BBC Patrol - Officer Brittany

Forenote:

This is Part 2 to BBC Patrol - Officer Sweeney, my previous work. It is also an unofficial entry in my Cyberpunk Black series. However, it is a standalone work.

Characters:

Brittany (Based on Brittany Perille of Instagram)

Dre (based on Dredd)

This is entirely a work of fiction and is in no way based on real people or things they have done.

Please enjoy!

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It was Saturday night and a gentle rain was falling as Brittany pulled into the local corner store. It was a bad neighborhood but her head was swimming after too many drinks at the club, and she decided to call it a night and head home. A group of black men were congregating outside the store smoking, one of which Brit recognized. He and her were both regulars, and their schedules seemed to coincide often when she would stop for a coffee break when on the beat. His name was Dre, a shipyard worker at Vigor Industrial. Per their last conversation, he was laid off several weeks ago, and was having difficulty finding another job. Seemed nice enough. Well spoken, handsome, and a good conversationalist.

She had a plan, and was smart enough to know it would work.

Brit disembarked from the car, adjusting and pulling down on the hem of her dress as she stood up. It was a tight sleeveless black dress with a low square neck cut; an ideal cut for her large prominent breasts. The inseam was halfway up her toned thighs and displayed her muscular, developed ass. Then she fixed her hair, putting it up into a long ponytail using a hairband. She grabbed her purse from the passenger seat, shouldered it, closed and locked the door. When walking past the men, she made eye contact with each of them but held her gaze slightly longer on Dre. Her heels made a sharp click-clack as she walked across the asphalt into the store. The men's eyes were locked fiercely onto her as she entered. Surprise painted their faces. Seeing an attractive white woman in a black neighborhood at that hour had them flummoxed by the audacity of such a thing. One of them dropped his cigarette while staring, and quickly stooped down to pick it up while the rest of his friends laughed at him.

She walked through the convenience store with intention. Two bottles of champagne occupied both hands on her way to the counter. The older black man behind the counter seemed just as bemused as the men outside, his mouth gaping slightly. Brit took immediate note of this; she knew what she was doing.

"Yes. Oh--no, actually. Can I get a pack of Black & Mild's?" said Brit, quickly correcting herself.

After a small pause, he reached under the counter to retrieve the pack of B&Ms, and handed her a lighter from atop the counter. After paying, he double-bagged her bottles of champagne. She put the smokes in her purse.

"Thank you again," she said with a bright smile. "You probably don't recognize me. I'm here almost every day in the afternoon getting coffee during work. I'm a cop." The last line was delivered with subtle shame in her voice.

The man blanched almost unperceptively at hearing this; most would have missed it. "I guess I just not have not had the pleasure of meeting you, miss. They almost always got me working the graveyard shift."

"I know how that is," Brit said with an eyeroll. "Sucks, but we get through it. Thanks again!" she said as she grabbed the bags. He nodded in return. His gaze followed her as she walked out the door.

The men were still standing outside and it looked to her that two more had joined them since she walked inside. They were laughing, cajoling one another with deals and bets. Talk of a cousin conning one of them in a car sale. Someone was out of weed, asking around if anyone had a joint. The chatter almost ceased completely when she walked by, their attention quickly fixated to her. Then the catcalling began. A symphony of whistling, misogynistic comments, and jeering.

"Snow bunny. White girl. Hot-ass white bitch."

"Pig."

"Cop."

She reached her car and placed one of the bottles in the front passenger seat, taking the other with her. She closed and locked the door. The men stared with rapt attention, now mostly silent. She joined them under the awning to get out of the gentle rain. Without saying a word, she placed the champagne on the ground and rummaged through her purse for her smokes. She grabbed a black and mild and took it out of its wrapper.

"Any of you gentlemen have a lighter? I seem to have forgotten mine."

The men stared amongst themselves dumbfounded. Dre, however, without saying a word, reached into his pocket and offered his lighter. The small flame dancing as she leaned forward to reach it with her cigar. Her eyes met his as she puffed softly. He looked devilishly handsome in that moment. Dreads pulled back into a bun, collared shirt and khakis, tall, and dark. Peppered grey in his black stubbled beard. He towered over her.

And he was the one man in the group that was silent just minutes ago.

