Kat Gets The Cream

It had been one of those days. A day when being at work was a chore and the windows of their building only served as a punishment, reminding them of just how glorious a day it was.

If it wasn't for the frustration of being stuck at work Katrina might have been even more bored than she already was. Her job was not inspiring or invigorating. It really only occupied a very small part of her consciousness. She could perform it on auto-pilot while her imagination took her to other places.

Katrina glanced at the clock. She knew some people would STRONGLY disapprove of what she had been doing. It was fortunate that there was little or no risk because HR certainly would take a dim view. She could remember the first time she had thought of it. It had got into her mind and then had refused to go away. She'd agonised about it the first time but with each repetition it had become easier and easier.

Also with each repetition there had been more and more response. In a rather boring white-bread world such a response could be very welcome and very intoxicating. It could also become very tempting, addictive some would say.

She glanced at the clock again. At last - it was time. Katrina happily discarded all thoughts of her current assignment as she headed for the bathroom. At first this had been a rather spur-of-the-moment thing but now she liked to make appropriate preparations.

She glanced in the mirror. She wondered sometimes if any of her co-workers noticed that little gleam in her eye, that sense of suppressed excitement. It should have stuck out in their work-place like a lighthouse beam on a dark night! She could see it and it reminded her of just why she did this, why she had come to look forward to doing this so much.

Katrina carefully locked the door and then began to move fast. It was so much easier at home but so much more fun to do it here. She undid her white pin-striped blouse and wigged herself half the way out of her tight skirt. Then she checked that her phone was on silent mode before taking four pics of herself. Practise meant that she automatically knew the angle to hold the phone at. Just the right angle to catch as much of herself as she could without revealing any hint as to her real identity.

She checked the images and rapidly discarded three. The fourth was just exactly what her followers would love to see. Her peaches-and-cream skin seemed to blaze out against the dull grey of the work rest-room. Not that her followers would be looking at the decor. She had selected her bra carefully, a little white lacy number that kept things under control without hiding much. It certainly did absolutely nothing to hide her cleavage and she knew how her followers would love that.

She smiled to herself. She really had caught the angle just right. If any of her followers could tear their eyes away from that tempting cleavage then there were more treats for the observant. She had chosen to wear a black lacy thong for just this reason. It meant that he camera could catch, between her thong and her pushed-down black and white skirt, the twin mounds of her butt. She knew that lots of her followers would particularly enjoy that! Finally, just in view was one of her feet, its toe-nails visible and painted scarlet.

She didn't have much time but Katrina just had to glance at the picture once more before sending it off to her account. It was easy as a woman to lose confidence. Marriage and domestic life, the passing years, a job that provided a pay-check but little or nothing by way of flair or fulfilment. It would be easy to become just a house-wife, just an office-worker and to forget that first of all things you were a woman, a lively desirable sexy woman. Now she knew that she would never forget that. By the time she left work there would have been plenty of comments on that pic - comments from men who were in no doubt just what a hot property she was.

Katrina smiled again before carefully adjusting her blouse and skirt. She checked herself in the mirror. All was well - she could go back out there and no-one would be the wiser.

It had once seemed crazy that her co-workers didn't notice immediately that there was something different about her. That she suddenly felt alive, that she seemed to feel the blood pumping through her body, that she was - lets be honest here - 'excited.' However, then as now, she strode past them and no-one noticed a thing.

It was her little secret - well if you didn't include her thousands of followers. She had begun posting her pics almost as a dare to herself. A little naughty excitement. She had pondered over what to call herself and had finally settled on 'Katrina the Hotwife.' Because she had been married and she was hot and, at least so far as this part of her life was concerned, she chose to be called Katrina. Whether that was on her birth certificate or not was for her to know and no-one else to find out for sure. While she was playing and being 'naughty' - which seemed to be an ever increasing amount of her time - she was Katrina.

