Shepherd's Pie Ch. 03

Overhead, resonating through the speakers, Chris Brown repeated the same lyric from his song, "Look at me now," which seemed rather fitting as I lay there savoring how deeply Dante devoured me with his bold, watchful eyes, reveling in his ultimate power, while Brandi leisurely continued teasing me with her marvelous tongue, driving me toward pleasure beyond reason, making me forget about the crowd of people dancing below us, ignoring my fear that someone would eventually see us, instead focused on the black, ravishing stud stroking his huge cock in front of me.

As soon as Brandi began fluttering her tongue around my clit, Dante must have instantly seen my reaction, as my ankles flexed sharply in my purple heels, clawing the edge of the sofa with my long fingernails.

"Don't let her cum yet," he said sternly. "Bring her to me."

As I looked between my legs, I could see a flicker of disappointment flash across Brandi's face, though she was careful to avoid letting Dante see it, as she slowly stood up, took me by the hand, then walked me over where Dante was sitting, leading me like an offering.

With an empty space next to him on the left, Brandi knelt on top of the cushion, with Dante between us, as I hunched down on all fours to his right. He sat there holding his cock around the base, waving it like a scepter, as I leaned down, hovering my face over it, trying not to look intimidated.

Sheepishly, I slowly went down on him, stretching my jaw as wide open as humanly possible, while nervously letting his swollen head gradually enter my warm gaping mouth. Within seconds, it was love at first suck, as I felt the thrilling sensation of his long, hard, monstrous shaft growing and throbbing inside my mouth. My head slowly descended halfway down, where I then curled my soft white fingers around the base, teaming both hand and mouth for jerking and sucking his big black cock all at once.

The music changed to a faster tempo, speeding my rhythm, as my adrenaline suddenly kicked in, aided by the blaring sirens and driving bass of ear-splitting, frenetic hip hop.

I honestly wasn't great at giving head. With tits that big, it just wasn't something I'd ever needed to practice. Still, I wasn't the type to back down from a challenge, as I fought back the urge to gag, cheeks hollowed, eyes watering, drooling and spitting everywhere.

As my rhythm steadily increased, bobbing and slurping, jerking him between my balled fist, the feeling must have been too much for him, as he suddenly grabbed me, then hoisted me over his lap, where I squealed as he suddenly impaled me straight through the hole I'd fatefully cut out of my pantyhose, stretching my walls with the ungodly thickness of his long, rigid black mast, using both hands to firmly squeeze my ass, forcing me to take all of him, while my fat, round, hose-covered asscheeks thunderously bounced up and down.

Furiously, our hips started bucking and slamming in time to the pulsating beat. I needed to squirt, as my pussy welled to the brim, with a flood of juices ready to stream out. Still, I held back, fearful of ruining Dante's tailored suit. Meanwhile, Dante took full control, gripping my hips, thrusting without mercy, seeming to penetrate inches away from my beating heart.

Gnawing my bottom lip, trying not to scream, I focused on the music, which barely muffled the violent slapping noises of our furiously colliding hips, with lyrics seeming to speaking for the handsome, black hustler vigorously pumping his huge cock inside me.

"Bitch, I'm a boss! I plan the shots!"

"I'm with the murder team! Call the cops!"

"We in this bitch! It's goin' down."

"Yeah I'm the king. Now where my mu'fuckin' crown?"

Finally, as if to show his dominance even more, he gruffly shoved me off of his lap, sending me down to the floor, where I landed in front of his slick penis, lunging toward my face, as Brandi swooped in, brushed me aside, and greedily began blowing him like I wasn't even there.

I watched with envy as Dante began pouring cum into Brandi's open mouth. She then turned and winked at me right before swallowing what looked to be an enormous load. I couldn't believe she'd willfully deprived me of something I'd clearly earned. Still, there was nothing I could do about it, as she looked back, shrugged her shoulders, then stood up with remnants of Dante's semen dangling from her chin.

"Sorry," she said meekly. "I get carried away sometimes. I like you though," she added smiling again. "You really know how to fuck."

"Yeah, she does," Dante said, rubbing his light beard. "I was just thinking we could use a new white girl," he added. Brandi nodded her head.

"We should take her to Mr. Riley," she said. "See what he thinks."

On that note, Dante stood up, zipped his fly, and then firmly lifted me off the floor.

"Come with me," he said, leading me by the hand.

"Where are we going?" I asked, hustling to keep up, struggling to pull down my dress.

