Cuculiformes 02 Pt. 02

Maybe she was exaggerating or maybe she had just never been fucked this hard and determined by someone before. And maybe her requests to "fuck me harder" were what she needed the most right now, it was certainly what he wanted to hear from her. His jaw was tight and firm as he concentrated on working her body, and fortunately for her, he was a man gifted with a mighty weapon, and he knew how to use it.

She watched him intently above: the sweat beading on his skin; his big, toothy grin; his dark eyes that never left hers. He was grunting a series of mindless statements, the cliched ones that annoyed her normally, but right now, being called a "tight, white slut for black cock" fit with the sensations he was bringing out in her body.

And on top of that, she knew she held the keys to his control. Her body was already ninety nine percent there, in a place she didn't want to let go of, but still, she needed that last one percent still denied to her. All she had to do was give Rolley the words his ego most needed to hear.

"Cum in me, sexy."

No black in white, dom in sub, master in slave, or daddy in baby girl. Nothing but a woman asking a man for his half of the key of life. But to Rolley it was all those things, and more. To him it was the culmination of his alpha male ego, the final release of his male control of a woman's fertility. Within that split second, the whole purpose of his life crystalized into the one final act she asked for.

"Oh, baby," and he leaned forward and kissed her, their mouths intimately meshed together while his hips continued to undulate against her thighs. His pace increased, his firm hold on her legs tightened, and then his eyes went vacant with lust as they bored into her. He took full control of her body, the way he believed a black man had full right to control a white woman's body. And that was all he needed to get him there: not her hot body; nor the effect he was having on her own pleasure; nor the fact that she had chosen him to be with. He was instead lost in his own disconnected perception of how his semen was making amends for centuries ago injustice, in a past he had no connection to.

His body exploded in her, the most intense orgasm he'd ever had, heightened by the feeling of victory he had. Elated, he used all the crude words he had at his disposal to grunt out his thoughts in time with the eruption of his DNA into her body. And then he was abruptly spent, straightening up with heaving breaths, he knelt there against her like a king surveying his kingdom. She was still shivering in her own dream world, her hand at the frothy junction of their bodies, wildly stimulating her body through her own highs.

Rolley watched her play, her lips swollen and pink around his dark intrusion, both coated in their intermixed boy and girl cum. He enjoyed the sight, and the fact she continued to bring herself off while she looked back at him. He couldn't stop grinning, she was exactly the kind of woman he was always looking for: hot; white; and cumming on the end of his cock.

He dropped her legs down, gave himself a few last stabs into her body, and then pulled out completely. Her body oozed the scent of wet sex, and the ongoing play of her fingers only served for her open pussy to continue to fill the air with it. She wasn't quite there herself, Rolley hadn't pushed her over that last one percent, so she settled on completing what he could not.

Brooke closed her eyes, concentrating solely on the touches of her own fingers, they held the key to her final rapture. One finger slipped inside her cum soaked pussy, heading for one of the sweet spots she knew would tip her over the edge. She lost focus on Rolley, he had already faded out of her thoughts now that his part was over. Instead she drifted into rapture, her mind lost in the feelings of pure sensation, floating on a cloud of internal ecstasy that centred on nothing but her own senses, from the sweet smell of caramel and cum, the heat rippling between her legs, and the smooth rubbing of fingertips on her clit and sweet spot.

She kept herself there, at almost one hundred percent, but not tipping over to completion. She hungered for that smell, she wanted to inhale it all like a filling meal, but each breath only served to remind her how fleeting it was, and how much each new breath recharged the sensation. Oblivious to the world outside her skin, she arched her back and spread her thighs in response to another touch in just the right place, groaning out her husband's name. She would see him soon enough, and share with him her new found sexual appetite.

The words she was saying were not what the alpha male next to her wanted to hear. In fact, they were uncomfortable. He was kneeling between her outstretched thighs, her pussy drenched in his cum, and yet she was moaning another man's name while she orgasmed in front of him. That's not how it worked, and it served to only make his already soft cock wilt into nothing. Angered, he knee walked backwards off her bed, slipping on his clothes while she remained oblivious to his every move, lost in her own soft whimpers and the recurring mention of that name.

