What the Hell Am I Doing? Ch. 02

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Author's Note: This is a new series of stories, all of them holding at least a kernel of truth, if not more. Not all will have full-on sexual contact and/or encounters, at least as I have it planned, but I hope the reader will enjoy the feelings, and emotions, that went through my mind. That being said, there is going to be a lot of interracial sexual relations, sex with strangers, and even some violence.

Call it adultery, call it slavery, or call it submission, whatever label you choose, but unless you have a CONSTRUCTIVE comment, I'm not interested in hearing your blithering, whiney fingers scream about how I should be divorced, shot, made homeless, or abandoned. We all have enough troubles in our days without listening to your opinions on how someone should live their lives.

With that said, if you are still here, please enjoy this second installment:

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I had literally melted into the grasp of the man, his calloused hands mauling me as he continued to suckle my tongue into his mouth. My voice mewed like a kitten, and I could feel my body suddenly highly aware of my surroundings. The wafting of air across my nearly naked form, his hand holding my bra-less breast through my charmuese blouse, the sound of someone dragging luggage down the hallway. All of it served to heighten the senses as he electrified me. For now I was his slave, his toy, and in pretend, his wife. The cool metal of the necklace and charm had warmed by my body heat, and the dangling charm began to stick to one side of my cleavage, the perspiration leaking from my pores adhering the shiny words to my skin.

I was able to turn my body, fully able to face him and not break the languid surrender of that kiss, the tip of my tongue wiggling against his as his thick, dark lips suckled my tongue into his mouth. My hands hung limply still, yet my hips started to act with a mind of their own, and I began to thrust against his fully-clothed body. The rough fabric of his jeans felt hard against my blonde strip of curly dark pubic hair. If anyone had a doubt, I was a natural brunette. All they need do was look under my skirt, or in this case, simply open their eyes. I was figuring the latter would be more likely. Ben didn't allow me to wear much while I was under his control.

He finally broke the kiss, and I reluctantly and softly groaned. There was something about that initial surrender that just did it for me. A combination of arousal, desire, need, and even debauchery that just made me shiver, in a good way. Today was no different. I smiled to him, flashing the smile made of braces when I was in high school, the taunting and teasing, of 'brace-face', and 'metal mouth', and kids calling loudly, asking what station I was picking up now worth it. My smile could open doors, even get lunch for me. Now, of course, I was using it for something I wanted even more. Ben. My Master. I wanted him so badly, I could feel the first slickness gathering at my folds. He didn't waste time with his own clothing, stripping himself to full nudity even as I stood before him. His black skin, and there was no other word for it, for he was dark as coal, was sheened with his body oil, and even in the light of the room, I could see every contour of his well-toned body. He wasn't the young-buck of his physical prime, but slightly older, probably in his late-30's, that time when our lives grow busier and things such as going to the gym gave way to more urgent tasks. For me, I didn't exercise much, and didn't have the stamina of an athlete, certainly. But in his youth, I bet Ben had more muscles than many, and even as his chest sagged a little, his arms and thighs were taut and strong and the muscles that controlled his manhood were well-developed, and strong. He stood there, his hands on his hips, and his cock was hardening as he stood there, his own arousal matching my own.

My eyes dropped to watch that magnificent organ develop into the woman-tamer it was, and I was sorely tempted to drop to my knees, and give it the adoration it commanded of me, yet this time I would not give him the blowjob I was tempted with. Instead I reached to my top, delicately grasping the hem in my fingertips with crossed arms, and lifting it higher and higher, exposing the rest of my body, until it was inverted over my head, and draped down my arms. I began to twist my wrists, twirling the satiny fabric tighter until the blouse became a binding, my wrists firmly encircled and held tightly by the silky material. I held it over my head, and took a few steps around the black Adonis, and made my way onto the bed, not bothering to pull down the covers. Not that I could anyways, with my arms bound. I made my hips swivel with each step, my spiked heels helping me in my task, until I reached a corner opposite him, and I lay back, my arms over my head. Using my heels and shrugging my way, I shivered across the bed, until I was diagonally across it, and my hands were hung on the corner furthest away, as if I was tied down. I looked to Ben, who was merely watching my lascivious display, and I licked my lips with a moan. "I will fuck you or whom pleases you, as you want, and any way you want." I purred. My repeating our litany assured him of my loyalty to Him, as well as sharing my need.

