tagInterracial LoveHelping the Elderly Ch. 04

Helping the Elderly Ch. 04

byCockhole©

Special thanks to Literotica member Cuzimirish for help editing.

This is a continuation of the original story without any recaps. Read "Helping the Elderly" Chapters I-III to get the full story from the beginning.

This is an interracial story that involves a cheating wife, big cocks, a buxom blonde woman and a cuckold component. If one or more of these topics offends you, please find something else that suits you.


*****

"... I just got your message. I understand Wallace wants to see me?" Tracy did her best to sound uninterested, as she didn't want to appear too eager to meet with the aggressive black man and, honestly, she wasn't very eager despite her attraction to him.

"Hello there, sweetheart. Yeah, he called me earlier and asked if it would be all right. I told him that it would be okay with me, but I wasn't sure about you, or your schedule."

"Well, Harry. It's really up to you..."

Tracy didn't say it, but she was hoping Harry would understand that she wanted him to make the decision for her. She longed to be dominated, told what to do, given specific directions, followed by feedback detailing how she performed. She had fantasized about being totally submissive to Harry, but it did not appear that he had the desire to dominate her the way she was craving to be dominated.

"Okay, darlin', why don't you see Wallace tomorrow and give me a call at some point during the day to check up on me. I will give him your number and tell him he can call you tomorrow." Harry was tired and needed to get off the phone.

"Okay, Harry." Tracy put her phone down and sat up in bed. She was attracted to Wallace, but not in the same way that she was attracted to Harry. She was discovering that she found it more difficult to trust younger men like Wallace, and there was something about Harry's age that made her want to be dominated by him. She felt she could trust him, that he would be there for her and cherished her attention. She felt like a queen with Harry. With Wallace, she felt like a piece of meat, not that there was anything wrong with that every now and then...it was just different.

Jim was late getting into bed for some reason. He kissed her on the cheek as she lay there pretending to be asleep.

The next morning, after Jim left for work, Tracy was enjoying some coffee on the patio when Wallace called.

"Tracy? This is Wallace." Tracy didn't recognize his voice; it was deeper than she remembered.

"Hi Wallace, Harry said you might call," she responded.

"He told me it would be okay to call you...Is it okay?" His voice quivered.

"Yes, I guess so. What's on your mind?"

Tracy knew what he wanted, but was not on-board with this idea that just because Wallace was attracted to her, it meant that she had to have sex with him, and there really wasn't any other reason for him to see her.

"I thought you would like to spend some alone time with me...without any other guys around...to see what it felt like to have a real man." His voice was not playful, but aggressive. Tracy felt intimidated by him. She didn't like how she felt.

"Well, Wallace, I have had a real man. Harry is a real man, and he knows how to treat me like a lady." She defended Harry, who in her mind was more man than any woman could handle.

"A real man wouldn't whore you out like he did. I would never do you like that." Wallace was telling the truth. He felt Harry disrespected Tracy by having all those men basically have sex with her at one time.

"I could have said 'no,' Wallace, and I didn't have intercourse with them, but you should know that I am submissive to Harry. He and I have something special."

She felt it necessary to tell Wallace exactly how she felt about Harry so he wouldn't get the wrong idea.

"I realize that, and I respect that. Look, I was just wanting to see if you would want to hook up sometime this week, maybe get to know each other a little better."

Wallace finally said what he had intended to say, but after this conversation, he wasn't nearly as confident about his chances of fucking her as he was when he called.

Tracy responded, "I think that would be a great idea, Wallace. What would you like to do?"

She didn't sound enthusiastic, although she tried.

"Why don't I pick you up around three this afternoon and we can talk about it?" He asked.

"I think that would be fine, three o'clock then." Tracy gave Wallace her address and ended the call.

She called Harry and told him what they would be doing.

"Harry? Well, he called me. We are going out at three o'clock today. Are you sure this is okay?"

Tracy was hoping he would say "no." She didn't understand why it would be okay for her to spend time with Wallace if Harry liked her and wanted to keep her to himself.

This was also pretty far away from the original reason for her spending time with Harry to begin with. With Wallace, there was no need for massages or taking care of his needs as an elderly man, no medical treatment or feeling that she was doing good for someone.

