Kat Gets Wild

She was leaving the responsibilities of chilly, knockabout Chicago for the mellow, warm freedom of Tampa-St. Pete.

As the big silver airliner lifted off in the Illinois morning mist heading south, Kat looked out her window and wondered if she had the nerve to complete the mission she'd planned for the past seven weeks, the one she'd come close to wearing out her cunt contemplating.

Thankful the seat next to hers was unoccupied, she turned toward away from the aisle. Cruising at 39,000 feet leaving jet trails miles long, Kat closed her eyes to more worldly vistas and entered a fantasy realm where she confronted an African demon-snake.

Somewhere between consciousness and nirvana, Kat let a vision play out against her closed eyelids as if she were watching a movie. Crossing her bare, tanned legs and languidly pulsing her pussy muscles, she became increasingly aroused as she enjoyed her own in-flight entertainment, feeling the hot liquid as it collected in the cotton fibers of the plaid panties she wore.

* * * *

Standing next to Jake's motorcycle outside theBeach Time, Kat was as excited and nervous as she could ever remember. Her palms were clammy and her panties were soaked.

Jake gave her a helmet then fastened the clasp beneath her chin when she struggled. He swung his leg over the low-slung bike and lifted it upright off the kickstand. Extending his hand to Kat, he steadied her as she, too, lifted her leg across the back of the bike.

She knew that if anyone were watching her, he would have enjoyed an unobstructed view beneath her ultra short skirt and the thin filament of fiber that now served as a "gusset" in the panty she wore. She knew she was completely exposed and there was no obstructing pubic evidence either confirming or disputing the naturalness of her blonde locks.

Settling onto the leather saddle of the powerful bike, Kat felt its smoothness against what was for all intents and purposes her bare vagina. She quickly soaked the seat beneath her and enjoyed the slickness against her nether lips.

Kat was unprepared for the sensation as Jake fired up the powerful engine of a machine that was only street legal because the local cops were either Jake's buddies or too scared to write him up.

The noise was deafening and the throbbing beat of the explosions in the cylinder head and stroke of the pistons made the slippery seat feel like an enormous, flat, vibrating tongue. The big bike idled as Jake donned his helmet. Kat closed her eyes as a series of lesser tremors rolled through her genitals.

"Hold on tight," Jake warned Kat as he rammed the transmission into first gear. Cranking open the throttle and releasing the clutch, Jake spun his rear tire wildly in the loose gravel before it caught on the highway pavement squealing loudly and almost pitching Kat off the back.

It was only when the bike's acceleration dipped sharply as Jake shifted into second that Kat regained her balance and plastered herself even more tightly to Jake's hard body. Kat locked her arms around his waist and captured his hips as hard as she could with her thighs.

Kat was thrilled and terrified. She rode with her eyes closed, scootching up behind the muscular black man undulating her pussy against his buttocks. Jake could almost feel her soft skin over her flexed muscles as she clung to him. He was a master at using his thunder-rolling, flame-fired, maxi-motored, two-wheeled daring driving to secure maximum contact from frightened females.

Whenever they stopped for a traffic light, Kat would attempt to laminate her self to Jake as he unleashed the cycle again. But none of the succeeding starts were as scary as that first take off.

The roar and vibrations of the engine's power stroke worked the seat beneath Kat's now liquid genitals in an erotic massage. She was hardly the first woman to be made love to by Harley and Davidson.

Jake eased his bike to a stop in the dark and deserted parking lot next to his shop. He waited until Kat dismounted before turning off the motor and putting down the kickstand.

The shades were drawn and the sign on the door read "Closed" when Jake inserted his key and let them in. They stood in total darkness before Jake flicked a switch that illuminated a small lamp on the counter where money changed hands.

Jake took Kat's hand and led her behind a partition to the chair where his customers reclined while he painted them. Occasionally, a friend might drop by when a customer's purchase required that she revealed a private area.

When the friend called out his name, he'd answer, "Back here." Then he'd tell the female she wouldn't mind, would she. He didn't ask; he stated. Invariable the woman would let a perfect stranger see things that would get friends of her husband's faces slapped.

Kat sat on the stool that Jake used. It was adjusted so his long legs would just reach the floor so he could maneuver easily. She had to climb up to perch. Jake turned on his work lamp and tilted the lampshade to illuminate a wall of sample designs.

