a sigh was a not very subtle hint she was being annoying.

But this time Janice didn't even notice. She just sighed again.

"See?"

"Whatever." Janice forced herself to restrain yet another sigh about to escape her lips. Instead, she attempted to fight fire with fire. She said, the alcohol giving her courage to speak so inappropriately, "His six-inch dick is amazing at filling my pussy, until I reach orgasmic euphoria," even though truth be told, she'd never actually come from intercourse.

Joanne noticed something in her sister's face. Her sister had an obvious tell when she lied: a twitch under her left eye. She called her sister out on it. "You're lying. What about?"

"W-W-What?" Janice stammered, surprised by the accusation.

"You just lied to me," Joanne accused.

"I did not," Janice denied, not knowing how Joanne could possibly know that she was.

"I know Baker's cock isn't amazing; how could it be if it's only six inches?" Joanne deduced. "But that isn't the lie you feel guilty about."

"No, it's not," Janice agreed, even though she wasn't even sure what was true and what wasn't, in this suddenly confusing conversation.

"So, what, pray tell, is the lie?" Joanne pondered out loud, gazing at her sister, looking for clues, trying for Sherlock Holmes.

"There is no lie," Janice lied.

"No, that was another lie, so there is, there's something you're hiding," Joanne insisted, physically pointing at her younger sister. After a pause while she analyzed her sister's expression and replayed their conversation, the lightbulb flicked on. "Oh my God, you poor thing."

"What? Why?" Janice asked; her sister couldn't have a clue. Could she?

"He never gets you off with his tiny dick," Joanne deduced correctly.

Janice sighed and then said, although she didn't deny the principal claim, "His dick isn't tiny."

"No? Sorry then, his average-sized dick doesn't get you off," Joanne amended.

"He gets me off in other ways," Janice said, defending her man.

"With his tongue?"

"Yes, yes, he's very good with his tongue," Janice asserted confidently, feeling she was turning the tide in this conversation.

"That's something a woman only says if her man can't get her off with his dick," Joanne countered.

"But I've never come on anyone's dick," Janice blurted out, thinking that by admitting this, she'd somehow be defending her husband... maybe it was something else wrong with her body in addition to her ovulation condition... a possibility she'd considered many times.

"That doesn't make it any better," Joanne refuted. "It only means you've never dated anyone but inept, small-dicked men."

"Enough!" Janice cried, sick of this conversation.

"Whatever," Joanne shrugged. "Your loss."

"I love Baker," Janice asserted.

"I do too," Joanne agreed, deciding this conversation had come to an end. "He's a great guy."

"Exactly," Janice nodded, as she downed her drink and waved to the bartender for another.

.....

"Let's just go and have some fun," Janice said, now in their present-day conversation.

"Agreed," Joanne said. "And if we can find a ten-inch dick to pound your vayjayjay, all the better."

"You never give up, do you?" Janice asked with a laugh. Some people never change.

"Nope," Joanne shrugged.

"Shouldn't we be finding you a ten-inch dick as well?" Janice asked.

"Nope. I'm done with men forever," Joanne declared, Jared's betrayal having really crushed her attraction to men.

"So... we'll need to find you a woman?" Janice joked.

"Perhaps," Joanne shrugged, not taking it as one.

"I was kidding," Janice pointed out.

"It's 2020; maybe it's time I did explore my sapphic side," Joanne shrugged, having been reading lesbian erotica for a couple months now... ever since a younger woman had flirted with her in a grocery store just when her stress from the divorce proceedings getting ugly were reaching a peak. Nothing had come of this flirtation, but ever since, she'd wondered what could have been.

"What?" Janice gasped, this not anything she'd ever imagined hearing from her big-dick-craving hound dog of a sister.

"What? You've never been turned on by a woman?" Joanne asked, her most secret fantasies actually very taboo, especially coming from her black pride worldview.

