Reparations

Maxwell took a breath and glanced at Karl and Mr. Crew. "Do you both mind if I talk with Senator Chanler? Alone." Mr. Crew got up wordlessly and sauntered out of the diner. Karl answered Yes sir in a hushed voice and followed suit. And just like that, it was just me and the Lieutenant Governor.

"Can we drop the curtain, Kayleigh. Make it less formal."

"Of course, Austin. Let's just talk," I responded, feeling relieved that his two side pieces had left.

"Good." He leaned forward on his hands, itching closer. His eyes looked into mine and lost some of their warmth. "This is me talking, not Sandoval. I know you want to make big moves in this game. And you will. You're young, but you can make it anywhere you want. Trust me, I've seen how you can get a crowd motivated to support your cause, and more importantly, vote for you. BUT...that hope can be jeopardized if you go against the wrong people."

I didn't hide my dissatisfaction. Without hesitation, I rolled my eyes. I may be young, but I've heard the spooky scary "don't get on my bad side" speech a dozen times.

Austin Maxwell didn't stop. "I don't mean me, or even the Governor. I mean those in Las Vegas. Those with power that aren't in politics. Those are the people you need to woo and persuade once you get to running for those bigger offices. And they have a long memory. If you actively go against them here...I can't say they'll help you when you try to get a seat in D.C." Again, as much as I hated it, I knew he was right. That didn't mean I had to accept it.

"I just... can't Austin. You know why. That's like asking Legislator Zuck to turn around and oppose nuclear energy; this is MY thing." Austin awkwardly shimmied out of the booth across from me. He reached up slowly to his eyes and took off his wire glasses. He rubbed his small blue eyes and then opened them back up, staring into my hazel ones.

This time when he spoke, he spoke loudly. "I understand, Senator Chanler. I'll give you time to think about it. You know where to find me," he said, his tone clearly more frustrated. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a messy wad of cash. LG Maxwell showing his down-to-earth image again. No one else I knew still paid with cash. "Keep in mind, Las Vegas doesn't like it when someone disagrees with them."

And, with a speed surprising for his mass, the Lieutenant Governor left out of the diner, the bell clanging behind him.

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I was never good at separating my work life from my home life. Living alone in an apartment gave me a lot of time to myself, not that I minded, and that alone time usually went right back into being a senator. I looked a bit more into some of the numbers, as well as reaching out to a few of my politician friends across the line in Sacramento. Everything I found was the same information I already knew, and after only an hour, I was getting sick of staring at my bulky black laptop. Instead, I reached for my slightly less bulky phone, my personal phone. The gold wallpaper was shining brightly on top of my tired face, but my day wasn't over. I went directly to my messages and found my recent conversation with Micah.

Of course, the previous text I had sent him was a nude. And if we're being honest, a pretty good one. I was sitting on a park bench, where I usually have my lunch when the weather's nice (and I don't have diner dates with Maxwell and his posse). My black dress suit was spread open, and my red blouse underneath had been pulled down below my tits. I've always thought my C cup breasts were average at best, but a lot of black men loved them, and Micah was no exception. In my tiredness, I stared at my own nude selfie more than most girls normally do as I began to pick apart my finer details. My tits, I had to admit, looked pretty nice in the photo. Sure, they weren't as big as Lily's, but they weren't small by any means, even if my nipples were a bit on the tinier size. And thanks to my age, my breast hadn't started to sag at all, which always made me feel good about myself. I was careful to not show my face. Even in this day and age, a politician's nude images circling around the internet wasn't always a great thing. The only mark that it was my own body was the auburn hair, flowing just barely past my shoulders; a perfect mix of brown and dark scarlet, if I do say so myself.

Hey! Are you free to come over? I want to talk to you about something. I left my text to him intentionally vague. I wanted to see his initial reaction to everything myself. As usual, Micah took no time responding.

Yeah. Cant stay for long tho.

That's alright! Just wanted to ask your opinion on something. It shouldn't take too long. Normally, Micah is the one telling me he's coming over, but on rare days, I ask him. And today was certainly a rare day.

K. Be there in abt 10 mins. Be ready for me. Living room. His response was as I expected, and I started to get aroused. It wasn't hard for black men to get me going, and Micah knew how to use my submissiveness towards him. After I shot back a quick Yes sir response, I made my way from the office to my bedroom. My apartment wasn't big, but it wasn't small either. And that went for my room, too. Hidden behind a sliding mirror was my closest.

Most of what I had hanging was work attire, but nearly hidden in the back was my dresses. Sure, some I wore for fancy dinners, but others I wore for occasions like this. I picked out Micah's favorite dress, a long, black bodycon dress, with black sleeves. Thanks to a strict regimen, I've lost some weight since college, and the sleeves fit around my arms perfectly to show off their toned shape. That wasn't the focal point of the fashion piece, though. And it wasn't why Micah loved my body in it. Along my left leg, stopping just at my waist, was not the black fabric the rest of the dress was made of; it was mesh. Perfectly see through, showing off my equally toned legs and thigh. Obviously, not appropriate attire for dinner, but perfect for him. I made my way into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. I didn't have time to go all out, but I loved dolling myself up for Micah.

