Submitting to the New Reality

I recently had one of my favorite men over and asked him to tell me a fantasy about the two of us that he hadn't shared before. I was highly aroused by this one, and I wrote it down as a story, from his perspective. Hoping to bring this scenario closer to reality in the not-so-distant future... :)

I arrive at your place on a black Wednesday night in November. It's pouring so hard that I took a cab over. I buzz your number and it rings five times.

Finally you answer, your voice hard and mocking: "I'm not buzzing you in tonight. You can go around the back." The line goes dead.

I can feel a kind of throbbing, trance-like heat at the back of my head as I process your words. And obey.

The cuffs of my jeans are wet from wading through your garden as I reach your back patio. The glass door is ajar. I stop for a moment and stare through the glass.

You're reclining on the couch with a glass of red wine in your hand. You've put on big gold hoop earrings, and your delicious, ample breasts are barely restrained in your leopard-print dress. On your right ankle, charms dangle from an anklet, just above a small, freshly inked tattoo.

All of this is on full display for the young, well-muscled black man in a form-fitting red T-shirt with a Portugal soccer logo, who's sitting right next to you. You're smiling, laughing, and flirting. Even outside on the patio, I can feel the physical chemistry, something raw and palpable.

Again, that throbbing, trance-like heat comes over me, flooding down from the back of my head and making my cock stiffen.

I open the door and step over the threshold. Your expression shifts to something new: cold, hard, commanding.

"There you are. I expected you 20 minutes ago," you say flatly.

"There was some road work on Main Street. Bit of a traffic jam."

"Well, that's not my concern. Take off your shoes and get my guest another beer."

The young black man hasn't said a word, just sizing me up, apparently expecting my presence. I can feel two sets of eyes on me as I go to the fridge.

The last can of Emerald Crown Lager is tucked right at the back and I have to move some jars to get it out. I ask: "Would you like a glass?"

There's no reply, but I hear murmurs and a deep sigh of pleasure. I stand up and see you on the couch, passionately and aggressively French-kissing your new partner. His hands cup and squeeze your tits, as your tongues intertwine. As you stick your tongue out fully to slurp and swallow his saliva, your eyes shift to meet mine, commanding the audience that you fully deserve for your exhibitionism.

At length, you pull away. Again, I can feel that intense ambience of arousal.

"He'll take a glass," you tell me. "I suppose it's time for introductions. This is Alex. He's 26. He's completing his Master's degree in public health and policy at UW and will be returning to Barbados in May. So it's a very busy time for him -- but not too busy to connect with me on the app."

"Not at all," Alex tells you with a smile. His Barbados accent is very light, but I can hear the "t's" verging on "d's." "Your ad was the fulfillment of so many fantasies I've had since I was a teenager growing up in Bridgetown."

I place the glass of beer on your coffee table and kneel on the carpet nearby.

"Alex had a summer job handling luggage at the cruise terminal," you inform me. "Our tastes are formed early, aren't they? And there's just something magical about white women with young black men."

"Yes -- when it's the right white woman," Alex says. "I knew from the moment your ad came up on my phone that I had to meet you. I had to find out more. I wanted nothing more than to be with you."

"The feeling was -- and is -- mutual," you tell Alex. "I tell you what: after this, it's going to be hard to go back to some fuckin' white boy."

You laugh with open, vicious contempt and make direct eye contact with me on the floor before leaning in for another passionate kiss with Alex. As your lips meet, you calmly, deliberately, and unambiguously raise your middle finger to me. Your arm is fully outstretched to make sure I absorb the full weight and power of your message: "Fuck you, white boy."

My cock is so hard from the way you own and control the room, taking what you want from Alex physically and forcing me to submit mentally.

You shift to the end of the couch and beckon me to approach. "One thing this white boy does good is foot worship. Want a demonstration?"

Alex nods and moves closer to watch. You extend your right foot for me. I kneel at the end of your couch, cupping and squeezing your heel before working the length of your perfect sole with my firm thumbs. You grunt with fully deserved pleasure. There's something that registers with me as I gaze at your foot and ankle -- although part of me knew it all along.

You hike up your leopard-print dress just enough to give me a glimpse of your hairy cunt. I know you want to control and torment me with thoughts of whether Alex fucked you before I arrived tonight, whether your cunt is full of his cum right now.