"Have you ever considered getting one?" Jake asked as Kat ran her fingers across images that caught her eye.

"I don't know, I guess so," Kat replied. She really couldn't remember whether she'd ever seriously thought getting one. They always represented that "bad boy" attraction/repulsion conflict. Kat realized that here, in this shop, with this ultimate forbidden male her own bad girl impulses would control her.

As if guided by fate, her fingers lingered on a particular image: the capital letter "I" followed by a red valentine's heart, the universal symbol for "I love" followed by the letters "BBC".

"Do you know what that is?" Jake asked her.

"A boy friend's or girl friend's initials?" Kat formed her answer as a question.

"Not exactly," Jake replied. "It stands for Big Black Cock."

Kat nearly fainted when she heard the three words that stated her needs. She realized that tonight there would be no romance, just raw sex, and that was exactly what she craved.

"Are you wearing panties?" Jake asked.

"A thong."

"What color?"

"Light blue."

"Let me see it."

Staring deeply into his dark brown eyes, Kat reached down and pulled her skirt up. Jake didn't look down. She knew he would out stare her but she battled him anyway.

"Spread your legs so I can have a proper look," Jake ordered her.

Kat moved her knees apart. Jake moved his hand between her thighs and rubbed his finger along the crotch of her cyan thong. Still holding eye contact, Kat moaned deeply.

"You're soaking wet," Jake accused.

"I know."

"Tell me why."

"Your body excites me." Kat moaned again finally closing her eyes.

She let the big black man stroke her and whimpered in appreciation and surrender. When she opened her eyes again, she saw he was looking at her panties.

"Tell me what excites you," Jake demanded, removing his hand from her.

Kat sat up straight. She slipped her hands under the vest that hung open and slid it off his shoulders letting it drop to the floor. She scratched her fingernails across his pectoral muscles. She couldn't get enough of the feel and sight of smooth, dark chocolate under her white hands.

"This," she stated. "I've never touched a man with bigger muscles. They're so fucking hard."

"This," Kat sighed, letting her fingertips graze against his bicep. She leaned forward and kissed, then licked, Jake's upper arm.

"This," she said running her fingers along the spiky, barbed-wire tattoo that encircled his arm just above the bicep. For the first time, Kat could make out that it said "black snake" in gothic letters. She opened her mouth kissing and sucking along the tinted flesh.

"And especially this." Kat traced the tattoo of a fat, black snake that slithered up from below the waistband of Jake's jeans leaving the viewer to imagine what lay hidden behind the denim cloth. The look of it made Kat's pussy cream.

"Is this Jake's snake?" she asked.

"It's one of them."

Kat let her fingertips continue to caress the tattooed skin, feeling its silkiness. The satiny black wrapper contained the hardness and definition of the abdominal musculature that rippled beneath. She looked deep into his eyes as she moistened her lips.

"I don't think I've ever seen one that big."

"I don't think you have either."

Both knew she wasn't referring to the tattoo.

Kat had never felt like this before. She'd always been so much in charge of her sexual encounters. For the first time in her life she wasn't, and this black man knew it.

"Please," she beseeched, "I want to kiss it."

Kat slipped off the stool and knelt on the carpeted floor. She held onto Jake's sides as she kissed the snakehead in worshipful sexual idolatry. She moved her hands behind him and cupped his ass as she licked his stomach.

Sitting back, she moved her hands to his belt and undid the buckle. Opening the metal button atop the fly, Kat unzipped Jake's pants. She slid her hand inside eagerly anticipating her first touch of black cockskin.

Would he be as large as Lisa advertised? There was little else Kat had thought about in all those private moments since she'd last visited Florida.

Her mind had been continually filled with images of monstrously large black phalluses. She visualized herself kneeling, worshipping at Jake's crotch in some sort of 'out of body' experience.

Other times she saw her hand wrapped around the black hardness admiring the puckered lipstick marks that she'd placed on the imagined beauty of that ebony wife pleaser.

Her fingertips encountered a large, spongy semi-hardness. She knew it was the treasure she sought. She let her fingers encircle it. They wouldn't meet. Kat had never felt a cock like that. She knew her fist was grasping Jake's pole somewhere in the middle. She spread her fingers as wide as she could and still touched neither the cock's base nor its head.