She wasn't sure where she had heard that term 'hotwife' but it had been a good pick. It must have featured on some searches because suddenly she started to acquire followers. Just a few at first but then as they had excitedly retweeted her posts the number had grown into the thousands and then even into the tens of thousands.

The last part of the day dragged by but this time not because Katrina was bored. She was buzzing with anticipation and curiosity to see if that pic had got any responses. But that only made the minute-hand on the clock seem to drag its way round even slower. Finally - finally - it reached the end of her working day and Katrina emerged into the hot afternoon sun. The heat was coming back off the sidewalks and she was excited to follow her usual routine after posting. She got into her vehicle and turned on the engine.

* * * * *

Katrina took her seat outside the cafe and sipped her iced drink. It tasted good, refreshing. Here she could sit and watch the city go by. Thousands of people rushing hither and thither, each engrossed in their own doings and their own lives. In the city you could be surrounded by people and yet be anonymous. Well, almost. If you looked like Katrina - even buttoned-up in her office outfit - you were bound to draw a few appreciative glances. Unfortunately not usually from the sort of men that attracted Katrina - but there were exceptions.

Mostly it was almost furtive glances from middle-aged office-workers. No thank-you. Sometimes it wasn't so furtive. Men who thought they were God's gift staring at her curves or even trying to hit on her. Again - no thanks. She'd had a husband to take care of that.

Except there were certain itches that her husband just hadn't been able to scratch. Not because of how he was but because of who he was. Men weren't the only ones who had their fantasies, their illicit desires.

Katrina thought back to that morning. She'd noticed HIM checking her out alright. He had been very easy on the eye. Of course there'd been nothing she could do about it except put a little extra wiggle into her walk. She hadn't had to glance back to know that his eyes were fixed on her butt just so long as he could still see her. She liked the idea of that - maybe he'd tell his friends about the fly white piece of tail he'd seen that morning. She hoped so - she liked the idea of that even more

It did raise the question of what Katrina would have done if he hadn't been so busy unloading that truck. What if he'd been taking a break and had been able to approach her. Would she have kept walking or would she have stopped and...

Well that was the thing wasn't it. Not so long ago Katrina would have known the answer to that. Now she wasn't so sure. Or was she just telling herself that? Trying to avoid the fact that her answer to the question had changed over the last few months as Katrina the Hotwife had become more and more of her life.

Katrina shook that thought into the back of her mind. Now she finally had the opportunity to check her phone. She did so, found her notifications and smiled. Yes indeed, her followers did seem to have appreciated that picture. Lots of compliments and a few naughty suggestions.

Two particularly caught her attention. 'Snow Bunny Alert' had re-tweeted her picture with a simple addition. 'Tell me this hot piece ain't made for the BBC.' His account had lots of followers and her finger flicked again and again on the screen, seeing response after response. They seemed to like that idea almost as much as Katrina did!

The other response caused her breath to catch in her throat. He was a follower who seemed to live in Europe, but he was certainly American, certainly African-American to judge by his pictures and postings.

'All ready for collection.'

That was all it said but it had Katrina's pulse racing. She checked the time and knew she could make it there before they closed. That was good because she didn't want to wait.

* * * * *

She hadn't even known the system existed until her follower had suggested it. He had made some purchases for her and a certain global marketing site had delivered them to the address marked on the special account she had set up at his suggestion.

She had selected a post office that was in the city and was certainly not her local one. Another marvel of modern life. She really didn't have to go far out of her suburb to become almost totally anonymous.

Now she opened the parcel. An item of clothing and a piece of jewellery. Nothing amazing but their symbolism was powerful and intoxicatingly attractive to Katrina. She knew what she wanted to do and in that moment she never even considered not following her desires.

It fortunately fitted in with her schedule, she needed to fetch some groceries and the nearby big store was as good as any other. She carefully put her new possessions into a bag and found her list of requirements. Then she walked into the store and found a sign for the ladies' rooms.

For the second time that day Katrina found herself adjusting her clothing. Her office blouse was soon in the bag and, after a moment's hesitation, her bra was too. She knew instinctively that her new shirt would look best with nothing worn underneath.