It seemed to be all about sex.

"Darlin', let me call you back."

Tracy put the phone down. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to back out, and Harry had said nothing to convince her to go.

She continued weighing the consequences of her dilemma through her shower, her lunch, and even as she was selecting her clothes for her "date" with Wallace.

Tracy laid out some slim-fit jeans with a white patterned short-sleeved blouse with four-inch black heels. Nothing special, certainly nothing Harry would approve of.

She was dressing in her more conservative outfit when Harry called back.

"Sorry, darlin', I was sleeping pretty hard when you called. So he's picking you up in about twenty minutes? Are you excited?" Harry sounded enthusiastic.

"No. Not at all, Harry! I'm wearing jeans and I'm not going to fool around with him."

Tracy had talked herself out of this entire outing with Wallace. She had already taken this relationship with him too far in her opinion and the more she spoke with Wallace, the more she disliked him.

"Now listen here, Tracy. You will dress in something sexy. I want to see a picture of you with him to prove you were wearing something that would turn me on. That is what I like. That is what will help me with my circulation. You know that!"

"Yes, Harry." Tracy felt a rush from Harry telling her what to do. She grew wet.

"Now, I'm not going to tell you what to do with Wallace. That's up to you. Whether you fuck him or whatever, or not, doesn't matter to me. That's between you and him. All I care about is you showing that body off. That will turn me on. Even if I'm not with you, just thinking about you dressed like that is a turn on and it gets my blood pumping." Harry was pretty specific about his request.

"Okay, Harry. I'll call you when I get home." Tracy ended the call.

She exchanged her jeans for a mid-thigh length black skirt, and her white blouse for a thin, low-cut, pink top. She wore a smaller bra and had a lot of cleavage showing. She put some sexy underwear on, despite having decided she was not going to fool around with Wallace after all.

Wallace texted her at five after three.

-I'M HERE-

Tracy walked out to meet Wallace, who was driving a new, white pick-up.

He stayed in the car as she let herself into the passenger's side.

"Wow! Tracy! You look hot!"

Wallace spent a few moments looking her over, his spirits lifted after seeing how she dressed for him.

Tracy mustered a smile and thanked him.

"So, where are we going, Wallace?" she asked, trying not to sound indifferent about the whole "date."

"I thought I would show you my place and then take you out for a bite to eat. Is that alright?" Wallace looked over at Tracy, their eyes met, then his stare went straight to her breasts.

"I guess," as Tracy shrugged her shoulders and looked outside the window as they pulled out of her neighborhood.

She was already reviewing possible excuses to get out of having sex with him. Tracy could always rely on telling him she was having her period, but that seemed so lame. If she didn't want to have sex, she shouldn't have to. This isn't the way it is with Harry. Tracy seems to always want Harry.

"I live down by the West Fork Mall. You know where that is?"

"Yes. I don't go out that way much," she replied.

Wallace played what Tracy thought was Tina Marie, that singer from the eighties. She liked it and the music seemed to help her mood.

After listening to a few more songs from the same era, they pulled up to a gated townhome community. Tracy thought it was nice.

Wallace waited for the security gate to rise and parked under the carport area in front of what Tracy guessed was his townhouse.

Wallace opened the door to his home and let Tracy in. It was a spacious and well-furnished house. It looked like a man lived there, but it wasn't sloppy. Wallace kept a neat home.

Tracy sat down on the plush sofa and crossed her legs.

"I'm going to have a Jack and Coke. Would you like one as well?" Wallace stood rubbing his hands together.

"Yes, that sounds good!" Tracy needed a drink, even if it was only three-thirty in the afternoon.

Wallace came back with their drinks and sat to Tracy's right. He drank about half of his drink in one gulp, set his glass down on the coffee table, and turned his body to face Tracy.

"Oh, I like that shirt. It shows off your hot body. Did you wear that for me?" Wallace ran the back of his hand along her exposed arm. In an effort to flirt with her.

For all his strengths, he was definitely no charmer.

"Wallace, look. I'm here because I just wanted to be nice. I know we had some sexual contact yesterday, and it was hot, and you probably think we connected, but..."

Tracy tried her best to begin the conversation that would end in Wallace taking her home. Sooner, rather than later.

