Maggie Goes Out on Her Own

My first experience with a black guy changed my life.

I was the perfect Southern white wife, blonde hair and blue eyes, married to my law partner and living a comfortable life, a 44-year-old woman content with herself and in need of nothing.

And then I found myself under the spell of a young exchange student after only one night of sex I didn't even remember.

I was ashamed and a little scared, not able to put together the events of the previous Friday night, only a vague memory that seemed more like a dream. All I know is that I woke up late Saturday morning on the couch. I was naked and my pussy ached, and I smelled like I'd been used by an entire group of men.

And I was strangely addicted to something I couldn't quite describe.

The weekend had been a two-day recovery from Friday night. I barely spoke to Nick, though I didn't know quite what to say anyway. All I knew was that I had to see Rakeem again.

Our law practice is a very conservative firm, with some of the most important clients in the city, hardly the place for a sexy black dress and heels, which is what I picked out of my closet Monday morning. And then, after a silent breakfast of coffee and bagels, I lied to Nick as I walked out the door, telling him I would need to take my own car today.

"I have to go to the Hall of Records," I said, kissing Nick on the cheek, hopping into my car and waving.

"I'll see you in a few hours!".

I drove straight to the Hall of Records then stood inside the glass entrance and waited for Nick. Sure enough, 10 minutes later, he drove slowly past the building, noticing my car before driving off toward our office.

Then I walked back out the Hall of Records, got into my car, did a U-turn and drove to the hotel where Rakeem worked.

I was breathing heavily when I got there. I jumped out of the car and went through the entrance to the restaurant on the first floor of the hotel, said hello to the girl at the front desk and walked straight into the kitchen.

Carlos, the chef, saw me come in and walked toward me.

"Miss Maggie!" he said, way too happy to see me.

He hugged me, and I felt his hand slide down my back almost to my ass when I pulled away and whispered loudly, "Is Rakeem here?"

Carlos gave me a sideways glance and smiled.

"Miss Maggie, you look flushed," he said.

"Carlos, is Rakeem here? I need to talk to him."

Carlos walked to a wall behind the island in the kitchen and ran his finger down a list of names.

"Rakeem comes in at noon," he said. "He's in Room 411."

Carlos was helping Rakeem during his six-week independent study program at the college. He'd given him a job and was helping him by paying for a room in the hotel.

"Thank you," I said before Carlos could inquire, whirling away and walking back out of the restaurant, and into the circular glass door of the hotel.

I was nervous. I was scared. I was curious. But mostly, I just wanted to know what happened Friday night. I'd been drinking, probably too much, and I remember making drinks for the three of us with Rakeem and Nick waiting in the den. I remember Rakeem had driven us home. I remembered making the drinks. I remembered Rakeem suddenly standing in front of me.

I remember kissing him. And I remembered, vaguely, being on my knees looking at a giant black cock, and being overcome with desire. After that, not so much.

I knocked on the door of 411. I could hear rustling inside. I heard Rakeem mumbling something about towels.

He thought I was housekeeping.

Eventually, I saw the peep hole darken, then the door opened slowly, Rakeem peering around it.

"Miss Maggie?" he said in shock and fear. His eyes were wide as he stood there staring at me.

I finally pushed open the door myself.

"Rakeem," I said walking into a half dark room, only the flickering the television providing any light. "We need to talk about..."

Then I saw him. He was completely naked, the dark outline of his body barely visible as I closed the door and left him exposed and frightened.

I turned away, walked to the bed and sat down, shielding my eyes as Rakeem scrambled for a towel.

We spoke at the same time.

"I'm so sorry..."

We both stopped and waited. I wanted to apologize for walking into his room unannounced. He was apologizing for something else.

"Rakeem, hush," I said. "Come over here."

He stepped sheepishly into the television light, standing tall over me as I fumbled for words.

"Rakeem, I need to know what happened the other night," I said. "I need you to tell me what we did."

I was staring at the towel, which was now starting to grow, the black cock I barely remember coming to attention as the young man from Mozambique stood over the married blonde lawyer he'd fucked three nights ago.