Rolley walked out, arguing internally that he was never coming back because she'd used him again. And if he'd stopped to say so to her, she would have told him the obvious. He was the one hopelessly addicted to her, not the other way around, and he would be back, as sure as day follows night. His thoughts would return to her body and how much he was attracted to it, and lust would drive him back to this room, to the temptations she offered.

With Rolley gone, and Brooke hovering on the edge of her orgasms for ages, the true alpha male returned to her bed. Huddled in between her outstretched legs, he fed on the mess the two humans made, and then he climbed aboard his breeder to take care of his growing children, taking her to the places that her body craved, ones that no other could, far beyond the last one percent she craved.

Chapter 12

Rolley walked straight into her quarters without asking, boldly going straight to the bed. Thrusting the curtain aside, he froze in place, momentarily stunned by the scene.

There she knelt on the bed totally naked, her ass high in the air, knees apart, with her head resting on the mattress looking back at him. Her hands held her cheeks apart to make it clear what she wanted. The lights were already on low, her intent unmissable. Dropping his boxers with a grin, he knelt on the bed behind her, feeding her pussy with all the meat he had to give.

"Oh, yes," she sighed. "Oh, yes."

"You're addicted to black cock now, Brooke, nothing will ever satisfy you," he stated in defiance of the fact that the last time he saw her, she was moaning her husband's name.

He used her hard and rough, pouring all his macho talk over her, but she ignored it all and only responded to the physical invasion of her body, giving him gentle pointers to "just there", "harder", "slow, slow", and everything else her body was craving to scratch her burning sexual itch.

Eventually his ego gave up the banter and concentrated solely on her directions, which would then satisfy his needs. With hands locked firmly around her waist, he banged her hard, pulling her back into every stroke. The only sounds now were the slap of his abdomen against her ass, his balls against her thighs, and their duet of grunts. He lost himself in the sight of her broad ass bouncing and shaking, with his long cock skewering her over and over.

Entranced, he pulled out and stopped, nestling his dark head in the cupped cradle of her lips. His whole length was smeared with white froth from her excitement, as was the flushed, pink skin between her pussy and her asshole. He briefly lost himself in thoughts that he finally had the prime white pussy he deserved, when Brooke decided she could wait no more. He watched his blunt head disappear back inside her body, then the whole crown, and the clasping, wet warmth as she pushed herself back all the way against him until he was fully embedded. Then she slowly pulled off again, her lips and pussy clinging tightly, refusing to let him go, until his cock bounced free, connected only to her body by two white strings of girl cum.

She whimpered and shuddered, which only made him think of her moaning her husband's name the night before.

"Fuck you, Brooke," he spat at her, but she only gave an orgasmic sigh in reply.

"Oh, yes please, more," which only served to ignore his dominance. He took her hips forcefully and shoved her back onto his cock, dragging a startled groan from her, and shooting a heated, erotic sensation down his cock.

"Fuck you, Brooke," he spat at her again, but again she took no notice of his tone and only throatily moaned her approval of his rough tempo.

It took less than a minute of hard bouncing before he could hold out no longer and let loose streams of cum into her body, restoring his ego that once again he was the man claiming her body. With his body quickly wilting, he had no more need to be there, his pleasure was done. He slapped her ass, not too hard nor too soft, but enough to make her jump and her pussy to gush a quick squirt of cum.

"Well, slut. Your man is done."

She collapsed onto her side with a dull thud, and then rolled onto her back, her legs spread wide. One hand shot between her legs, her fingers teasing her clit while she looked at him.

"Come back tomorrow night," she said flatly. Not a question or a command, but a basic statement that he would be back, with the implied acknowledgement that she would be there too. He moved around beside her and lightly touched her flushed face.

"Yes, my queen," and then he left as though dismissed. By the time he was out of her quarters he was kicking himself, realizing his every effort to make her his willing white slut had failed, and he had instead called her his queen as though she was in charge. He'd come back tomorrow and fuck the shit out of her, and keep on doing it until she knew he was the man in charge.