He didn't answer as he briskly continued walking toward another room behind the upstairs bar.

My mind was still cloudy. Yet, I knew the worst thing I could possibly do was allow him to see any visible sign of fear or weakness.

We stepped through the door, with Brandi following right behind. My eyes needed a moment to adjust to the overhead light, which was far brighter than the dimly lit nightclub left behind.

Sitting there on a black leather couch, surrounded by half naked cage dancers changing outfits, was a large, dark-skinned wooly mammoth, wearing dark sunglasses, with long dreadlocks, like a giant sequoia, in a brown sweater, with pockmarks all over his pudgy face.

The room reeked with the sour scent of marijuana, with a pair of rubber trees against the wall, on either side of the couch, a hard, tan, dusty linoleum floor, and tables with lighted mirrors for the girls to put on their make-up.

"Who is this?" said the man on the couch in a thick Jamaican accent, while behind me, the opening drone of "Rack City," reverberated through the dressing room door.

"New girl," Dante answered, "thought we might put her on the party circuit."

For a moment, the second man didn't speak, taking a moment to look me over through his sunglasses.

"Risky," he finally said, leaning back, "looks good though. What's your name darlin'?"

"Um, it's Cynthia," I said, stuttering a bit. "You must be Mr. Riley."

He answered with a short nod, grunting under his breath. "Cornelius," he replied, raising his right hand, calmly sipping on a brown beverage in a half-empty brandy snifter. "How long you been in the business?"

"The business," I repeated, squinting back at him. "You mean nursing?"

"No, darlin'," he said grinning. "I mean the oldest business," he added, turning to Dante with a puzzled look on his face. "Where you find this girl? She lime green brudda. You don't see that? You think you can take any girl and put her to work. All I see is another white girl who'll end up runnin' back wherever she bought dem fancy shoes."

Feeling the tension, I decided to try politely excusing myself. "Listen, I'm sorry," I said nicely. "I'm really not looking for anyone to put me to work. It's a nice offer, but I really should get going or my husband will start to worry."

Turning to leave, Dante suddenly grabbed my arm, spinning me back, facing his fearsome boss.

"Listen, shorty," Dante said, gritting his teeth. "You're a long way from the suburbs. So don't try to front like we don't know what you uptown girls want from us."

I started to panic, noting the change in temper seething through his dark brown eyes.

"Okay, I'll hang out for a bit," I said, trying to keep my composure. "So what's this party circuit? I mean, as long as I have a sitter, it might be fun..."

"Slow down, baby," Dante said. "First, we need your measurements. Then we send pictures to all the guests."

"Oh," I said, calling out my stats. "Well, um, I'm 5'3," I willingly offered, before shamefully lowering my voice. "My weight is around 135, 140," I added, voice perking up again. "My tits fluctuate between 38EE or FF, all depends," I said shrugging.

I turned back to Cornelius who sat there slowly nodding his head. "And what about the rest?"

I looked back, shaking my head.

"Brandi, get the tape," Dante said, waving his hand. Then Brandi walked over to one of the tables with the lighted mirrors, promptly returning with a yellow tape measure, handing it to Dante.

For a moment, I stood there while Dante proceeded to measure my whole figure: bust, waist, and hips.

"38-32-42," he said, nodding with approval. "I think we can use her."

Standing there under the bright lights, I looked over toward the black leather sofa, where Cornelius was already starting to rub his bulging hard-on, which visibly extended several inches down the right leg of his tan pleated pants.

At that moment, I honestly couldn't deny how wet I was, though I was beginning to question if Dante and I would ever get back to Joel.

Suddenly, Cornelius pulled out his cock. It was dark, thick, and stumpy, like a one-eyed hedgehog, poking through his open fly.

"Come here, darlin," he offered invitingly. "Come take a seat."

I paused for a minute, contemplating my next move.

Growing up in a city as racially segregated as Boston, my older brothers used to constantly warn me that white girls from nice middle-class families never went out and purposely fucked black guys, which was something considered way sluttier and far more shameful than just being an everyday, common whore.

Nonetheless, I'd already fucked Dante right there inside the club, so I figured my place in hell was pretty well secured. Thus, in order to complete my induction as a certified white trash slut, I might as well go ahead and fuck Mr. Riley, especially if Dante had no intention of finishing what he'd started.