Kat could not do that with her husband. Whenever she fisted Ray's erection, her fingers encircled it easily and her hand either brushed up against the base or overlapped part of the head. Given the lack of firmness, Kat realized Jake was nowhere near fully hard yet. Her pussy juiced uncontrollably.

Like a kid with her hand jammed into a box of Crackerjack, Kat worked feverishly to free her prize. Soon it bobbed before her, unencumbered. Removing her hand so she could admire her genital treasure without obstruction, Kat moaned her gratitude. It hung down over the front of Jake's jeans so big, so glisteningly black, so utterly beautiful.

"Please let me take these off," Kat begged, looking up into Jake's eyes while tugging down on his pants.

Kat was still fully clothed as she knelt before Jake, now naked save his boots and the jeans bunched at his ankles. Her mouth hung open in awe as she jacked his dick and watched it grow. She couldn't resist leaning forward to kiss and lick it as she stroked. The sight of the cock in her hand caused her ovaries to throb.

When the black cock was fully hard, Kat began making love with her mouth. She let her lips slide over the head and lapped her tongue against the underside. She licked and gently bit her way up and down the ten-inch shaft.

Jake kept his scrotum neatly shaved and Kat delighted in its smoothness. She was no fan of licking her husband's hairy sac, but Jake's testicles were treated to an extended tongue bathing from the cute, horny, blonde.

Jake wanted to see more of his gorgeous fifty-year-old conquest but each time he tried to withdraw his cock from her sucking mouth, Kat moved greedily forward keeping the maximum length of his magical johnson confined by her lips and caressed by her tongue. Finally, placing his hand on Kat's forehead, Jake forced her to allow him to slip out.

"I want to see all of you," he said attempting to lift his prick worshipper.

"No! Please, no! Let me finish first. I'll do whatever you want after. Please," Kat begged.

Easing his grip on her head, Jake let her slide her oral opening back over his man meat. He'd met so many white wives who were driven by their own desires to offer him oral service.

Sometimes, if he were not particularly in the mood, or the entreating wife in question didn't particularly appeal to him, or he was saving himself for a hotter date later, he'd tell the woman she'd need to purchase access to his cock like his open fly represented some sort of lascivious kissing booth at a hedonistic county fair.

There seemed to be no limit to the cash mature snowbirds were willing to offer for the privilege of pleasuring his penis. Many times, he thought about selling his shop and living off his dick.

Truth was Jake enjoyed tattooing and was the best on the beach. He loved it when enthusiastic forty and fifty year olds who came south without their husbands and stopped by his shop. Some of the things they wanted made even him blush -- yes, black people blush.

Word of mouth (no pun intended) advertising had made Jake a local legend. Beautiful, sexy, mature ladies would come to him asking to be permanently marked with roses, butterflies, sexy puckered lips, or a lover's initials on their naked breast, ass cheek, or shaved snapper.

Those wives seemed unconcerned that they would have to explain prurient tattoos in intimate places. Perhaps their husbands never visited those parts of their bodies anymore.

Kat's passionate sucking brought Jake back into the moment. She was jerking his cock shaft with both fists and feverishly bobbing her head in her quest for a semen supper. Lust was consuming her yet she was remarkably clear headed.

Never had she had a cock even close to the majesty that was Jake's. She was thrilled that he let her have access to it. Never had she been able to put both hands on a cock, let alone both hands AND her mouth.

Even then, her hands never touched her lips as the Hershey hued hard-on torched the back of her throat. Kat felt all woman as she worked to unleash Jake's ejaculate.

"Here comes what you're waitin' for," hollered Jake as he began twitching and bucking his hips into the face of the beauty blowing him.

Two spurts flowed out of the cock slit and down Kat's esophagus. She loved slurping his cream into her tummy. It seemed to pour all the way down into her uterus lighting it on fire. Then the big spurts started. Kat counted: four, five, six, seven, eight splashes.

It was too much to contain within her mouth, especially as her clit was now pulsing as orgasmic waves flowed throughout her body. Jake's cum was dripping off her chin and onto her clothes. Kat knew they would remain unlaundered, keepsakes of this wondrous act she'd performed for a dream dick.

Kat brought her hand up under her skirt as she rested, exhausted on the floor, her back against the wall. She wanted to close her eyes and savor the flavor of the reproductive fluid coating her tongue, but she couldn't take her eyes off Jake's cock as it hung sated between them as if it were an independent organism.