"I wouldn't say never," Janice said, having experienced a few contemplations of bi-curiosity in her life, although nothing more. She would see a pretty woman, usually younger than she, well actually always younger, and then would imagine this beauty seducing her. She never could understand why it was always that way round... other than her natural submissiveness. It was almost always with white girls too, which made her weird inner curiosity even more awkward... her sister being a black and proud advocate at all times; a principle she'd always supported.

Joanne asked, blunt as ever, "Have you ever eaten a twat?"

"Joanne!" Janice gasped, as a waitress walked by within earshot.

"I'll take that as a yes," Joanne pretended to assess, although she was pretty sure her sister hadn't. She was way too much of a prude, but teasing her was fun.

"No, I've never," Janice whispered, her cheeks going red at the accusation and the possibility of others hearing her sister's flamboyant don't-give-a-fuck-who-hears-me voice.

"Sure, sure," Joanne said, pretending not to believe her. Rattling her sister's cage was one of her favourite pastimes.

"No, I really haven't," Janice insisted. "Have you?"

"Nope. There's only one twat tickler at this table," Joanne continued to goad her sister.

"I'm not," Janice defended. "Now stop it."

"I know, I know," Joanne conceded, knowing she had pushed too far, as always. "I was just messing with you."

"Then stop it," Janice said.

"But would you, if the opportunity arose?" Joanne asked, truly wondering if she would.

"I doubt it," Janice said honestly, although she then realized that by not replying with a firm no, she'd yet again left the subject open for her sister to manipulate. She did find herself getting more looks from younger girls than she did from guys nowadays. Or at least she felt she did, and a little validation that she was still attractive at her age was nice. But truth was, she hadn't felt wanted since her husband's death, and her loneliness was growing.

"That wasn't a definite no," Joanne pointed out.

"I suppose it wasn't. But would you?" Janice countered.

"If the right woman came along, I might explore her lap of luxury," Joanne smiled as she finished her drink.

"Lap of luxury: rich," Janice smirked.

"Just saying; what happens in the Caribbean stays in the Caribbean," Joanne said. "So, if you find a nice, big, ten-inch dick to drill that pussy of yours, or..."

"Why is it always ten inches?" Janice interrupted, that seeming such an arbitrary length.

"Nine is a little small for me, but twelve will tear you apart," Joanne explained.

Horny from all this talk and getting a little tipsy from the wine, she said, "Well, I'd just like one that got me off for a change."

"Ten inches it is, then," Joanne prescribed.

"If that's the voice of experience, then go find me a ten-inch dick," Janice challenged.

"You're on," Joanne accepted the challenge. She then added, "Although it might be a strap-on wielded by some Caribbean goddess."

"You're so bad," Janice laughed as she poured them some more wine, finishing the bottle.

"I bet you'd look great between some hot nineteen-year-old girl's legs," Joanne teased, all her fantasies about much younger girls... just out of high school... beautiful... tall... long legged... slender... blonde... in almost every way, the polar opposite to her own sturdy BBW frame. Truth was she had created a new acronym BBBW for Big Black Beautiful Woman).

"Oh, it will be you munching on that girl's pussy," Janice countered, although she was imagining herself on her knees licking the pussy of the cute Russian cashier at the 7-11 near her work she'd been chatting with for the past couple of months... her accent and slightly broken English were so cute, and oddly, sexy.

"I plan on taking whatever plastic cock and real pussy I can get," Joanne quipped.

"We should get t-shirts saying that," Janice joked.

Joanne laughed too. They spent the next hour chatting about travel plans before both women ended up in separate Ubers, and then in their own bedrooms, and both of them pleasured themselves to the idea of dining on a younger white girl's pussy.

Both came hard, and both collapsed spent, satisfied but a little embarrassed by the fantasy that was now consuming them.

.....

A week later, Janice and Joanne were already a couple days into their two-week trip.

Meanwhile...

The flight from Germany, where their most recent modeling shoot had been, west to the Caribbean, felt excruciatingly long to two models and best friends.

Josefin, a blonde blue-eyed bombshell from Sweden, six feet tall, slender, legs that went up and down for miles, was having a cocktail in first class when she asked, "Think I can get that stewardess to eat my pussy?"