"Well, it certainly sounds like you all know who I am," Brittany said mockingly. "But just in case---my name is Brittany. She looked each man in the eye. "Why are you all so quiet now?"

One of the men broke the silence. "We're just not sure why a pig like you is here tonight. Don't think that's very smart of you, either."

She looked at him. "And who might you be?"

"I'm not telling you shit."

The men started laughing. Again Dre was silent as he smoked his cigarette.

"Ohhh, I see." She took a long drag of her cigar. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Jabari."

The men lost their minds in an uproar of laughing. Jabari looks visibly upset and was the only one not laughing. Finally, another man spoke.

"Is this a sting? I think you should be on your way before you get hurt though, for real. We all know you're a city pig. And pigs never come around here. They shouldn't."

"Is that how you feel, Jamal?" she said lasciviously.

"How the fuck..." he trailed off.

She took another drag. "Amazing what you can pick up on in just a couple minutes by walking by. But don't worry; I'm not interested in you, Jamal." She shifted her eyes from him to Dre. "I'm interested in your friend."

Dre may have blushed but it was hard to read. "I do think we've met before," he said with a chuckle.

"Several times," she replied with a wink.

The men began to playfully shove his shoulder and laugh. An unnamed man said "Dre, I always knew you had a thing for them snow bunnies, goddamn!" Dre said nothing but laughed. "And damn you picked a good one this time!" the man continued.

"She's a fucking cop!" yelled Jabari, clearly intoxicated on several substances.

Brittany guffawed at this. "No one---and I do mean no one---will be getting arrested tonight. I'm off-duty and kind of tipsy myself." She paused for a few moments. "What I am going to do, however, is take your boy Dre with me. I have some plans for him." She stooped down to pick up the bottle and started towards her car, throwing her B&M onto the ground. "Dre?" she called out to him.

The men all looked at Dre to see what he would do. Dre stood there steadfast as he continued to work on his cigarette. Finally, he spoke.

"You want me to just...come home with you? I mean, we've talked a few times, but...this whole thing sounds sketchy. We know what your kind do to ours."

She opened the car as she faced him. "Not my home. My father owns an unused garage. That's where I'll be taking you."

"What the...fuck, bitch!" Jamal spouted off. "Dre, what the fuck, man. Don't do that. Fuck her, fuck this. Get in your car and get out of here! Now! I'm telling you now!"

Dre kept smoking. "And what will we be doing at this garage of yours?" he said as he exhaled.

Brittany deliberated her next words. "You will be fucking me until I can't stand up anymore. And then you will keep going."

The men lost their minds. Congratulatory cheers, dapping, and yelling ensured. Jamal was speaking in tongues he was so mad.

"And how do I know you're telling the truth?" said Dre.

"You'll just have to trust me."

"I might need a little more than that."

Brittany thought to herself for a moment. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was deep-seated desires. But it is wasn't really either of those things. This was her plan from the start. Her objective and her purpose. "What's behind the store? Any cameras?"

"No. Why?" he replied.

She closed the car door and walked towards him with the bottle still in her hand. The rain was still coming down softly. "Because you're going to take me back there, and you're going to fuck my pretty white face until you're satisfied."

He looked at her for a short while. Taking a few slows drags as he did so. She was standing just a foot away from him. Pretty, tall but not nearly as tall as him, brunette. Drop dead gorgeous with the body of a killer.

"This doesn't feel right. It feels like a trap. But I've always given white girls what they asked for. Come with me." He reached out his hand and grabbed her gently by the wrist and nodded casually, beckoning for her to follow him.

Dre took her around to the back of the building. The rain began to intensify, but the pair stayed close to the building and underneath the awning that wrapped around. The back area was sparse. A small parking lot with a couple of cars, ostensibly belonging to the corner store workers. A small lamp with a dying bulb was by the backdoor giving what little light it could. The rain pattered softly on the awning above them.

Brit looked around for somewhere dry and, ideally, clean. Her only option was a slightly soiled doormat, well-weathered and visually stamped with footprints. It was her only option. She placed the champagne bottle to the side of the mat, along with her purse, and kneeled down, resting completely on her haunches. Looking up, she saw him towering over her, a magnificent black obelisk demanding worship. It was an ongoing predicament. A fatal flaw in her character that affected her work as a police officer. The desire--no, the necessity--for complete subservience to black men. The need to venerate them. To kneel before them as a humble supplicant ready to receive the blessing of their seed.