With renewed confidence, I slowly made my approach, heels clicking against the tile, as Cornelius sat there eyeing me silently, hands by his sides, with his hard, chubby, black prick sprouting up between his legs, stiff as a board.

Standing between his legs, he gestured for me to pull down my dress, which I then proceeded to carefully peel down over each shoulder. With a bit of effort, the stretchy fabric slid down over my massive tits, as he looked up, smiling with approval.

"Turn around darlin'" he asked me nicely. Then I graciously responded, teasing him with a slow, casual 180, upon which I felt his hands reach over and slowly peel up my dress. He then caught me off guard, as he reached out and violently ripped my new pantyhose, tearing the nylon like tissue paper, leaving a hole wide enough to ventilate my white, naked, 42-inch ass.

"Drop it low, darlin'," I heard him say, as his hands spread apart my cheeks. Then I sank down right above his crotch, blindly attempting to line up his rock hard dick for entry.

I reached down between my legs, gripping his shaft, gently guiding it toward my slit.

"Not there darlin'" he said, as I realized he actually wanted to fuck my ass.

I swallowed briefly, shifting a bit to make the adjustment. Yet, apparently, I moved too slow, wincing as I felt his cock spear through my rectum like a hot poker.

"Huhhhhh!" I shouted, gasping in shock. "Hmmrrggh hunnggaawdd...hold on...wait...ohhh fuuucckkk... your cock...oh God, your cock...it's too big...it's too BIG for my ASS!!!"

All at once, my flesh started burning from the inside out. By then, there was no stopping the blunt force trauma my asshole was sure to endure. His hands clawed my hips like King Kong, strong, massive, leaving no chance for escape. Still, I knew he was simply trying to see if he could break me. So I bit down, clenching my eyelids to block the pain while he ravaged me, knowing my battered anus had always been spongy enough to hopefully adjust.

Using my sudden rage, I reached down and viciously dug my sharp nails into his giant thighs. "Fuck it!" I screamed. "Fuck my ass, goddamn it!"

Finally, as expected, the pain gradually subsided, as I looked over and noticed Dante quietly observing, watching without judgment, as if almost daring me to see how far I was willing to go.

"You like that?" I yelled, twerking my asscheeks up and down. "You like fucking this white girl's ass? Does it make it you feel like a man? Well, go on, fuck it! Fuck my white ass! Fuck me with your big black cock!"

Hearing all of the X-rated filth, spilling so naturally from my mouth, only excited me even more. Riding reverse cowgirl, I worked every inch of his manly cock, bouncing and swiveling, feeling it throb as I sank down, taking it balls deep, then popping up and jiggling my asscheeks around the head, showing them both I could put on one helluva show, leaning back, kicking out my legs, just to feel Dante's boss mauling my soft, fleshy tits, as he reached up and roughly began squeezing them with both of his strong, black, monstrous hands.

Finally, the thrill of being there, in that bright, cluttered, rank smelling dressing room, with a couple of known gangsters, getting royally fucked in the ass, was simply too much for me to wrap my head around, as I went from being just another ordinary suburban housewife, to finally embracing my true inner slut.

Stupendously overwhelmed by my own fiendish capacity for wantonly taking rampant black horse cock up the ass, I reached down, flat fingered, viciously assaulting my clit, speed-rubbing the swollen knob, buffing it like an old shoe, as I launched pussy juice clear across the room, moaning like a wounded stray, motor skills giving way to short, sharp, involuntary spasms, which only got harder and more orgasmic with each new powerful contraction, urgently coaxing the huge cock wedged inside my bowels to instantly start flooding my gaping asshole with a hot, wonderful injection of hard, spewing black nut.

Weak, breathless, and visibly shaking like a leaf, Dante stepped over, helping me to my feet, before calmly walking me toward the door.

As I looked around, I noticed Brandi and a couple of other dancers, all of them speechless, silenced by my lewd display.

"I have to say that was pretty impressive," Dante remarked, casually leading me out. "Apparently, there's a package I have to pick up. So, unfortunately, we'll have to continue this another time.

"Um, okay," I said, blinking as I got my bearings. "So when will I see you again?"

"Soon," he said, holding the door open. "I know how to find you," he added, turning to Brandi with more instructions. "Go find the girls," he said, swinging his left arm, shooing us out. "Tell college boy to see that our friend Cynthia gets home."

* * *

Byron and I left the club shortly thereafter. As he walked me back through the main entrance, the look on his face told me he was deeply concerned.