"Miss Maggie," he said, shaking his head and reaching down to push his emerging erection down. It wasn't working. The towel was actually starting to open, exposing his thigh and getting my full attention.

I noticed my breathing changed. I adjusted myself on the edge of his bed. I suddenly became aware I was wearing a low-cut party dress with a low-cut bra that he was probably staring at while I stared at his towel, which was now completely open to his waist, his long hard cock dancing under the cloth.

"Rakeem," I said, dreamily.

"I just, I don't really remember."

I felt like I was talking in another language, which in a sense I was. I shook my head and tried to start again, searching for the right questions, the right words, wishing I could go back to Friday night, to exact moment he walked into the kitchen. But then the dream started to come back, and I was there again, drunk and lusting for a black man I didn't know.

I vaguely remembered scenes, being tossed around, being fucked by a black shadow. I was no longer talking. My eyes were closed, and I could feel a wave of heat and a wanton smell filling my nostrils.

I was lost. I couldn't speak. My chest was heaving and I could feel my pussy starting to throb. I was wet. I could feel my thighs opening, as if by free will. I could feel myself sliding slowly off the bed, collapsing to my knees. I reached out and removed the towel barely hanging from Rakeem's hips.

His glistening black cock sprang out. I reached out and took it into my hands and slid my mouth around it.

"Mmmmmmmmm," I said.

I could feel Rakeem begin to breath hard. I tasted the familiar dark rich cock from my dream, and I felt his hands on the back of my head. His cock slid to the back of my throat and he began using my head to fuck my mouth, gently at first then thrusting his cock deep into my throat, gagging me as I struggled to breathe, saliva dripping from my chin as he grunted and fucked my face.

I could feel his aggression. I could feel him taking control. I could feel myself melting away, feeling completely submissive for the first time in my life.

And then his hand reached under my arms as his cock popped from my mouth. He lifted me effortlessly and threw me onto his bed. I fell back hard as he got on his knees and opened my legs. He pushed them above my head with one hand and tore my panties off with his other, the fabric ripping away from one leg. He left them hanging around my other leg as he pushed my legs completely over my head until they touched his headboard.

Then he smacked my ass once, twice then hard a third time, making me gasp and for the first time making my afraid of what I'd walked into, terrified of what Friday night must have been like.

Tears formed in my eyes and he spanked me harder, my legs touching the headboard as I held my hips and gave myself to this black mandingo shrouded in darkness.

His tongue was suddenly in my asshole, probing it as he made animal sounds, devouring me as I gasped, tears falling down my face.

And then something came over me. I don't know what, but I suddenly wanted him more than I've ever wanted anything in my life.

"Yes!" I shrieked. "Yes!"

I could feel a hand over my pussy, massaging it without form or sensitivity. He rubbed it harder and harder until I felt something bigger probing my ass. Was it his finger? Was it his thumb?

He began fucking my ass with something, and I wanted more.

"Fuck it," I said, hissing and gritting my teeth.

The sensation was overwhelming. He continued to probe me deeply, too deep for a finger or a thumb. I didn't care.

I suddenly felt myself being picked up from the hips, pulling my entire body up, my legs dangling over his shoulder and he picked me up and spun me around. My crotch slid to his face as he turned around and leaned back against pillows. I was suddenly riding him, my jammed into his face as I glanced at a flickering reflection of us in the large mirror.

All I could see was my blonde hair scattered about, my white legs wrapped around a dark figure under me. And a hair brush sticking out of my ass.

I put all my weight on him, grinding my pussy into him, feeling his tongue penetrating my hot pulsing pussy as I came in a wave. I reached around and grabbed the hairbrush and began fucking my ass as I gushed all over his face.

And then it happened.

Rakeem was so strong, so athletic. I don't even know how it happened so fast, but he slid out from under me, pulled my legs out from under me and off the bed, my ass exposed, my dress over my waist, my panties torn and hanging from one leg. I felt the hair brush being removed. And then I felt something else.

