Nordic woman's first BBC Ch. 01

Nordic woman learns to love BBC Ch. 1 -- True story, part one.

This is a true story of a white Nordic woman in her early thirties who learned to love black cock. Names and some of the details have been changed to hide the identity of the people involved but the rest is told how it happened to me.

*

I did not sleep well. I was drunk. My head spun and I was having a dream of fucking a black guy. I fell asleep again.

*

I woke up with a major headache. I had been drinking a lot more than was planned. Turning my naked body over in the bed in the hotel room, I tried to remember the events of the last night. As I opened my eyes, I was shocked to see a black body beside me. Someone was sleeping in bed with me! Oh no, I was not dreaming earlier, it must have been a memory! Or was it? Was I raped? I stood up and recognized the man as Derek, my colleague from another university I have met a few times before. I had spent most of last night's conference dinner with him. I was a bit relieved that it wasn't a stranger.

I took my phone and quietly walked to the bathroom. On the way, I saw one of my beige high heel shoes in the hallway next to the bathroom door and the other one a few meters away just before the front door. Then I remembered kissing Derek and pulling him to my hotel room while kicking my shoes off. I sat on the toilet to pee while using my phone as a light source, not wanting to turn the bathroom lights on. Maybe we did not have sex, I thought, maybe he did not have a place to sleep and I invited him here, I reasoned, but immediately I realized that that wasn't the case.

Sitting there on the toilet, flashes started to come to me. I remembered being completely naked and being fucked by Derek in the doggy style position -- and I thought: that's odd because with my ex-boyfriend we did not use that position since I could not manage to cum in that way. Then I realized that no, that is not odd. Me having sex with a black guy is odd! After all, I have only had two guys before Derek: my ex-boyfriend and one unsatisfying experience as a teenager.

Although I had nothing against black people, sleeping with a black guy was just something I had not considered ever doing. I was a quite traditional, well-educated white thirty-one-year-old woman. I rarely drink at the time, I never even smoked a cigarette or anything like that. And when it comes to sex, I had never had a one night stand either. Until this night.

I stood up, flushed the toilet and washed my hands. I took my phone and headed back to bed. When I step out of the bathroom I saw something that almost gave me a heart attack. Only now I saw that there was another black male sleeping in the extra-bed located on the other side of the small hotel room. Dear God, have I slept with him too?! I froze and tried to remember. I remembered the events before dinner very well. I complained about my hotel room because it was too hot and dirty so they gave me another room. A room with an extra bed. The one where this black guy now was sleeping.

I remember kissing Derek at the elevator. But I surely did not remember this other guy. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe no-one had sex in this room last night. Perhaps I had offered a place to stay for these men, I thought. Oh God let it be that way. But then I realized that this other guy, in the extra bed, did not have any clothes on. His muscular body wasn't holding my attention but his massive cock resting on his thigh was.

Oh shit, I thought! Why is this guy naked?! His cock wasn't very long, at least not from the angle I was looking at it. But it was surely longer than my ex-boyfriend's and the girth of it was massive. The black cock, which I was still staring at, reminded me of an elephant's trunk. His balls and pubic hair were completely shaven, which seemed to amplify the scenery.

Turning my eyes away from the cock, I looked around to get some hints on what the hell had happened last night. I saw my black bra and panties on the floor on Derek's side of the bed. That's not good, I thought and suddenly I realized that I was still completely naked. As a reflex, I covered my small, round perky tits with one hand and picked up my lingerie with the other. I put the panties on and folded the bra and placed it on the nightstand on my side of the bed.

Then the idea came to me. Condoms! There must be condoms somewhere if I had fucked these guys. Unless, I thought, Oh God! That's not possible. Unless they went bareback with me! Although I have hormonal IUD that I have not removed since I broke up with my boyfriend I am not the sort of person who gambles with STDs! I quickly put a finger inside my panties and did not feel any cum in it. Then I put my finger inside of me and did not feel any cum in there either. But maybe the sperm had all flushed out of me while I was peeing, I reasoned.