She tied her long blonde hair back into a pony-tail and then pulled on the t-shirt. It fitted well but it also fitted tight. There was no hiding her curves in this shirt and, for those in the know, no hiding her desires. The shirt was basically black and white but with a pattern made up of hundreds of small repetitions of an identical design. The black symbol from a suit of paying cards with a white 'Q' marked out inside it. The 'QOS' logo that symbolised a 'Queen of Spades', a woman who preferred Black men.

The shirt wasn't TOO blatant. You had to look carefully and you had to know what the symbol meant. She knew most male attention would be distracted by the plunging neck-line and the generous cleavage generously displayed s a result. Katrina had to stifle a little giggle. The shirt didn't hide much. She quickly took off her beaded necklace and replaced it with the new one. A simple fine gold chain with that same 'QOS' symbol in enamel resting just above her cleavage.

Katrina hesitated. She didn't have any false modesty about this. She was proud of her figure, enjoyed the effect her curves could have on a man. She knew how hot she was looking as she studied herself in the mirror. On the other hand to go out in public wearing these - that would send a message for sure. She felt her heart beating and knew even without looking that her hard nipples would be visible through the material of the shirt.

She took one last deep breath and then walked out into the store. She collected a trolley and put her phone on the front of it, set to record video. Well, after all - why not. At first she was thrilled with excitement but it seemed that the anonymity of the city was still cloaking her. No-one seemed to notice and soon she was going about her daily business collecting the items on her list.

It certainly added a certain something to the daily routine. The first time she saw an African-American man she almost turned round and ran away but that would have defeated the object wouldn't it. She saw him glance at her and his eyes run up and down her body. There was no doubt he liked what he saw but did he notice the 'QOS'? It was hard to tell and since he had his wife and two young ones with him he could hardly have told her if her had!

She completed her shopping and went through the automatic check-out. It had been fun, daring and exciting. A real antidote to the boredom of her working day and she knew her followers would love the clip that she would post. She was still thinking about that as she unpacked her trolley into her vehicle.

"I'm liking that shirt."

The voice was rich and dark and deep and it came from behind her. Katrina felt herself jump what seemed to be a mile.

She turned a saw a man of about 35, tall and well-built. Very dark-skinned and dressed like what he was, a hard working man on his way home.

She must have looked as startled as she felt because the man took a half step back and help up both hands to show his palms. "No offense baby - but you might not know what that shirt means..."

It was the moment of truth, the moment of destiny. Katrina swallowed and moistened her lip with her tongue. "I know what it means. It's just the first time I'm wearing it."

He put his hands down and smiled. "Maybe you're wearing it for a dare?"

"No," she said locking her eyes onto his beautiful deep brown ones, "I'm not wearing it for a dare. I'm wearing it because it's who I am or who I want to be." She 'd thought about it so much that now the words seemed to form and be spoken before she had even realised it.

His smile broadened a little more. "Care to prove it - because that fine fucking body of yours was made for the Black man's pleasure." The way his words echoed the comment earlier. It all seemed to Katrina to be coming together, to be irresistable.

There was a challenge in his eyes now. He'd seen her talk the talk and it was time to see if she was just talk or if she was the real deal. Katrina knew how long she'd been anticipating this moment, how long she had been hoping that it would happen. She moved forward and let her white fingers cup the bulge in the front of the man's pants. She felt it, firm and reassuringly large. "I needed to check that you have what it takes," she smiled.

"...and now you know." He pressed a button to unlock his vehicle and opened a door. "Take a seat and you can show if you've earned the right to wear that shirt."

Things were moving fast and Katrina felt the excitement surging through every inch of her body. She moved forward and felt his hand move onto her butt and guide her onwards. That felt like a claim of ownership and it felt good.

Once she was beyond him he moved behind her and soon she was in a small triangle, its sides made up of his vehicle, the open door and his body. She sensed the reason. Parking lots like this one mostly had cameras nowadays. In this position the door and his body would block out what was happening That was smooth and she wondered if he had done this before.