Rakeem's cock is 10 inches long, maybe longer. The head of it as round as a can of hairspray. But I could feel it on my asshole. I could feel him reach under me and wet his hand with my pussy juice, feeling a string of saliva drip onto my asshole, lubing me as I opened my legs, reached back and pulled my ass cheeks apart.

"Do it," I said. "Fuck my ass."

It hurt more than anything I can ever remember, a hot coal-black rod splitting me open, slowly as he entered me. I screamed into the bedspread. It was excruciating. It was impossibly painful.

I grabbed a fistful of the bedspread, crying, feeling like I was being impaled.

I loved it.

"Fuck me Rakeem!" I screamed into the bedspread, grabbing a pillow and burrowing my head into it, screaming harder and louder. "Oh my God!"

Rakeem was halfway in when he slowed and I began to relax. I felt my ass muscles begin to loosen as Rakeem paused and let me breath. He caressed my ass cheeks, which were still burning from the spanking which seemed like hours ago.

Then he leaned over. I could feel his body pressing on me.

His breath was hot on my neck. Then I felt him slide his head to my ear.

"White woman," he whispered.

I was suddenly terrified.

His hand was in my hair and I could feel him gathering up a handful as his body lifted off of me. And then I was jerked up by my hair, violently. He plunged his cocked the rest of the way into me.

I screamed to the top of my lungs, a horror-filled scream that echoed off the walls, a scream that was certainly heard by others in the hotel.

Rakeem rammed his giant cock into my ass. I had the sensation that I was bleeding. I had the sensation I was being raped by a black man.

He fucked me harder as he pulled my head higher, pile-driving his black rod so deep into me I could feel the tip of it touching inner organs. Hot pain shot through my cervix. My hips felt like they were separated. My legs were numb.

I felt his cock sliding in and out of my ass like a piston, wet and powerful. I was no longer crying. I was no longer in pain. I was in shock.

I felt him pull out, my ass feeling no different after his cock exited my body, just a numbness that I was afraid would never go away.

He pulled me over and completely off the bed, throwing me to my knees as he began to whip his cock on my face, my tears and mascara turning my face black as his cock hit me like a baseball bat.

I felt abused. I felt small and insignificant. I wasn't sure he wasn't going to kill me. I sensed hatred. I sensed a primal, animal dominance. Then I felt his hands around my neck.

I sat there on my knees, pitiful and whimpering, my blood being cut off from my brain. I couldn't breathe. I gasped and opened my mouth just as his cock slid into it. He pressed my head back to the mattress and began to fuck my face, his hands on the side of my head. I could taste my ass.

Something deep inside me stirred. It wasn't fear as much as total submission, complete consent, absolute acceptance.

Rakeem came in my mouth, thick ropes of hot semen blasting into my throat, so much cum I couldn't swallow it all, my mouth filling with oozing hot animal manhood, sloshing out and running down my chin.

He finished by pulling his cock out slowly, making me lick him clean, swallowing the last drop of cum hanging from his big black dick.

Then he walked away, threw open the blinds and slumped into a chair, staring at me and smiling, slowly jacking his impossibly big cock as I sat there, slouched on my knees. Neither of us spoke a word. I stood and pulled my dress down, looking into the mirror and almost fainting.

My face was streaked black. My hair was a mess. My dress was crooked. I looked down and saw my ripped panties dangling around one heel. The other heel was on the bed. I looked like I'd been gang banged.

Rakeem didn't move to help me. I wobbled on one heel to the mirror and began to smooth down my hair, noticing his hair brush on the bed. I didn't bother. I took my heel off, grabbed the other one and walked to the door. I glanced over my shoulder, looked at Rakeem half smiling, stroking his cock. It was hard again.

I opened the door and walked out, the entire housekeeping staff staring at me all the way down the hallway. They were all black. One of them said something I didn't understand, and they all laughed.

I took the stairs, walked out the side door of the hotel and went straight to my car, collapsing into the seat and realizing my asshole was on fire.

I drove straight home. I didn't even notice Nick's convertible following me.