The moaning and writhing of my hips, straining at the pretended helplessness of my bound wrists had evidently become a greater demand on Ben than anything else currently, and he simply clambered on the bed, his knees between mine. Laying upon me, he flexed his abdomen, and curled his knees, lifting my hips until my body was bent, and my knees were tilted back, my shins now level. Cradled like this, I was indeed now helpless, as if I would want to stop his advances. My knees parted wider for him, as he lay his equipment atop my belly, the thick, black shaft almost leering at me with its slit as my eyes were drawn to it. The feeling it on my skin, warm and pulsing, almost like an alien tentacle, was also something I relished. I had surrendered control, given everything to Ben, my passion, my lust, and soon to be, my body. My heart was hammering and my chest was heaving, my large and deep breathing made my breasts sway gently as my eyes looked up from that delicious woman-pleaser. Eyes looking deeply into his, he didn't really smile much, other than perhaps that small grin of a man knowing he is going to mate, until he broke my gaze and looked down, his body tilting up on his heels, hands reaching for that thick tool.

I let out a gasp as I first felt him, using his cock along my folds, my lubrication already evident as I had been thinking of this moment for what seemed like hours. He used that probe on me for almost a minute, if not more, my hips starting to rock on their own, my body desperate to feel him in me, and I moaned. "Please..." That made him smile, a toothy grin that showed a large gap between his upper front teeth, and a gold cap on an incisor. Applying more pressure, and aiming himself, he found my tunnel, and he began to push, building in force until my vagina yielded to him, and he first began to enter me. "Here it comes, slut." was all he would say.

My eyes rolled back into my head, and my head fell back to the bed, my back arching to help allow him entry, as well as release some of the sudden tension in my body, muscles flexing tightly. My hands suddenly clenched, knuckles white as I felt more of him enter me, and the loud guttural whine from my voice began. It was the start of my vocal litany during sex. A loud whine as I was entered, and a soft gasp as I was vacated, the frequency increasing as the man's thrusting pace quickened, until there was nothing but a loud scream in my climax. It didn't matter who I was with, from my first lover to Ben, all men including my husband made me do this. This night would be no different.

He took his own sweet time to fully enter me, and it gave me time to collect my wits and glance down and see the great contrast between our skins. My Brazilian strip of fur being the only bridge between my bikini-tanned whiteness, and his coal black darkness. My mind luxuriated in the feelings, the sight, and the conflicted emotions. What I was doing was wrong, I knew that. I was disobeying my marital vows, I was dishonoring my husband, and I was having what was, in my family anyways, taboo sex. My thoughts ended in the last thought of my cycle, and the lack of sexual safety. I was unprotected, and he was bareback in me. I figured I was safe for this trip, having recently ended my period, but one was never absolutely certain, and that added to the sexual tension, the thrill. Yes, I could wind up pregnant, the bearer of a black man's child.

I looked up in time to feel him lay down on me, his knees cradling my body between his, and his elbows collecting my shoulders from underneath. His one hand on my hair, he pulled my head back, until my lips were to his, and we licked tongues lewdly, our passions growing as he began to thrust. The kiss lasted exactly three thrusts, until my vocal emissions took over and I could do little else but writhe and cry out in his control, his he rocked his hips, fucking me. Each thrust was my body tensing, fingers clawing at the air, back arching and wriggling, making my jugs shake up and down, and side to side, my nipples already hard and making me feel a burning sensation as they brushed against his chest. My love canal began to tighten on him, and begin to massage his monstrous equipment as it repeatedly thrust in me.

I was in ecstasy, I was in pain, I was in glorious sexual pleasure, I was going out of my mind. I wanted it to end, but I needed it to last. In and out he went, and my consciousness streamed thoughts, images, feelings, and perhaps even colors. The haze of sex was overpowering, and at some point I tried to curl up as I screamed, my body having the first climax of this mating. Ben usually made me have two, if not three, just using his cock, and as soon as the first one began to reside, I had but scant seconds to recover before the next one began to build. My voice again began its serial whining, and my body was now sheathed in perspiration.

The bedding had a small stain of my lubrication leaking from the seal of my vagina and my small gush of my own orgasm, and the mattress was singing its own squeaky song. Ben's tempo began to increase and my body reacted, each of his thrusts full, fast and furious, until his hips began to spasm erratically, his own body losing control, and he began to ejaculate into me. I couldn't necessarily feel his semen spilling into my vagina so much as know he was cumming, and that knowledge was enough to make my own body have my second, longer screaming release. My arms pulled uselessly against my twirled blouse, and my heels pointed up and out at a 45 degree angle. His deep voice made guttural noises and my own softer voice began to whimper softly in tender pleasure, and I began to mew again, the kitten in me feeling full, my pussy well-sated.