My eyes drift back to your foot and ankle. You've gotten a new pedicure -- shiny black nails. And the tattoo -- it's a tiny black spade framed by the letters: "Q, O, S." Queen of Spades.

I continue to massage your foot as I lower my mouth to your toes and obediently take as much of your foot into my mouth as I can. You grimace with satisfaction.

"This motherfucker is addicted to my pedicure," you tell Alex. "Always has been, always will be."

"That's a white boy for you," Alex says. "Exactly how it's got to be."

"And now he's seeing me come into who I really am. I consider myself to be a Queen of Spades. And I deserve more pleasure than any woman has ever had. I want to be the center of attention. I deserve to be treated like the Queen I am, and I'm going to get fucked by real black men. Whenever the fuck I want!"

I can feel pre-cum leaking into my underwear as I submit to the new reality. Worshipping your body and your words as I suck your foot in deep.

"You got that message, right?" you say. "Why don't you repeat that back to me so that me and our guest are real fuckin' clear on where you stand, white boy?"

I carefully slide your foot out of my mouth. "You deserve to be treated like the Queen you are, and you're going to get fucked by real black men. Whenever the fuck you want."

"That's a good boy. Now finish off Mama's foot massage. I've got more work for you."

You turn your attention to Alex as I massage your left foot, giving all the energy and focus I can to your pleasure while you enjoy yourself with your new, young black partner.

"God, I would have fucked you years ago if we'd met in Barbados," you tell him. "I had an overwhelming response to my ad, but I always make sure I get nothing but the best. Which is why I've been enjoying your beautiful body to the full this week before you have exams."

I finish massaging your left foot, and you turn curtly to me. "Take off all your clothes now. I want you naked."

I obey your order. Meanwhile, Alex casually pulls off his red shirt, revealing his hard, defined arms and abs. You lustfully trace your fingertips over his torso.

"I have selfish reasons for what I'm about to do," you tell me. "I want you to give Alex a foot massage as well. Right now."

Alex extends his right foot and I get to work as you watch with unabashed pleasure.

"You weren't kidding," Alex tells you. "This feels good. He's got great hands."

"I make sure he stays busy," you reply. Turning back to me, you say flatly: "You must be wondering about what happened this week. Well, I'm going to tell you."

Alex laughs. "There's a lot to tell!"

"How true," you say. "Monday night might be all this white boy can handle. Alex and I met for dinner at the new Yard House in West Seattle. Very anonymous, booth right back at the back. This fuckin' little 19-year-old waitress was hitting on Alex from the start, but he didn't want to know. After she took our orders, I took him into the nearest toilet stall. You know how much I love toilet sex, don't you? And you know how much I love to suck big black cock."

"That felt fucking unbelievable," Alex says. "What you did to me -- I've never come like that, even when I was a teenager in Bridgetown, just beating off to dreams of women like you."

"I did it all for my own pleasure," you say, watching approvingly as I work Alex's foot. The bulge in his jeans is very apparent. "I love sucking black cock and swallowing black come. But there's just something extra-special when the Queen gets her freak on in a toilet stall, isn't there? You should know."

"Rumor has it toilet sex is a little different when this white boy is involved," Alex says with a smile. "Fuck, keep going. Do my other foot."

You continue caressing Alex's chest, arms, and abs, the contrast of your soft whiteness so visible against his black skin. "I told Alex about your white-boy piss fetish. How I keep you in your place. How does that make you feel?"

"Humiliated," I reply. "And fully ready to serve you."

You pull up your skirt and openly toy with your clit, relishing every moment, the pleasure on your face impossible to mistake.

"I've been thinking about this ever since Alex and I connected for that first coffee. Getting exactly what I want, need, and deserve. The perfect combination of big black cock and white-boy service."

Alex confidently unzips his jeans. "I'm sure glad I laid it all out there when I contacted you on the app."

You explain: "Alex revealed that he enjoys receptive oral bi service. Do you know what that means?"

Alex reaches for your hand as the two of you present a powerful, united front. "It means you're going to suck my big black cock now."

"You do it or you get the fuck out of my house right now," you say. "Got it?"

I nod obediently, the heat throbbing hard through my entire body now and my cock jutting out stiffly between my thighs. I move the coffee table aside so I can have easy access to Alex's hard-on and give you exactly what you want.