**********

Brooke sat in the mess hall sipping her tea. Her breakfast plate was already empty, but she felt like just another couple bites wouldn't go astray. The room was abuzz with general chatter, most of which washed over her without much interest. The chair opposite pulled back, and she looked up to see her new breakfast companion - it was Rolley.

He sat down, sliding his plate of pancakes topped with cream and chocolate sauce tantalizingly close in front of her. With a grin, she grabbed her fork and helped herself.

"Tastes good," she nodded, savouring the sweetness.

"A little chocolate on cream always goes down well," he said, his eyes locking onto hers for just a little too long to let the subtle undercurrent sink in.

"True, but I am a vanilla girl," she smirked. He broke into a chuckle, dabbing at his plate. She picked up her cup with both hands and took a sip. "I prefer my tea black though." With that she turned her eyes away and scanned the other people in the room, doing her best not to engage his immediate attention, the cup hiding her smile. No one seemed to be paying their banter any attention, after all, why should they?

Putting her cup down, she took another forkful from his plate and swallowed the creamy mixture down.

"Hey, you're not going to leave me any."

"I'm sure you'll get your share," she beamed at him, leaving him in no doubt what share he was getting. With a nudge, he pushed the plate towards her, watching mesmerized as she seductively licked her fork clean.

**********

"Fuck, babe, fuck, babe," Rolley chanted over and over. Brooke's hips were like hot putty in his hands, her ass cheeks trembling as he slammed into her from behind. His cock was smeared with their combined cum, his chocolate covered in her cream a fair exchange for the cream and chocolate breakfast of his that she'd consumed on her own.

Despite having blown his load he was powering on, determined to wear her down until she was squirming in orgasm herself, but no matter how hard he tried to take her where she wanted, her release seemed beyond his skill. Every grunt, every sigh, every whimper she gave, only served to mock his lack of skill.

He stopped and forcibly rolled her over onto her back, Brooke's legs naturally falling wide open ready to receive him. She was smiling with a come fuck me look, her hands already holding herself open in readiness. Instantly he was on top, filling the void in her body, his hands on each side of her head while they stared deeply into each other's eyes.

Her hairless body was just starting to regrow a short stubble across her abdomen, which was enough to start tickling where his rubbing body was pressed hard against hers. They held each other's stare as he worked her body, her legs wrapped around his to hang on, her hands clutching at his waist as her breathing sharpened. She encouraged him with a chorus of "Fuck me" over and over, all the while casting her spell with her eyes, luring him into greater effort.

He bored into her, the bed resisting their frenetic energy with rapid creaks. Her face flushed with concentration, he was taking her near where she needed to be, her body arching under him, their visual contact breaking as she dropped her head backwards with a throaty groan. At last the fires in her body exploded, flaming along every cell that touched his hot body. Brooke surrendered, letting her nerves go, focusing only on the sensations washing over her.

Rolley the predator felt the power he held over her body, and his control of her orgasmic release. She was flowering with sexual heat, her "Fuck me" groans degenerating into demands for attention, and he was only too happy oblige. He collapsed onto her writhing body, their sweat coated bodies sliding together, the added contact supercharging Brooke's senses. Choking her breath off, Brooke came on his deeply embedded cock, her thighs wrapping tightly against his hips, her legs enmeshed in his. And to add to the bonus her body craved, Rolley's body gave up his resistance, cumming deeply in her hungry pussy while she was still riding her own orgasm train.

With his own energy and sexual desire spent, Rolley hung on as she continued to fire under him, her arms and legs enveloping him with delicious sensation. She was still floating somewhere outside of her body, high on the smell of burnt caramel, and the wet, burning sensations on her skin, and inside her body. She was still whispering "Fuck me" with impassioned pleas, even though she was coming down from her highs and sensing he had nothing left for her.