"Wait on," he said as she reached for his belt. "I need to see those titties." He pushed up her shirt and bared her breasts, his hands then moving to fondle her while his thumbs teased her nipples.

"Yeah - even better than advertised," Katrina half-heard as she completed undoing his belt and opening the front of his pants. She hadn't waited despite what the man had said. She'd been waiting long enough for this moment. She wanted to see him and feel him and taste him. She wanted him to prove how hot he found her in the most blatant way - she wanted his cum.

His bulge was even more obvious in his shorts but Katrina quickly eased them out of the way. "No false advertising here either," she murmured as she gave his cock one gentle stroke of her hand. He had a nice thick seven inches and he'd already been ready for her. The touch of her hand completed the job and he was fully hard for her. "It's beautiful," she said and then dropped her mouth down onto the broad dark head of his cock.

"Oh yeah," she heard his words almost like a moan. She knew already that he hadn't been fronting. His desire for her was very obvious - given the chance he'd lay her down on these seats and fuck her, send her home with a pussy full of his potent seed. She felt the heat flowing through her body at the thought, her arousal at the possibility. She felt more alive, more 'switched on' than she had done in a long time and she wanted to reward this man for it.

"Oh yeah white girl you got some skills." Oh she hadn't even started yet! She cupped his heavy Black balls in her hand and licked up and down his hard shaft, making sure to tease every sensitive part of him. Then she was back to sucking, taking as much of him as she could, still teasing him with her tongue. "Damn," he said, "you look all white-bread but you can bop like a hoodrat on heat."

She paused and smiled at him, running her hand up and down his shaft slick with her saliva. "That good?"

"Oh that's very good - now seal the deal."

They couldn't be here much longer. Being so public their encounter had to be quick. She used her hands and mouth on that hard Black cock wishing she had more time to savour its taste and warmth and power. She worked him with her tongue as she sucked and felt his cock twitch. Then his hands were on her head holding her in position as she worked and she knew that it wouldn't be long.

"Fuck yeah." He gave a low growl of triumph as he came, shooting three healthy spurts of his warm cum into her mouth. She tasted him and savoured him - felt another wave of excitement pass through her body. She knew what she had to do next.

He leaned back as his cock began to lost its hardness. She reached a hand forward to signal him to wait. Then she opened her mouth to show him his cum pooled in her mouth. Satisfied that he had seen it Katrina closed her mouth and swallowed before opening up again to show him her mouth was now empty.

"Fuck but you're a hot little bitch." Katrina supposed that society dictated that she feel offended by that but she knew to take it for what it was - a compliment. Almost as big a compliment as his hard cock and his heavy load of cum had been. There was no doubt that this man found her as sexy as fuck and it felt real good.

She leaned forward again and carefully cleaned his cock with her tongue before he finally put himself away. She stood up out of her vehicle.

"I guess I can't give you a kiss good-bye," she teased.

He smiled. "Maybe not but there's something else I want. Show me what's under that skirt."

Katrina half-turned her body for him. "In front or behind?"

"Everything - I wanna see it all."

She wiggled as she eased her tight skirt up, revealing her firm pale butt-cheeks as she displayed herself for him.

He nodded with his eyes gleaming. His hand gently slapped her butt once, then again and again. "Oh fuck yeah," he said, "just the right amount of jiggle. Got whooty, got big titties and got skills. Just one more thing to check. Lemme see that pussy."

Katrina didn't hesitate, never for one second did she even contemplate hesitating. She eased her skirt up the last part to reveal her pussy to him.

"Nicely trimmed - but I prefer my white pussy shaved. Understand?"

She nodded.

He looked at her like a teacher with a slightly slow student. He reached forward and his hand found her, his fingers exploring her opening. One slipped inside her and expertly found her clit. Katrina gasped. She'd known she was excited but hadn't realised just how ready she had been for him.