Wallace's expression changed. He frowned and shook his head slowly.

"No, no...I get it. You're a racist just like I thought." Wallace's eyes became wider and he moved away from her slightly.

Tracy's shoulders fell in resignation.

"Wallace." She slowly shook her head.

"See, that's why you acted like you did. You are a racist. That's cool, okay...I get it." He took another drink.

"That's ridiculous. How can you even sit there and say something so stupid like that, Wallace?"

"Oh? You're not racist? Prove it! Kiss me." Wallace moved his face closer to hers.

Tracy was having none of it. She was pissed. Pissed she was there. Pissed she didn't say "no" to him on the phone. Pissed that she had to participate in this ludicrous conversation.

She began to rant. "I see. You accuse me of being racist, then you think I will have to be sexual with you to prove that I'm not. Brilliant idea, Wallace. How old are you?" Tracy felt like going on, but was afraid to anger him.

She sat, folding her arms across her chest and staring straight ahead. Her tits were squeezed together and as a result were thrust out from her body. She looked sexy even when she was mad.

"You must think I'm a child." She added.

Wallace was growing more frustrated with every passing second. She was right. He had seen that done in a movie a few days ago and tried it on her yesterday. It didn't work then, and it wasn't working now. He felt embarrassed.

"Okay, so maybe you're not racist, I'll give you that, but you forget, Tracy, I happen to know you like black dick. And I also know that I have one of the biggest black dicks around."

Tracy sat, her face was now flush. She hated that her pussy became moist at her hearing him say 'black dick.' She glanced quickly over his way, then back at the wall in front of her.

She protested, "So what? It's not always about size, you know."

"Yeah, you may be right, but I also know that you're a size queen, Tracy. I saw your eyes on my dick yesterday."

Wallace sensed he was onto something, and he discovered a way out of his ridiculous effort to dare her into having sex with him.

Wallace stood up and slid the coffee table back, away from the couch.

He stood about two feet in front of Tracy and unzipped his pants, pulling his thick, black cock out and gripping it at its base near his pelvis. He lifted it gently and allowed it to bounce and sway before her face. He purposely moved it slowly to entice her. He figured she wouldn't be able to resist having his cock in her face.

Tracy shifted her eyes to gaze at the beautiful cock before her. She loved looking at it, but her desire to be free of this pushy man, overrode her want for the big, black, monster.

Wallace started stroking it.

"I know what you like to do with big, black dick, Tracy. You worship this. You love sucking on the big head and feeling it in your mouth."

Wallace kept up with his teasing. He was speaking to her in a deep voice as he massaged his dick.

"You want some of this, baby? Would you like some of this?"

Tracy was successfully ignoring him. She was no longer looking at him, and did not acknowledge his questions. But after a couple minutes of this, Wallace's penis grew more rigid and his approach became bolder.

He started touching her with his engorged cock.

Wallace gently, but firmly caressed Tracy's cheek with the head and upper shaft of his cock. He rubbed her jaw line, her cheek bone, her hair and ear, then ran his cock up across her forehead, along her brow line, and down the other side of her cheek, then repeated the entire process. He was softly rubbing her entire blushing, white face with his now hard-as-a-rock, jet-black dick.

Tracy couldn't believe he was being so forward and so vulgar. No one had ever done this to her before. Even during her blow job session with Harry and his friends yesterday, no one did this to her. She wanted to get up, slap his face and run out of the room, and she would have, if she wasn't so afraid of him.

Wallace was no longer concerned with convincing Tracy to have sex with him, he was getting off on what he was doing with his cock.

He continued holding his cock at its base and rubbing it over her cheeks. He now wiped it across her full, pouty lips. Separating them slightly, keeping the motions light and avoiding any forceful effort to penetrate her mouth. He could feel his heart pulse through veins of his penis onto his hand. He lifted it away from her beautiful face and tapped it against her nose playfully.

The entire scene was completely impromptu and unexpected, so much so that Wallace became unusually and unexpectedly aroused. He realized, whatever it was that he was doing to Tracy's face, was something that turned him on more than he could have imagined.