Her hands worked nimbly at his belt. She moved to buttons and zipper next. He assisted her and pulled her head in close. She reveled in the smell of his musk; the masculinity of it was intoxicating. Even in the dim light, she could see the stark outline of his member against his briefs. It bulged prominently as it ran down his thigh like a Maglite. Then, she felt felt it as he moved her face into it. The hardness and rigidity was now palpable, and her mouth began to salivate being so close and yet still empty. She kissed it softly in gratitude for even being allowed to touch it.

Dre began to run his hands through her soft brown hair as he relished in her nuzzling and kissing. His cock was throbbing as it stressed the material of underwear in desperation. Desperation to be released and imbibed by the young white woman beneath him. He looked down as she worked. Her massive cleavage at this angle only got him harder. The thought of inserting his cock between her massive tits began to swell inside him. He resisted the primal urge to tear open her dress and use her tits for his pleasure. At least for now.

Brit began to increase the pace of her nuzzling and kissing. A spirit of lust was beginning to overtake her, and she was ready to take the sacrament at the altar. Reinforce her inferiority as she worshipped every inch of the veiny dark meat. Lavish it with praise and adoration. Her sole purpose to be used as an instrument of pleasure. To be marked as black-owned property. Submit to his divine superiority. She slowed down again, to give it the proper respect it rightfully deserved. It took time to worship a black cock properly. To her, it was just as much a matter of religious worship as it was lust. A submission to a higher power than herself. Spiritual devotion that can only be fulfilled with submission to her craving. It was an integral part of her identity and, in moments like, the purpose of her existence.

She pulled down his boxer briefs by the waistband. The dark, powerful cock sprung up and jutted powerfully towards her. It's sheer size, beauty, and undeniable power left her awestruck in its presence. Like an obsidian black pillar, it demanded reverence and respect. His big, black, bull balls hung with authoritative virility. Her eyes bulged in the carnality of it. Without thinking, her tongue flicked the tip of it, and it twitched in response. There was no concern if his friends or store workers were watching. She was here to perform her purpose.

Starting at the hilt, she ran her tongue slowly up the shaft to the tip, savoring the salty and sweet taste of his precum. Then, without preamble, Brittany imbibed it, her lips and tongue gently gripping the shaft as it entered her mouth and throat. His hands began to wrap around her temple, gripping it softly and then thrusting his way deeper into her throat. She was well trained, almost completely devoid of a gag reflex. But Dre possessed a cock the like of which she had no experienced, and she began to gurgle and gag as he took her throat. There was no romance on the back patio of the corner store; her on her knees with a practical stranger's cock in her mouth. Just a black master and his new dutiful slave, and him using her for her true worth. Her hands worked tirelessly as she milked the black shaft while sucking it.

She could feel him growing increasingly hard in her mouth as he used her. His soft, velvety cock making fast, rapid strokes. The gagging was worse now; he was pushing deeper than before. She was humbled by the raw size of the alpha bull. Older men knew what they wanted, and they knew how to give it. Breathing was also getting harder for her, but she didn't even know if she had the option of stopping. But she figured if he came now, he might not come back with her. She drew back from his cock. For the first time, she noticed his friends standing around them, watching.

"Fuck my tits, daddy," said Brittany, her first words since the face-fucking started. "Tear this dress open and take them." She was unabashed despite his friends being in audience.

Without a word, he grabbed the bodice of the dress with his large strong hands and ripped it open. Her tits spilled out magnificently. He bent slightly at the knees to get to the proper height, gripping his cock and orienting towards the large breasts beneath him.

"No...wait," Brit said. She grabbed the bottle of champagne and popped the cork. The bottle sprayed ceremoniously; the men surrounding them managed to mostly evade it but some got wet. "Now; slide it in." As Dre slid his cock between her breasts, she poured champagne down her cleavage and onto his cock. There was clamor and jubilation from the group of men watching.

"Fuck her tits!"

"Get it, Dre!"

"Use that bitch!"

