Claire’s Diary Forbidden Desire

I shuttered through an orgasm mid-meal.

Once we entered the motel room, he became that lustful beast who fucked me so well. Rolling on my belly, he pushed my skirt over my hips and ripped my panties off my bottom. All the while, he tossed off his coat, tie, and shirt. Stripped out of his pants, pushed a tube of lube into my ass.

Shooting some of the gel into my ass. Shit-fire, the grease was cold and sent shivers through me. Shavon lubed his prick and put the big cockhead against my asshole.

"I've never done this," I said. Not quite as a protest, but with some pleading for mercy.

"Yeah," he said. Pulling my right wrist behind my back, he pressed me down into the mattress, his weight shifting, and the head of his cock pestered my asshole. "Your body doesn't belong to your husband or even to you anymore. No, baby girl, your hot, white body is mine, and baby girl, I gonna fuck you like I want."

Without waiting, Shavon stabbed into me, the head, and maybe three more inches. Back, thrusting forward more of his cock. Back again, and inside me, deep and hard. He drilled my ass for a painfully enjoyable ten minutes.

Pounding hard, using me for pleasure. Pain and pleasure mixed inside me. Emotion of wild, unexplainable feelings erupted deep inside me. Love, pleasure, and sensuality mixed and became one all-powerful aphrodisiac. My pussy crawled across the bedspread as he pounded into me.

The bristly fabric rubbed, squashed, and tweaked my little button. My cunny moistened. Flesh crawled with tiny ants, the hairs at the back of my neck tingled, and my legs shook as I came again and again.

Soon, he crawled off me, pulled me around, flipped me over, and hung my head off the side of the bed. He pushed his nasty cock at my mouth, banging against my lips. Saying nothing, he ordered me to open my mouth for him.

I obeyed. How could I not? I was on fire and needed to make him happy. The enormous cock stretched my lips, slid to the back of my throat, pulled back, shoved inside, deeper.

He held my head in and fucked my mouth.

With force, Shavon fucked my throat, using me like I was his personal whore. What the fuck did I care? I was a proud personal whore. He fucked my mouth, my throat, deep, repeatedly. The prickhead scraped deep, widening my throat. I traced my tongue around the shaft, sucked hard, and he bobbed my head fast.

A tremendous orgasm shook me, and my legs jerked. My belly quivered, and pussy turned to fire.

He groaned and came hot, and the spurts sprayed down my throat, filled my mouth, and some found their way from my mouth. His hands clenched in my hair, and he held my head, forcing me to his belly tighter as he lost his load.

Shavon lost his load. I swallowed all his hot, salty semen as he clutched me firmly against his crotch. He thrust his cock into my throat, draining his balls. He held me motionless as his prick pulsed. I drank as much as I could.

Once he emptied himself and his prick deflated, he pulled out and sat on the bed beside me.

"You're a great girl. Get me hard again, baby girl, and I'll give you a bonus. First, clean my prick."

With that, he grabbed my hair and guided me to his prick. I sucked his prick clean. I grabbed hold and licked the fleshy tip. Soon, he swelled again, and using my hair as a handle, he guided me up and down his shaft.

It grew fat, angry, and stiff. Scoping me off the bed, Shavon pinned me to the wall. Holding me in his arms, in a smooth motion, he pushed his cock into me. Holding me against the wall, he pounded into me.

"That's a nice little girl," he said. Jabbing his cock inside, "Yes, baby girl, you're right, good, little cracker whore."

Smoothing his face with kisses, running my white hands over his ebony skin, I fucked him back. He gave me his enormous black cock. Every inch. In and out, like a jackhammer. He threw me onto the bed. He tore my clothing off my body, ripping and shredding a blouse, bra, and skirt.

We fucked, I came, he came. After that, we fucked more. Three times, he mounted me like a stallion trying to impregnate a mare. We made love, wild, violent love. At around 11 p.m., it ended. He went to the car and fetched the outfit identical to the one he'd destroyed.

We sat in the parking lot, and he smoked a cigar. I supposed it was a victory stogie. As he neared the end of the cigar, our conversation took a turn. He threw the smoke out the window and turned to me.

"It's been fun. We'll do it again," Shavon said. "But not for a couple of months. Wife is suspicious. Gonna have to fuck her raw for a few weeks, maybe a month. After that, we can get back to it."

A shard of glass tore through my heart.

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. It's over till I tell you it ain't."

"No, I need you." I sounded desperate and pathetic.

He reached over and slapped my face.

"Don't be a clingy bitch."

Getting out of his car, I climbed into mine and returned to my banal existence with Bob.

Wednesday, September 20th

Dear Diary,

I said nothing about what I'd done to Bob all Tuesday. He was up when I got home. Of course, he wanted sex. When doesn't he? It lasted about three, maybe four minutes, almost a record for Bobby Boy. I rode his face as he ate me out and made him continue until I climaxed three times.

He fell asleep in no time. He could sleep through an earthquake. So, I took a second shower and got myself off with the shower head a few times. At breakfast, I told him I needed to talk to him after the kids were at school.

"But I'll be late for work."

Gazing at him, I am sure I had a harsh appearance. "Then you'll be late."

When I got back from taking the children to school, he had a suitcase packed and sat at the kitchen table crying. This wasn't the first time he'd thought I was throwing him out.

"Stop that fucking bawling."

His hand went to his face. With trembling fingers, Bob covered his eyes and wiped the tears from his face. But Bob's shoulder still shook a tad, and he kept his face concealed from me.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know why you're leaving me."

"I'm not leaving you. But you may leave me once I tell you what happened last Friday night."

"Never."

I pulled my chair beside him, took his head in my hands, and made him look at me.

"Until last Friday, I've never cheated on you."

"I know," he said. "Well, I'd hoped you hadn't, or maybe I wished you had. That was why I made such a deal about you working on the shipping dock on the swing shift. I know Shavon's a handsome man and terribly attractive to his female workers. But I don't care if you fuck him as long as you don't leave me."

"I'd never leave you. How did you know?"

"Honestly, I knew when I got lost inside you and couldn't feel your pussy. Also, you were too wet. I've never made you that wet. And the cum tasted different. I ... I wanted ... I hoped ... you know, you'd tell me about fucking Shavon."

"No, that's over for at least four weeks. But, sweetheart, if you know another black guy you think is hung, you could arrange something and watch. We could send the parents to their grandparents' house for the weekend and have him over this Saturday for the day."

"I'll make a deal with you," he said. "Tell me about fucking Shavon, and I'll set up a weekend with a golf buddy of mine."

"Is he black?"

"Yes, and incredibly well hung. I only know cause we took a leak at the same time one day, and I peeked."

"Deal," I said, launching into Friday night's events and following up with Monday night's foray.

As I told him about Friday, he got hard. I could see his tiny cock pushing up against his pants. When a small wet spot appeared, I touched it and rubbed over the glans through his khakis. His cum exploded, and a sizeable amount of his pants soaked with his discharge.

Gathering up what I could, I put my cum covered fingers to his mouth, and he cleaned them as I moved to Shavon and my soiree. Soon, he was rock hard again. I told him how hard he fucked me, all the while toying with his junk.

When, at last, I cupped his balls, Bob lost a new load.

After this, we went upstairs for him to eat me out. Once he'd cleaned up and was ready to leave for work, he picked up the phone and called his friend.

"Hey, buddy, how'd you like to fuck my wife?"

Needless to say, his friend loved the idea. I can't wait till Saturday.

Monday, September 25th

Dear Diary,

What a fucking great weekend. Bob is much better at being a cuck than a real man...