Jake eyes were closed and he breathed deeply, recovering from Kat's magnificent blowjob. He had been sucked off by, literally, hundreds of women but he'd never known a better cocksucker than Kat.

"Damn, baby, you are good!" Jake exclaimed, taking one last deep breath. Noticing Kat, apparently unaware, stroking her panty-covered pussy, "Now are you going to take them panties off for me?"

Despite the mild orgasm she experienced from sucking Jake's cock, a first for her, Kat remained branding iron hot. Her pussy ached and throbbed without mercy.

She discovered one hand already on her thong as she reached down to slip it off. Jake held out his hand and she handed him the erotic, blue garment.

Jake felt the material, soaked with a slick fluid before holding it to his nose. He inhaled deeply.

Helping Kat to her feet, he kept on lifting her until her crotch was even with his mouth. She draped her lovely legs over his shoulders and leaned back supported by his massive arms. Kat felt completely secure in what would have been a precarious perch with any other man she knew.

Holding her with just one arm, Jake grasped Kat's skirt and bunched it about her waist. Kat's lovely, shaved pussy, an isosceles triangle of white framed by golden-brown, exposed, summer flesh lay open to an assault by Jake's tongue. That is just what Jake did. He assaulted Kat.

Jake's massive oral organ seemed as muscular as his bicep. It felt to Kat as if it had the rhythm of a skilled dancer as it darted and probed, manipulated, licked, and with his puffy lips, sucked her into delirium.

When he thrust it into her in a rabid tongue fuck, it felt bigger than her husband's cock. At one point, Jake slid it back, back along her outer labia, tickling her perineum, something no man had ever touched before, until it traversed all the way to her anus.

Kat had never known the pleasures of rimming and Jake ushered an anal orgasm from her as he probed around and into her sphincter. Kat moaned, guttural and low, when Jake withdrew his tongue from her anal crack and once again tongued her vagina tunnel. Her climax was longer and more powerful than any she'd ever experienced.

Temporarily exhausted, Kat turned back to the "BBC" tattoo on the wall and stroked it lovingly.

"Do women actually request this one?" Kat asked.

"You already know the answer, don't you," Jake answered.

"Married women?"

Jake didn't bother responding to the second, equally obvious query.

"Where do you put it?" Kat continued. "I mean where on their bodies?"

"Some want it on their tit," Jake told her, tracing his fingers across Kat's covered breast.

"Or here, if they are into anal," Jake continued, reaching behind her and touching her ass cheek.

"Right here is the most popular location." Jake flipped up her skirt and dragged a finger slowly across her abdomen just above her slit.

"Or here," moving his finger in slow sensuous circles against the flesh between her pussy cleft and upper leg. His touch spread goose bumps down Kat's legs, across her upper arms and the back of her neck.

"Would you like one?" Jake asked continuing his stroking.

"My husband would kill me," moaned Kat as her passion mounted.

"What about women who prefer to take it here?" Kat asked tracing her own fingertips across Jake's lips.

Taking her hand from his face, Jake placed it next to a variation of the image in which a pair ovaled lips replaced the heart. Kat's pussy shivered softly as she ran her fingers lightly across the outrageously shiny, frosted lips. Were there really women who had this on their bodies?

"Do you actually get requests for this one?" Kat asked although she was almost out of her mind with desire. She wanted that marking badly. It would be a way of admitting her mania. There would be no going back if Ray saw it.

Jake reached for a photo album. It was filled with examples of his work. He flipped to a page full of close ups of bare breasts or pussies with the beautiful, full, open lips separating the letter "I" to the left and "BBC" on the right.

Kat's pulse was racing wildly. Jake turned the page and there were more, then another page, and another. Many pictures included a woman's left hand and the unmistakable rings of marriage. Kat's brain was shutting down. There was too much information in those snapshots.

"Have all those women sucked your cock?" she asked bluntly. Jake smiled but didn't answer.

"Jesus," she asked incredulously, "does every wife north of the Mason-Dixon line come down here just to blow you?"

Jake laughed out loud. "Baby, this place ain't nothin' compared to the islands. You want to see some ladies bustin' to suck black dick cruise over to Freeport or Kingston sometime."

Kat had had all she could take. She stood in front of Jake and teased him with her tits. He scooped up a covered nipple with his fingers and squeezed it. He moved his hand down and pushed two fingers down her sloppy channel.