Going Black Pt. 04: Phoebe Bridgers

2020 was not the year Phoebe Bridgers had been expecting. She hadn't gotten her hopes up, but the global pandemic followed by the national unrest had her spirits low. Still, though, she was managing to keep herself distracted. Finishing up her album, doing press, talking to fans. Currently, she was sitting at home, drinking wine in her robe, staring out at the darkening sky. She was maybe three or four...or five...glasses in. And she was feeling it.

Phoebe was ruminating on her coping mechanisms. She'd never considered herself especially slutty, but she knew she wasn't exactly virginal either. There was a correlation, she noticed, between her thoughts turning dark and her legs opening. Her parents having a huge, blow-out fight in front of her when she was 14 which was followed by her 16-year-old boyfriend popping her cherry in the back of his Chevy. Her failing an important test the next year and then finding a random guy to go down on at her friend's birthday party. Learning of her parents' divorce when she was 19 and then having sex with a woman for the first time. It was how she processed bad news.

This year had been a parade of bad news. And so she acted out in ways that seemed to surprise yet delight her fans. She had flashed her tits for a Rolling Stones article, and today she'd just posed for Playboy. Neither publication had asked or probably even expected nudity for their articles on her, but she had volunteered. The thought of complete strangers seeing her body made her warm. She'd even tried to get the Playboy photographer to take photos of her butthole but he'd said that the article didn't need that. She wasn't sure she agreed but she didn't fight him on it. It wasn't exactly a hill she was willing to die on.

The doorbell rang, jolting Phoebe out of her thoughts. She downed the glass of wine she was on and got up, only slightly wobbly. She took a deep breath and went to the door. Fixing her hair and checking her reflection in the mirror next to the entrance, she opened the door. The pizza guy was, somehow, exactly what she had been hoping for. Almost anyone would have done, but this was nice. A tall, handsome, young black man.

Phoebe greeted him and took the pizza, setting it on the door-side table. After putting it down, she looked at him and feigned a look of surprise. "Oh I'm sorry, I left my wallet in the other room. I'll be right back!" He smiled at her, a look of authentic patience on his face. "No problem, miss."

As she disappeared into her house, he turned around to admire the front of her house. It was a pretty area, secluded enough without being completely cut-off from society. He heard her footsteps behind him and turned back towards her. His jaw fell open as he looked at the completely naked Phoebe Bridgers walking his way. He'd found her to be beautiful, with her playful and bright eyes, her pale soft-looking hair; she gave off an aesthetic that he classified as "slutty witch". But he had not been expecting her small but plump tits. Her flat stomach and wide hips. Her bare pussy.

"Keep the change." She said softly, trying to keep cool as she handed him several President Jacksons. He nodded dumbly, not even making an attempt at eye contact. His gaze traveled up and down her body, finding new spots to focus on.

"Hello?"

His jaw still open, he finally looked up at her. "Oh, uh..."

Phoebe giggled, her heart beating like a drum. "What's your name?" She asked like she wasn't completely naked at her front door with hard nipples and a wet pussy talking to a stranger.

"Matt..."

"I'm Phoebe. I don't want to sound big-headed but have you heard of me? I'm a singer..."

He shook his head, his eyes again taking mental snapshots of her lithe body.

"That's totally okay. Can I ask you a favor?"

Matt nodded, only half paying attention.

"I've...well I've never been...with a black guy? So can you come inside for a bit and fuck my brains out?"

Now she had his full attention. This little white girl, apparently famous, wanted him to fuck her? How many times had he masturbated to this exact fantasy? But there was a major hang-up for him.

"Uh...I mean I would really...really love to do that. God, I really would. But I have a girlfriend. And I really care about her." Matt said.

Phoebe shrugged. She found herself surprised by how much she didn't care about this man's partner. It actually turned her on even more. "I understand, Matt. You're a good boyfriend."

Matt smiled a guilty smile and tried to find something to say, but Phoebe cut him off by leaning into him. She had her mouth right next to his ear, her body just barely an inch from his own, her breasts hovering near his chest. He could smell her shampoo, a subtle floral scent that made him want to wrap himself in her hair. She whispered to him. "If you follow me inside, you'll find me on my knees. I'll be waiting for you to put your big, hard black cock in my mouth. And then I'll be your toy."