Brittany heard it all. The cacophony of lustful men incited her into a religious fervor. With a hand on each of her breasts, she squeezed the enormous heavy cock between tits. She was performing her purpose: to bring pleasure to black bulls that were willing to anoint her with their blessing. Brittany met his strokes with a fluttering motion of her breasts, expeditiously milking the large black cock she had been tasked with. The length of the great cock passed through her breasts and into her mouth with each stroke. His precum was becoming profuse. It was delicious. Her pussy was dripping; she was positive her panties were beyond saturation.

"Fuck those fucking tits, daddy! Fuck them like you paid for it!" she found herself saying as the earthy, crude language escaped her lips. She knew in that moment she was just a object to be used. An object to be enjoyed by worthy men. Black men.

The man said nothing. The only audible sounds he made were grunts, growls, and sounds of ecstasy as he fucked the large white tits. He could feel himself getting close. He hadn't cum in a few days; the load would be great. He had full intention of blowing his load from her face to her tits. Leaving a sticky mess that would mark his territory. However, she pulled away, suddenly, and stood up.

Brittany turned around and faced the walls. She slowly pulled up the short skirt of her dress, then put her hands on the wall, arching her back slightly and pushing out her ass. She wiggled it softly, tantalizingly, and seductively. "Please, please...I can't wait any longer. Breed me here. Do it!" the white woman moaned. "Don't respect me---use me!"

Without a word, he was inside her. He could feel her body flinch as he entered. There would be no holding back, not with this white bitch. She deserved and needed it. He didn't bother asking about if he needed a condom.

He knew the answer to that.

The man pushed her harder into the wall. He wrapped his arms around her breasts and abdomen as he began thrusting at a blistering pace. There was greed, lust, and hunger in each stroke of his cock. The white pussy was tighter than he expected. Her muscular, fit body was built for sex, and her pussy gripped his cock with resolution. It wasn't long before each stroke became a battle not to cum.

Brittany lost track of how many times she orgasmed, each one causing her body to shake and convulse. She couldn't feel her legs; they lost sensation three orgasms ago. Her boots gripped the concrete unfalteringly. The breeding must continue, and he hadn't cum yet. She was so close to getting what she wanted---no, needed---to stop now. The flesh was weak but she would endure to receive her blessing.

She could hear his breathing becoming labored and heavy. His chest heaved against her back, his body close, as he continued pumping, and pumping. The sound of his primal growls and moans, and the sound of big black bull balls slapping against her ass, filled her ears. Her cervix ached and cried out in a symphony of pleasure and pain as his cock mercilessly pushed against it. Another orgasm took her, her knees buckling. Her strong upper body quickly compensated, reaching for what it could to prevent her collapsing completely. Dre assisted her, not missing a beat as he continued violently taking her pussy. He was close. Very close. His cock was increasingly rigid and unyielding.

"Use that fucking white pussy! Give it to me!" she screamed.

He threw his head back as he came. A loud roar quickly followed in which his friends joined in with. His body shook as he continued pumping ropes of warm, sticky cum inside the white woman. He shoved her harder into the wall as he grinded out the last spurts of cum. His whole body felt warm in the afterglow of the orgasm. He grinned, mostly to himself, with satisfaction of doing his sacred duty as a black man. Another white woman successfully planted with his seed. Dre took a step back to separate himself from the woman. As he withdrew his cock, long, sticky strands of cum followed.

Brittany quickly dropped to her knees to polish and clean off the cock. It was covered with a prodigious amount of his and her cum. A tasty treat of what they created.

She stood up and fixed her dress, pulling at the hem to cover her ass and make herself decent. Her bodice, however, was tattered and tattered from demanding he tear her dress open. She did not care. After Dre fixed his own pants, she grabbed his hand and let him around to the front of the building. The men followed them cheering and slapping Dre on the back.

They walked across the small parking lot in the front of the store. It was shortly after midnight, and the corner store was a hive of activity. As the pair emerged from the darkness, every eye was on them. Mouths were agape at the tall black man being led by the white woman with a torn dress. Brit's massive tits jostled and bounced as they walked. She relished in the attention. Basked in the achievement of receiving the black seed. She did her best to keep the creampie inside her, but had no doubt some was leaking out as she walked.