Tracy remained vigilant. She was determined not to give in. She pursed her lips together tightly and held out, despite wanting to slobber all over his cock and choke on it. She had the urge to inhale it until she held it firmly in the depths of her throat, but she would not give in. The entire event was making Tracy wet. She no longer felt disrespected and offended, but it appeared that Wallace had his own ideas about what he was doing to Tracy and seemed to be masturbating rather than taunting or persuading her to have sex with him.

Wallace was now, in his own twisted way, having sex with Tracy. He was stroking his gigantic cock in front of her, tapping, her, slapping her, rubbing it in her face, all while stroking it for his own, selfish pleasure. He moved his giant cock down to her tits and slapped her ample cleavage with it. Her breasts shook in response. He then inserted it between her tits from his position above her.

You could start to see a shiny trail of pre-cum streaking Tracy's face and chest.

He tightened his grip and Tracy noticed a change in his breathing. He then returned to her face and tapped her lips gently with the head of his dick. He maintained a consistent rhythm as he jacked his foot-long dick in front of Tracy. He rubbed the swollen head near her eye socket and the bridge of her nose...still slowly stroking it.

He reached over and grabbed an ice cube from his glass and used it to lubricate his hand. He started stroking his cock faster. His breathing became panting. His body was planted in front of its target. He spread his legs wider and stuck his hips out...he was coming already.

MOTHER FUCK!...GYAH!...FUCK!

Wallace blasted Tracy's eye lid, eyebrow, forehead, and left cheek with the first volley of semen. The hot stream hit her with such force that some splashed back onto his hand.

Tracy recoiled in shock. She couldn't believe he had cum so quickly by rubbing his penis all over her face the way he did. She was both repulsed and turned on at the same time.

The next rope of cum hit her lips and trickled down to her cleavage that was exposed above her crossed arms. He grunted and shook, then he leaned forward and wiped the rest of the hot, oozing cum into her long, blonde hair. As a final gesture of nastiness, he took a handful of her blonde hair and wrapped it around his cock and jacked the last few drops of cum into her hair. He pulled on her hair and wiped his cock clean with it, then stepped back.

Tracy's face looked like two or even three men had cum all over it. She had cum dripping down her cheek and onto the front of her shirt. She dared not open her left eye, lest it become filled with Wallace's semen. Her hair was all messed up at the side where he had wiped himself off onto her like some used rag. She sat dumbfounded. The entire scene would have been insanely sexy if it had been under different circumstances. Tracy was wet, but Wallace's behavior did not cause her to give in. It was like she was watching from the outside, as an observer.

Wallace pulled his pants up, put his now deflated cock away, and went into the other room. He returned with a towel and threw it at Tracy.

"I'm not going to beg you. I thought we connected, but I guess not. If you ever want to hook up, you let me know, but I'm not going to call you again," he said coldly.

Wallace didn't appear to be mad, just indifferent. Tracy was relieved.

She wiped herself off as best she could and the two had a quiet, and awkward ride home. Tracy felt like she dodged a bullet with Wallace. She realized that the reason he wanted to see her was to have sex. Having him masturbate on her was probably the easiest, fastest way to satisfy him.

The most important discovery she had made was that she gained some valuable insight into her own sexuality. She had developed a preference for older black men, not just black men in general. It wasn't just about the sex. She realized that, although she enjoyed Wallace's physical features, she needed the reassurance of an older man's attention. It was more genuine, more nurturing with Harry.

As she said farewell to Wallace when he dropped her back at home, she was more infatuated with Harry than she was when she had left earlier that afternoon. She couldn't wait to call him.

Tracy went inside to shower. She noticed Jim was home in the den on his laptop. She made a mental note to check his history at some point that night.

Her shower felt wonderful! Rinsing off Wallace was like moving on from making a bad decision and getting a clean "start-over." She felt as though she had betrayed Harry and wanted to make sure he was okay. She quickly finished her shower, put some yoga pants on with her zebra pumps, a tight, white t-shirt and called Harry. There was no answer.

Fearing Harry had a medical emergency, she got in her car and hastily drove to his house. She sped through two yellow lights and nearly hit a pedestrian trying to get to Harry's as quickly as possible.

Tracy let herself in.

"Harry?" She walked quickly from room-to-room, finally finding him in his guest room on the floor.

Harry was breathing, but seemed unresponsive.

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