The sheet on my side of the bed did not seem to have any stains on it. Every time I had sex with my ex-boyfriend his sperm oozed directly out of my pussy when he pulled his limp cock out of me. Now, my pussy did not feel especially sore either, so I assumed that if I were fucked it probably did not last very long.

Since I did not get any clues from my pussy whether it was fucked last night, I tried to look for clues elsewhere. A trash can. There is a trash can under the table! I went to the trash can and immediately saw a used condom there. My initial reaction was relief. At least we used a condom. But then I saw something else. I lifted the condom slowly with my two fingers and I saw that there was not one but two used condoms in the trash. Oh fuck, I thought. I was truly was fucked by both of these guys last night.

I heard Derek moving around in the bed so I quickly tossed the condoms back in the trash and went back to bed as well. I could not believe what had happened to me. My mind wandered until I fell asleep again.

*

I heard the sound of a man peeing. When I opened my eyes the room was brighter; the sun had already risen. I saw the other guy on the extra bed lying and texting with his phone, still naked. I heard the toilet flush and Derek came from the bathroom.

"So are you up?" He said to me and smiled. "How did you sleep?" he asked as he put on his boxers.

I moved to a sitting position and leaned on the wall behind the bed, covering myself with the blanket. I managed to mumble something about being very drunk and complaining that I did not sleep very well because of it.

"Too bad," he said, and continued, "But you had a good time last night right?"

I was watching him putting on his clothes but I did not know what to say. The other guy put his phone away, moved to sit on the side of the bed, his cock swinging between his thighs while he was positioning himself at the edge of the bed. My eyes briefly skimmed his cock, it was instinct, I could not help it. I immediately regretted that and I could feel my white face blushing. Both of the guys were now looking at me, smiling.

All I managed to say was: "Well, I do not remember much of it".

Derek replied that I had been very drunk but based on the moaning I really enjoyed last night. Oh God, I did moan last night while having sex, I thought and I felt that my face must have been completely red by now. I was so embarrassed.

I thought that the situation could not get any more embarrassed so I said with a quiet voice: "Did we... you know, have sex?"

"Yes we did, you don't remember?" Derek responded. "First you and I fucked and after I had cummed, you insisted that Mo should fuck you as well."

Mo? I was thinking, his name was Mo, and I fucked him as well. Jesus. That is not like me. And suddenly the image came vividly in my mind. Me being fucked by Derek from behind and me moaning loudly. But then after he came, I did not have my orgasm, I remember asking, no, I was begging, Mo to fuck me in the missionary position and he made me cum. God! Oh God oh God, why did Derek fuck me doggy style in the first place? I have never been able to cum in the doggy style position so I should have chosen missionary. With that, he would have made me cum and I would not have begged Mo to join!

Mo headed to the bathroom, still naked. I tried to look away from his cock which was hanging loose like some kind of a boa snake. Derek told me that he had to go but that if I wanted to do this again sometime I should just email him. Did I want to do what again, I thought. Get drunk and fuck two black guys -- one of them a stranger to me!?

Instead of saying that I just said, "Okay."

Okay? Fuck why did I say that, I immediately thought. I should have said something else. Like whose idea this was in the first place, and why did we do what we did. Why did they fuck me when they knew I was so wasted.

Derek put his shoes on and he said something to Mo in a foreign language that I did not recognize. The door to the hallway opened, then closed again and I heard Derek's footsteps in the hallway. Mo flushed the toilet and I suddenly realized we were both now alone in the room -- and naked. I squeezed the blanket around me even tighter when Mo was walking from the bathroom. He looked at me and said he was leaving but could stay for some time if I wanted to take another round with him. Jesus, I thought.

"No!" I managed to respond quickly with a strict voice.

"Ok," he responded. "Suit yourself." He put his shorts on without any underwear and put on his t-shirt as well. Then he took his wallet and phone with him and like Derek he was gone.

Oh my god, I was thinking. What have I done? I looked at the clock and realized that I should go to breakfast if I wanted to get something before they close it. I was really hungry. Those rare occasions when I have had a hangover, I always had a huge appetite as well.