The first thing I did was mascara. I've always thought my eyes were a little far apart from each other, and the darker lines helped widen them, give them a sharper shape, and bring them a bit closer together. Thankfully, my face was clear of any acne I used to have, so I decided to add a bit of blush and call it a day, leaving only my lipstick. Micah liked red. No question about it. After I ran the scarlet stick across my pursed lips, I took a step back and admired myself. My body looked good in my dress, showing off my thighs and ass well. My tits were a bit more suppressed, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind. My dark red-brown hair was still a bit tangled from a day at the office, but Micah only gave me 10 minutes, so I had to work with what I got. And I was happy to see that the little touches to my face gave me a radiant attractiveness. Alright, so maybe I'm not the most humble person in the world, sue me.

I was finished getting ready for him before it was time, so I sat around awkwardly, scrolling through my phone. After a few minutes of mindless relaxing in a full face of makeup and sexed up dress, I decided it was time. I unlocked the front door and stepped back until I felt the carpet from my living room under my bare feet. I've done this several times; Micah likes his theatrics. Once I was a step into my living room, still in front of the door, I slowly bent down to my knees, held my hands behind my back, lowered my head, and waited.

I couldn't have been waiting for more than a couple minutes, but it felt longer in the moment as I waited for the man to take me. Then, I finally heard the door open and then promptly close. I turned my eyes up, without raising my head, to see a pair of black shoes slowly making their way towards the carpet. His steps didn't get any lighter as he stepped right up to me, looking down at my body. Even without his touch, Micah had caused me to get aroused. Openly presenting myself to him, showing submission before he even reached my home. And now stalking around me, making sure his prey looked good enough to pounce on. Soon enough, I heard the unmistakable sound of a belt being unbuckled and a zipper being unzipped. With ease, Micah's pants fell to the floor, covering his shoes.

"Start stroking, slut." His voice boomed over me. Louder than his normal speaking voice, this was his commanding voice. As one of his Queens, I knew this voice well, and I knew what it meant.

"Yes sir!" I responded, not as loud, but with as much enthusiasm. I brought my arms from around my back and placed them in front of me, now on all fours. I widened my eyes and looked up. His cock semi-hard curved down towards my painted lips. I reached my left hand out, purposefully showing off my QOS tattoo. I delicately grabbed towards the tip of his dick. As always, it was too thick for my hand to wrap fully around. I slowly moved my hand up and down his shaft. I could feel my face get hot as I worked his cock to a harder erection, focusing on the contrast of our colors. My white hand, capped with blue nails, and his striking black cock, with a hint of dark pink on his tip. I twist my wrist as I stroke his black cock to full erection, and it doesn't take long before I hear my bull's next command.

"Worship it"

"Yes sir" I respond again, as I've been conditioned to. I open my mouth, ready to take his cock in me, but I feel his hand rest on top of my head. His hand steadying my head is calm, but no less demanding than his voice. I look up into his eyes, my red lips still spread open. His brown eyes stare down. For the first time today, I see his face, along with his curled Duke hairstyle, freshly faded and gray stubble beard.

"Don't suck it, slut. Worship it." I know what he wants, and I wordlessly respond. With one hand, I guide his fully hardened cock towards me, and instead of blowing him, I kiss the tip. I kiss my way down the side of his shaft and work my way along the underside of his dick. From above me, I hear his deep satisfied moans, and I know I'm serving him right. I run my tongue along the veins on his cock and he brings back down his hand, keeping me beneath him. My kisses travel down to his base, and then finally, to his balls.

I know it's not becoming of a woman in power, like myself, but fuck it. I LOVE a black man's balls. The feel. The smell. The submission. Everything. Once I felt my tongue hitting his skin, I opened my mouth and welcomed one of his balls in. As I lowered myself further into serving him, my hand reached back up to his black cock and began stroking again. My mouth on his balls, my hand stroking his dick, I looked up into his eyes. He stared his dark eyes back for a split second, before craning his head up and moaning.

I continued, working until I was sucking both of his balls. Micah had enough of my worship, and he grabbed my dark hair, pulling me off his body. Half a day ago, I was a politician, standing up for myself against the second in command in all of Nevada. Now, I was on my knees, dressed in a slutty outfit, and with my makeup becoming sloppy from my own saliva.

"Aight, bitch. Start serving your bull." Micah ordered, with a deep breath. I smiled, both because I knew I was making him feel good, and because I was about to do one of my favorite things: sucking black cock. All too eager, I opened my mouth and took his head inside me. I could feel his warmth on my tongue and the smooth, spongy texture of his tip. My black bull was certainly horny for me, because after a few seconds of going down on the top half of his now 10-inch cock, I could already taste his precum. It was salty for sure, but also had a hint of sweetness. I work my mouth further down, reaching past the lipstick stains I had left there minutes before. I pick up my pace, dragging my soft lips tightly around him.