With Rolley wilted on her body, but still rock hard inside it, she pushed him off onto his back while she sat up still drawing in deep breaths. The air was heavy with the smell of sexual exertion, with an undercurrent of sweet vanilla and stale sweat from her sheets. The wet patch underneath her was growing as Rolley's cum streamed from her open pussy, and as much as it would normally gross her out, in this instant it made her feel whole. Her fingers toyed with her mess, smearing it back over her clit, dragging it over her flared, glowing pink lips.

She looked across at him, his still raging cock standing at attention smothered in shiny wetness. He was spent, there was nothing more he was going to do for her tonight. Falling back in disappointment, she stared up at the bright ceiling.

"Brooke, lights, out," she intoned, and the room dipped into darkness except for the faint green edge lighting from all the charging stations. Her breathing had mostly returned, but her fingers were still at play between her open legs, a foretaste that her night was still young. "See you tomorrow night?" she questioned the still form next to her.

Rolley grunted a reply, and strained to push himself up. In a daze he searched for his clothes scattered around her bed, throwing his boxers on without managing to fall over, but fitting the t-shirt over his head was beyond his current skill level, so he threw it over one shoulder and looked down at her sprawled form on the dark bed, her hands wedged between her legs still at play.

"You white girls are such fucking sluts," he murmured, and then laughed to himself, "I love it." On the bed Brooke completely failed to register his conversation, or even that he had gone.

********** José walked into Brooke's lab, supposedly on the pretext of seeing how her research was going, but he knew was really there to see her body. Since he'd seen her at the lecture, he'd not quite been able to put her out of his mind, neither the thought that she and Rolley could be an item, nor her gorgeous, curvy body. Maybe she was going to be dressed in a plain, shapeless, black outfit, or in something that was going to show off the curves of her body.

She sat on a high stool, hunched over a scanner viewing whatever it was that the science types did with scanners. He wasn't all that sure what they did, but it was important enough they were left alone most of the time to do whatever it was. She was mumbling to herself, occasionally tapping away on her keyboard, focused on her job. She still hadn't noticed he was leaning on the door jam, watching her intently, until he coughed and walked noisily in.

She glanced over her shoulder with a quick stare, before turning back to the scanner and a row of glass dishes. "Hey Cap, didn't hear you coming." He walked over next to her, leaning on the workbench and taking in the view. Sadly her outfit was a baggy, dark blue, long shirt that hung shapeless as she leant forward over the scanner. No hint of her body whatsoever except that the contours of bra straps were missing, and he couldn't discern a pantyline. Still, none of that clarified anything, and he felt a bit disappointed the visit was a complete no show.

Instead, he focused on what she was doing. "How's it going?"

She looked at him with a glowing smile, and with that look, he was captivated. There was something in the air around her, like a glow that enhanced her dishevelled hair enough to look sultry and intoxicating, and yet still very plain and everyday. She was saying something technical, which he wasn't quite following. It seemed important and that he should be taking particular note, but the lure of her eyes completely overrode any thinking. He realized his eyes had glazed over, because all he could see was the dark circle around her irises, and how deeply their gray depths reminded him of a rolling ocean. Nothing else in the world seemed to matter.

"So anyway..." she trailed off, turning back to the scanner. "That's what I'm thinking."

The spell broken, José clawed back his senses. "Well, I better have a look myself," as if doing that was going to do anything practical, but at least it might look like he heard whatever she might have said. She leant back a little while he leant forward over the scanner to observe the sample. Staring at whatever it was he was looking at, he nodded appreciatively and murmured.

And then he noticed it, an earthy, natural smell he'd not smelt since...wait, was that? No, surely it wasn't, but it kind of was? He stayed staring down the scanner, trying to get a better handle on the smell. He leant back a little nearer to her, and then it was unmistakable. She smelt of stale sex.

He held his thoughts a second and blushed. Brooke was getting fucked, and very recently at that. Suddenly the hardness in his pants was uncomfortable and distracting.

"Well, well. That is very interesting. Very interesting indeed," he said, trying to collect himself. Suddenly he was lost looking into her eyes again, and the conversation stopped just a little too long until he caught himself. "I'll be back tomorrow for an update, get your notes together and we'll go through them in more detail," and then he was gone, his thoughts fixated on Brooke getting fucked.