Unfortunately, I did not have time to take a shower. I put on my bra and panties from last night, and a black tank top and squeezed myself into the beige skirt that I had thrown on the sofa. While I was dressing I thought was it me who removed my clothes last night or did the guys undress me. I could not tell which way it was but thought that perhaps it did not matter.

I put on the beige heels found in the hallway and I managed to look at myself in the mirror. My mascara was spread over my eyebrows and, oh, my hair was a mess. My long brown hair was all mixed up! It looked like I just had sex. God! But I did not have time to fix it so with my hands I tried to do my best to fix my hair a bit to not look like the slut I had been. I got my keycard and then almost ran to the elevator.

*

It turned out that I did not have hurry after all. When I got to the lobby, where breakfast was served, I realized that on Saturday they were serving breakfast a bit later. When I was walking beside the tables to get some food I had the feeling that people were staring at me. It must be my imagination I thought, although I remembered vividly how I looked when I left my room.

I had managed to fix my hair only a bit at the elevator so I was very insecure with myself now. My only comfort was that I did not know any of the people here and while my appearance might have given them a clue on what kind of a slut I had been last night they did not know who I was.

I ate a huge breakfast and when I had my coffee, I started to feel my stomach turn. The coffee did its job and I was ready to empty my bowels. I stood up and headed back to the elevator. The elevator trip seemed very long because I needed to go to the toilet now. I was almost running in the hallway, which was very difficult because of my high heels. When I managed to get to my room, l I kicked my shoes off and headed straight to the toilet. Sitting there emptying myself I had some time to put the pieces together in my head and thought about the details of last night.

Derek, who was in his forties was a colleague of mine working in a different institute. I had known him for several years now, but only professionally. We had met once or twice per year in conferences and workshops -- such as the one last night. While I knew Derek, I did not know Mo at all. Only his first name. Derek was tall and smart, while Mo was shorter, more bodybuilder type and had a fat dick. I did not remember what kind of dick Derek had. And when I was sitting on the toilet and thinking I figured out that I might not have seen it at all -- because he took me from behind and I did not remember sucking it. Neither did I remember how his cock felt in my pussy. But since they told me I was moaning and I remember that too, I guess it felt either really big or really good. Possibly both.

These two guys took me naked in a hotel in a foreign city. They impaled my alabaster white body with their black cocks. I still could not believe it happened. But it did. I was not tiny but much smaller than these guys were. And over ten years younger, although as a 31-year old I was not a teenager anymore. I could not get the images out of my head.

First, Derek fucked me from behind in the doggy style position, made me moan and came himself. Luckily, he was wearing a condom. Then I begged Mo to take me as well. I remember lying on the bed while Mo climbed on me and penetrated me with his elephant trunk. I now remembered my long white bare legs being up in the air, my toes pointing towards the ceiling. When I had cummed, I had pulled my legs down and squeezed Mo's strong body with them while we were both in a blitz of our simultaneous orgasms.

I emptied my bowels for some time ago but I still just sit there trying to remember more details. But I could not remember anything else. I stood up, flushed the toilet and went straight to the shower. I spent at least 15 minutes in the shower, washing myself fully and then just standing there and letting the water hit my face. I tried to put last night behind me and concentrate on the day to come. I had a train to catch and a four-hour trip home.

I scheduled dinner with my best friend Anna, later in the evening. I thought about whether I should tell her about last night. Anna had married a black foreign man some years ago and I thought that I might want to share this to her. But I was not sure. Well, I could think about that later on the train.

I stood up from the shower, put on some light makeup, dried my hair, made a high ponytail of it and put on my last clean pair of underwear on; black g-strings. I wore skin-coloured bras and I then put on my tight beige jeans and a yellow top. I packed the rest of my clothes in my luggage. I put on my 5-inch beige pumps and cursed that I did not bring other more comfortable shoes with me. Then I headed out of my room and towards the elevators, train station and eventually home.

*

The train was almost full. I tried to think about my upcoming meeting with Anna but all I could think about was my sexual encounter with Derek and Mo. I kept repeating the events of last night in my head and wondered how it all happened. A black teenage boy walked past me and smiled at me. I could not help myself so I turned my head checking his behind as he walked away. Thank God, he did not do the same, that would be awkward.