She stepped back, and offered him a small smile as if she had just said something cute and flirty instead of offering up her throat to his dick. Turning around, she disappeared back into the house. And Matt watched her every step, eyes locked on her deceptively rounded ass. Matt desperately tried to think of his girlfriend. Of her body, her laugh, her eyes, how much he cared about her. But every image of her was interrupted by the image of this little white woman choking on his cock. He'd never been with a white woman or a woman as small as her; the thought of dominating her strained his cock.

Phoebe sat on her knees, her mouth open. She heard the door close and listened closely to see if she could hear any foot-steps. For a moment, she thought he had left. That he had done right by his partner and that her attempts at being a homewrecker had failed. But then he came around the corner, and she couldn't help the grin that grew across her face.

Matt looked down at her with raised eyebrows. "So you're a singer?"

She nodded.

"And you're famous?"

She hesitated but nodded again.

"Yet you're on your knees, naked, ready to suck some pizza guy's dick?"

She tried to answer, but he stopped her curtly. "Shut the fuck up."

Phoebe recoiled at the language and tone of his voice. She looked up at him surprised, her eyes wide.

"You suck a lot of dick in the industry? You like sucking dick?"

One more she hesitated, but still, she nodded. Her mouth had been a quick stop for more than a few cocks over the years.

"Show me." He unzipped his pants and let his dick fall forward. The size was not inconsiderable. The girth and length of it almost intimidated Phoebe. She steeled herself as he reached down and took a rough fistful of her hair. He pressed his dick against her lips, rubbed it against her mouth and face. His large, dark cock stood in contrast to her ghostly-white skin.

Matt's cock finally pushed into her mouth, resting heavily on her tongue. He kept eye contact with her as he pushed her head towards his waist, her jaw stretched wide to take him all the way in. His cock traveled further and further into her mouth, disappearing into the back of her throat, causing soft choking sounds to begin emitting from the slutty songwriter he had on her knees. Her eyes were watering but she kept eye contact. Her hands found his buttocks and grabbed them firmly as every bit of his meaty cock was now lodged in her throat. If one had been standing in the room with them, they'd have seen the faint outline of his cock in her neck.

He let go of her hair and Phoebe drew back, the dick sliding out of her mouth. She took several long, erratic breaths and tried to brace herself. She blinked in surprise when he turned slightly and then slapped her soundly across the cheek with his erection. He did it once more to her other cheek. He laughed, finding genuine amusement at treating this budding star as a whore. Phoebe felt distant shame, which turned into overt lust.

Matt pushed his cock back into her mouth, her hair again tangled in his fist. This time, however, he slammed her head forward. She gagged loudly, nearly throwing up, her nose pressed hard against his navel. He pulled her head back only to roughly push it back down. He kept this physical pace, harshly fucking Phoebe's throat. Matt laughed loudly, enjoying the sounds of both his nuts slapping her chin and her wet desperate gurgles.

After nearly a minute of getting violently fucked in the mouth, Matt let her go. She reeled back, trying hard not to throw up. Her chance to catch her breath was only a brief respite, however, as he yet again took a hard fistful of hair and jammed his cock back into her. He pressed her face even harder against his body and held it there, enjoying the feeling of her struggling to breathe. Her pale face had turned red, sweat dripping down her body, drool and spit running down her chin. Phoebe's head began to swim and she wondered to herself if this is how she died. If tomorrow's TMZ headline would read 'Indie darling Phoebe Bridgers found dead after choking to death on a Pizza Guy's big black dick'.

But after what felt like an eternity, Matt let her go. Phoebe fell forward, her scraggly hair hanging down in her face, her throat and jaw in pain. "Wow, I'm impressed." He said. "You really can suck cock."

Phoebe slowly looked up at him, tears running down her face. "Thank you." She said, smiling softly.

Matt walked around her and hunched down, grabbing the back of her neck and pushing her to the floor. "Now I'm gonna fuck you right here in the middle of your living room. Okay?"

"Okay." She said, slightly embarrassed at how much of a whimper it sounded like.