"I noticed you were gone for a while," he said, as we stood outside waiting for his car. "Did something happen? Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," I said, choosing to maintain the illusion that I was completely unfazed, which was actually quite difficult, especially in a crowded nightclub, with a bruised anus and cum dripping down my leg, trying to walk normally in six-inch heels. Eventually, I thanked heaven to finally be standing still.

Checking my cell, I saw that I had three missed calls. I immediately texted my husband to let him know I was on my way home.

"Joel's probably worried sick," I said, as the valet pulled up with Byron's car. "I really appreciate you doing this for me."

"No problem," Byron said, helping me into my seat. "I'm just happy you didn't forget about me," he added, before closing the door.

The ride home was relatively quiet compared to the din of Oasis, providing me with time to ask myself how everything had gone so wrong. I knew Joel was waiting at home expecting me to come back with Dante. My pussy tingled from my realization that Byron was needed for something way more crucial than bringing me back home.

"Listen, I don't know what happened back there," Byron said, turning down the music. "But as far as I'm concerned, a white woman as fine as you should never have to turn to a crazy motherfucker like Dante if all you're looking for is some dark meat. No offense."

"None taken," I answered, as I leaned over and brushed my fingers down his right bicep. "Actually, um...I was just about to ask if you wouldn't mind doing me a really huge favor..."

* * *

Ten minutes later, we busted into my bedroom, tearing each other's clothes off like they were on fire. Before the frenzy, I'd already told Byron that Joel was there hiding in the walk-in closet, waiting to film me being fucked by another man.

Apparently, the fact that Byron knew Joel was watching inspired a hard-on more like a lead pipe, as he picked me up, arms over his broad shoulders, locking his huge hands beneath my ass, heels hovering three feet off the floor, with nothing else covering my naked body but sheer-to-waist pantyhose, thankfully ripped open for Byron to drill my pussy with his thick, black, outrageously humungous cock.

In spite of its extraordinary length and girth, my sopping wet pussy was uniquely primed for insertion, offering no resistance, aided by the wetness induced by the realization that my husband evidently had no objection to the sight of his wife getting thoroughly impaled by the same man he'd hired to lay pipe around the house, not in his wife.

Soon, he was hoisting me up and down, bearing my weight with virtually no effort, tits flopping up and down between us, angled sideways, giving Joel a clear profile shot for the camera, with my blonde hair swinging behind my head, and a font of juices already starting to seep out and puddle between our feet.

He then carried me toward the bed, laying me down lengthwise, gripping my ankles, heels up in the air. He then began working his hips, churning and thrusting with surgical precision, barely sweating at all, with his long, sturdy, black dick railing me like a locomotive, fucking me till I started speaking in tongues.

"Unngggawwwddd huhh huhh hmm yesss fuck me!" I screamed in his face. "Fuck me you son of a bitch! Fuck my slutty wet cunt!"

The dirtier I talked, the harder Byron's cock slammed into me, making me want to do even more to stoke his burning arousal. I reached down and rubbed my clit, adding another visual to go with my huge, rollicking tits.

"Mmmmm that's it," I moaned seductively. "Slam that dick in there. Tear me open. Fuck me with that big black cock!"

Clearly, he liked hearing that, flipping me over and aggressively grabbing my hips, literally making me weep with pleasure as he brutally started pummeling me from behind.

"OOOHH-F-F-F-UUUCCCKKK!" I cried out euphorically, feeling his balls slap against my clit, nails digging painfully deep into the soft flesh around my narrow waist, with pleasure only surpassed by the ultimate feeling of Byron pulling his cock out, shoving in two fingers, then rapidly jabbing them against my G-spot, till I literally went cross eyed, blinded by the mind numbing head rush, screaming and squirting, screaming and squirting again, every scream louder, each squirt releasing more juices than the last, till finally I lost count of how many times I must have cum.

Using the liquid splattered all over his hand, Byron then jerked himself off, holding me face down, ass up, glazing the tattered pantyhose stretched over the rounded humps of my fleshy, white, upturned asscheeks, with my final orgasm blissfully accompanied by the dreamy sensation of warm semen trickling down the crack of my ass.

Making a graceful exit, Byron tenderly kissed me goodnight, leaving me there lying on my back, where moments later, I watched as my naked husband quietly exited the closet.

By the edge of the bed, he stood over me, reaching down to rub my pantyhose. His cock never looked so hard, swollen to a bright purple, with the eye flaring wide open at the bulbous tip.