I saw black men differently now, I thought. Something had changed within me. Or its nothing. Maybe it is like when you are in driving school. Before I had taken any classes I saw driving school cars nowhere but after I had finished driving school I seemed to spot them everywhere. Maybe it was because I was now paying attention to black men, I thought.

I was awakened from my daydreaming by an urge to pee. I headed to the toilet. I did not want to use toilets on the train. They were always small and dirty, but the trip was too long to hold it in. When I sat down, lowered jeans, my g-strings and started to pee, I saw a stain inside my g-strings. Is that pee? I wondered. Or blood. No, it can't be. I should have my period in two weeks or so and my IUD prevents most of my menstrual flows anyway. But could it still be blood somehow? Had the guys broken something inside me?! Fuck! After I finished peeing, I put my hand against my pussy. Oh, it's just my moisture, I was relieved! I looked at my hand, I am turned on! Shit! Well, at least my cunt is! Hah! I looked at the moisture on my hand. It glistened. There was a lot of it. I realized then that my daydreaming of Derek and Mo had turned me on.

I moved my fingers and it looked like I had a web between my last three fingers. The way the pussy juices were clumped on my hand looked like a webbed foot. I was like a teenager with her first masturbation session. I stopped my child-like wonder and realized I that I had to clean it. I reached for the toilet paper, only to hear the sound of an empty toilet roll spinning. There was nothing there! My heart skipped a beat. I looked around the small and disgusting toilet. There was no paper anywhere, even the hand towel racket was empty. Fuck, how did I forget to check the toilet before starting to pee? With my clean left hand, I was reaching for my purse while trying to keep my moist hand away from my clothes or my hair. I always had napkins in my purse.

Almost always. I went through the purse with my right hand and there was nothing. Fuck. I had used all the tissues earlier. There I was, sitting in a dirty toilet my pussy and my right hand covered with my nectar. What the hell should I do? What could I do, I asked myself. Think. You are a smart woman. You can figure this out, I told myself.

I thought I could wash my hands, assuming the water from the tap is running here, and dry my hands with my hair. That would have to do it.

I stood up, in the small toilet, the train turned a bit and I had to focus on trying not to fall over. I still had my jeans just above my knees and my slime-covered g-strings maybe an inch higher. I put my right hand under the tap and nothing happened. I could not believe it. I waved my hands there but the automatic tap did not work! Fuck, I cursed in my head. How can everything go wrong?!

As I was standing there I went through my options. I remembered that in case of a car accident or other emergency the first thing one should do is to prevent any further damages. I applied this thought and said to myself that I should avoid spoiling any more of my clothes or other things with my slime. But then I also realized that my clothes were the only thing I could wipe my hand with. I quickly concluded that I would rather ruin some of my clothes than wipe my hand in my hair.

So what clothes did I have on? Beige 5 inch high heel pumps. They are made of hard, shiny plastic so I cannot use them to wipe my hand or pussy. Besides, they are expensive and I do not want to ruin them. I had my black g-strings. There was only so much material in them and since they were already soaked with my juices I could not wipe my hand with it. I also did not want to go the rest of the trip without any underwear on. I also did not see the point in going to get my luggage and coming back to his toilet to change into clean panties. It did not seem like a tenable option.

My beige jeans won't work because any stains or wetness there shows up as a dark spot. Wiping my hand on my yellow top could not work. I can't wear a top that is covered with my pussy juice on a public train! How about my bra then? Could I wipe my hand with my bra and go without it for the rest of the trip? Well not with this top. It is a bright colour and tight so I would be practically naked underneath it! Plus if my pussy is wet I know my nipples are rock hard as well so there is no way I could go without a bra! I figured that it was also very difficult, if not impossible to remove my bra here in the small and dirty toilet using only one hand.

Running out of options and still standing there in an uncomfortable position it hit me. I had to lick and eat my hand clean. I looked at my hand. I had not eaten my pussy drool since I was a teenager. I thought it was gross. But that was my best option.