Phoebe Bridgers was not a stranger to being fucked from behind. But the size of his member was uncharted territory for her. It nudged at her opening, the head of his cock poking against her pussy. "You know, I always fantasized about Cardi B or Nicki Minaj, but I think I'm still going to enjoy fucking the shit of you." Matt said, right before he penetrated her.

She gasped, her eyes going wide. He continued to push into her, his cock stretching her out. She gripped the carpet as a low moan began to escape her. More and more of his cock impaled her. He kept one hand on her neck, the other hand grabbing a fistful of her ass, keeping her in place as he fucked himself into her.

"How...does it...feel?" He asked, punctuating each word by thrusting further into her.

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck" Was her delirious response.

She repeated it like a mantra as his skin finally pressed against hers, nearly 9 inches of black cock resting inside of her. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she came around him, her body shuddering, the feeling of ecstasy from feeling so absolutely filled overcoming her. He slapped her ass with great force, leaving a huge crimson handprint on her ass. Her ass wobbled slightly as she let out a small noise that sounded like a mewl.

"God, you have a tight cunt. Surprising for a little slut like you." Matt said as Phoebe only repeated her mantra under her breath.

Matt began to withdraw his cock from her at an agonizingly slow pace, relishing the feeling of her pussy gripping him. He grabbed her waist with both hands as he pulled out of her. And just as the head of his cock threatened to exit her, he thrust all the way back into her walls. Phoebe cursed loudly, her head resting on the floor, her arms sprawled out in front of her. She lay prone, ready for him to have his way with her.

Over and over again he hammered his cock into her, her body being jolted back and forth, her tits swinging and her ass shaking. She came several times, unaware of how loudly she was now moaning and crying out. The house, usually filled with the sound of her music, now only echoed her whorish howling. Matt reached down and yanked her head back all the way via her hair, wanting to hear her more clearly. He felt his climax nearing rapidly and had one thing left to do.

Without a warning, he pulled out of her, letting her go and causing her to crumple to the floor. She tried to turn her head to look at him and figure out what he was doing, but he grabbed her and flipped her over onto her back. He spread her legs almost painfully apart and then pushed them into the air, practically folding her in half. He speared her again with his cock, her face contorting into a mixture of discomfort and extreme pleasure.

Matt gripped her legs and fucked down into her with sharp, hard thrusts. "Look at me, Phoebe." It was not a request. She looked at him with her big brown eyes and bit her lip. "I want you to look into my eyes as I cum inside you."

Phoebe reached up and grabbed his face with her hands as they maintained intense eye contact. His deep thrusting began to slow and she felt him tense up. "Cum inside me, motherfucker." She said, an enigmatic ghost of a smile on her face. He groaned as he drove all the way inside her one more time and then erupted, his cock spurting out, cum blasting her cunt and spilling out onto her flesh.

She never broke eye contact as she came with him, her vision growing white-hot and her body almost convulsing. He collapsed on top of her, his face resting on her bare chest, his cock still buried to the hilt inside of her pussy. Neither of them moved, completely unable to at the moment.

Several minutes passed and Matt was at last able to return to his feet. Phoebe laid spread out on the floor, currently resembling a pornstar more than an acclaimed singer-songwriter. Her pussy was overflowing with cum, her face wet with sweat and saliva, her body humming with the wonderful pain of getting the absolute hell fucked out of you.

Matt disappeared to her guest bathroom and returned shortly after dressed and cleaned up. Phoebe still laid on the floor, her eyes closed and her mouth open in a grin. "Thank you, Matt. That was fun."

He shrugged, starting to take in how strange this entire situation was. "If you don't mind me asking, how often do you...uh...'order pizza'...?"

Phoebe laughed and looked at him. "Not that often. Just when I'm...extra hungry..."

"Can I have a slice?"

"What?

Matt stood over her and repeated his question.

"Like, of my pizza? Uh, yeah. I guess."

"Cool. Well. Uh. Bye?"

"Goodbye, Matt. Oh, and can you sign the NDA right by the door? I'd rather this didn't get out."

From the floor, Phoebe watched him sign the document and leave. She began to hum quietly to herself, lyrics forming in her head. A quiet, wandering folk song about a pizza guy and his meaty black cock dicking her the fuck down. It probably wouldn't make the album.