You begin rubbing your cunt up and down crudely as I bring my face closer. Alex has a beautiful cock: long, girthy, a big vein running up the side, coarse black pubic hair neatly trimmed. His cock curves slightly upward. He's uncircumcised and his foreskin has retracted fully, a trail of pre-cum trickling from the tip from the combined arousal of French-kissing you and receiving foot service from me.

"Do it," you order me. "Suck that big black cock. Suck Alex's fat hard-on and get it ready for my cunt. I'm going to fuck him right in front of you and you're going to watch."

"Yes," I respond. "I'm going to do it. I need to worship black cock for you."

I open my mouth and take Alex's length in. It feels fucking amazing. So hard, so full, so overwhelming. I can see the look of absolute triumph on your face as you rub your clit and edge yourself, enjoying this moment to the utmost.

"Yeah, fuck, that's good," Alex gasps. "How does it feel to suck my big, black cock, white boy?"

You reach over and grab me by the hair. "This white boy can take more black cock. Can't you, boy?" Without waiting for an answer, you push my head further down Alex's black cock, frigging yourself all the while.

I can feel your power and I just want to please you so much. My cock is dripping from giving you what you want to see, hear, and feel.

I cup Alex's balls with my left hand. Handling an uncircumcised cock is second nature to me. I wrap my right hand around his big, black cock and start to jack him directly into my mouth as I tease the underside of his fat black cockhead with my tongue.

"Motherfucker!" Alex groans. "That feels amazing."

You shift and put your ankle right next to my face so I can see your Queen of Spades tattoo. "Never fuckin' forget, white boy -- this is the reason why you're sucking that big black cock. You're sucking that big black cock for me. You're getting that big black cock ready for the Queen's white cunt. You're making me so fucking wet for the best fuck of my life with a real man from Barbados, a real black man with a big black cock."

I'm submitting to the new reality. I'm hypnotized by the absolute force in your voice, ready to obey and serve you fully. I can feel Alex starting to mount up toward orgasm, but I know all that black cum in his black balls belongs in your perfect cunt.

You can sense it too. You reach out and grab me by the hair again. "Get off that cock. Get the fuck out of my way, white boy. It's time for Mama to get her fuck on."

Obediently, I slide Alex's big black cock out of my mouth. You stand up and pull off your leopard-print dress, standing fully naked in queenly command. Alex stands and removes his jeans and underwear as well. You grab him by the hand and take him to your bedroom. I follow and watch. The light is on in the bathroom, so I can see everything.

Alex lies back on the bed with his curved hard-on standing up. You straddle over him and ease his big black cock into your soaked cunt. You groan loudly with the satisfaction of being filled like that. You look back at me over your shoulder.

"Get close to the bed," you tell me. "Get right in here! You're going to suck my tits while I ride Alex's big black cock."

Your ass slaps loudly against his black skin as you fuck him hard right in front of me. I lean to suck your right nipple and rub your left nipple the way you've trained me.

You're in a state of total arousal from fucking black cock hard and being the center of attention with two men. You deserve all of it. I'm so fucking aroused from serving you and my hard-on is pressing into your stomach.

"Now shoot your come on me, white boy," you gasp.

As you ride Alex hard, using his hard abs to rub your clit on, I take my fuckmeat and beat it for you. I want to worship you with my come. I can feel it welling up from my balls as I focus fully on pleasing you. As the first unexpectedly big jet shoots out, dripping off the side of your tits and on to Alex, you begin to let out the loud, guttural cries that herald your orgasm. I know Alex's big curved black cock is hitting your G-spot and the feeling of my cream is pushing you over.

Alex yells out: "Oh fuck, I'm going to come! I'm going to come inside your cunt!" He lets go as you continue to ride him to the fuckin' finale of your own orgasm. I keep on beating, shooting, and wiping as much white-boy come as I can give you.

In the end, we're all on the bed. You lie in the middle, finally satiated, but only for now. The rain is drumming against the windows in the blackness outside. Through my post-orgasmic fog, I wonder what words will come out of your mouth next.

You stir and turn to me. In this moment, I can sense that all your energy and attention is focused on me, even though Alex is right there. You kiss me on the mouth and smile and whisper: "I'm proud of you."

Then you lie back with a contented sigh.

Two minutes later, you turn to me again. "And now, I think it's about time for your clean-up duty."