My bull's hand traveled down over my head and found its way through my hair. I felt a quick tug as he wrapped his hands around my auburn locks, and he took control. Forcing me deeper on his erection. Pushing his cock deeper and deeper into my throat. Tears began to well up and fall across my cheeks, taking some of my mascara with it. I take him deeper into my whore mouth. Gagging and choking messily. The unmistakable sounds of cocksucking filled my apartment, and Micah wanted more. Keeping his left hand on my head, he snatched up my wrists off his waist, leaving my knees on the floor and my mouth around his cock as my only balance.

"That's a good white slut...take that shit." I fucking love debasing myself for my bull. My mouth starts becoming sore after being stretched wide, but I don't focus on my pain. Only his pleasure. "Fucking whore... this is all you're good for. All any of you white sluts are good for." As he rapidly approaches his climax, he pounds harder and harder into my throat, using my head and wrists as leverage.

Without warning, he slips out of my throat and releases my hands, causing me to stumble back on my knees. He wastes no time and steps up closer towards me, his cock pulsating. I look up into his eyes, completely out of breath and stroke him off; tight and fast, using my spit from the blowjob as lubrication. He grunts and mumbles out a "fuck" and his black cock shoots out cum over my face.

The first spurt hit over the bridge of my nose, over my left eyelid and across my forehead. I couldn't help but giggle like a pleased schoolgirl as I felt the heat from his cum, but he wasn't finished. The second shot hit over my upper lip, already messy from my blowjob, and across my chin. A smaller third and fourth spurt hit over my cheeks and once I finally felt his orgasm come to an end, I looked up at him.

"Shit girl," was the only thing Micah could mutter out, as he swayed on his weakened knees. I looked up with big, submissive eyes.

"Thank you for letting me give you a blowjob, sir." With that, I had finished my submissive ritual. My black bull chuckled and stumbled his way over to my couch, still naked.

"Damn, Kayleigh. I'd kill to have a pic of you like that. On your knees, dressed up, makeup fucked up, cum on your face..." I smiled. Being a state senator himself, Micah knew all too well how important it was not having photos leaked. Still, as a Queen of Spades, getting a comment like that from your black bull was some of the highest praise.

"Should I clean myself?" If I had it my way, I'd wipe up his cum with a tissue, but he's the bull in the relationship. He has it his way.

"Keep it on. You gotta clean that makeup off anyway." Following his orders, I let his cum stay on my face as I got off my knees and walked over towards the kitchen. After having my face fucked like that, I need some hydration. I grabbed a glass and filled it up with ice and water. I then opened my chrome fridge and reached for a beer. I don't drink beer. In fact, I kinda hate it. But most of the black men I knew loved it, including Micah. I waddled my way back to the couch with our drinks in hand, swaying my ass in the dress and careful to keep his cum on me. Even after we're done with sex, it didn't mean our roles change. After all, I'm the one getting him a beer, still covered in his semen.

My bull snatched the cold beer and immediately began gulping it down. I watched his Adam's apple bob up and down. Ever since we first met, during our college's orientation for political science majors, I had fallen head over heels for Micah. Normally, if a woman falls in love with a black man, she becomes a Queen and asks to have him as a bull. And that's exactly what I did. But it wasn't enough. The sex with him is great. Even on his worst nights, Micah still made me orgasm at least once. But I wanted more. I still want more. I want moments like this, him drinking a beer, still nude, and me resting on his muscle ridden chest. His cum drying on my face was not necessary (not that I minded).

As I rested, I heard Micah's voice speak up, his tone slightly muffled after hearing it through his pecs. "What did you want to talk about?"

I sighed, content with where I laid. "What makes you think I wanted something other than my bull's cock?"

Micah chuckled. "You always thinking about work. Did you want to talk to me about something going on in Las Vegas?" I smiled back. He had me pinned; I'm almost always thinking about my job. I buried the side of my head deeper into his chest and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I took a deep breath, smelling his mix of natural scent and coconut deodorant.

"I had a lunch meeting with Maxwell today..." I started, waited to hear his response.

"Oh shit! Was Sandoval there?" Micah asked, awestruck. I invited Micah over for a few reasons, but the biggest was that he could relate to me. We both worked for the state government, as well as Governor Sandoval.

"No, just the LG. But he was basically there on Sandoval's orders. And he gave me a...proposal that was really strange." I ran through everything Austin told me. The proposal, the reason, the vague threats from the wealthy. Micah stayed silent while I ran through everything.

"I mean...I've looked at the data so many times, and every sign points to Nevada being the next state to enact a statewide reparations policy. Micah, this is what I've been fighting for!" I finished, waiting for my bull to give me a response. When he didn't speak, I added in one last line. "It's like I told Maxwell, it would go against the will of the Nevada people."

"Kayleigh-" Micah interjected, soft, but firm. I lifted my head up, looking into his dark eyes. Normally, him seeing a white slut covered in cum would cause him to get excited. Or proud. Or even make him laugh. Not right now, he was deadly serious.

"This is fucked up."