Witch Love, Woman’s Love

Then, Earl grabbed her in a dominating way. He spoke using an equally dominating tone...

"All right, you, little scheming Jezebel! Time for you to get punished! Now, now, you are caught!"

As he spoke, Earl forced her to get down on all fours on the tiled floor. She obeyed willingly and seemed to wait his punishing dick.

All men watched as Earl, the middleweight who looked like an African Apollo, knelt behind her and gave her his baobab-shaped instrument of darkness!

She screamed with delight as he entered her with his thick-girthed dick and began pounding her vagina in angry thrusts of hip-fueled domination. Her legs were amazing to look at while Earl held her slim waist and kept driving the twin curves of her butt into him as he delightfully owned her.

Then, he exited her cunt and I briefly saw his dick, all coated with her hot juices, before he reentered her, but this time he strained and sunk his wet cock inside her anal rosebud.

She screamed in pain as he drove his thick shaft home inside her rectum and began gently ass-fucking her, looking up at the ceiling and closing his eyes as he reveled in her tightness.

Then, he upped his tempo and started to dish out the punishment while she whimpered in pain mixed with pleasure. The Witch had been captured and reduced, stripped of all powers, undressed and humiliated. She kept whimpering in echoing sounds of female delight, enjoying the thrashing she was receiving in the showers.

"You like to strut around the gym and tease our dicks, eh? Well, scheming girl, take this! This! This! And this! Hhrrr... hhrrr... hhhrrr... Oohh, gee, she's really something, this white strumpet!"

Then, Earl spoke no more. He went wild! He punished her long, hard and good, forcing long-winded moans and whimpers out of her. She let out a series of high-pitched groans as she hit another hard climax.

Shortly after, Earl passed his no-return point, unable to hold his load anymore; his mouth opened all the way, distorting his sleek face as he roared and dumped a long-lasting load inside Wendy's rectum, his dick beautifully hammering her like a piston right in the center of her curvy butt as he finished spilling his hot seed. Wendy bucked and bit her lips as she received his hot tribute to her beauty.

Then it was Slim Jim's turn. The wiry lightweight lifter took the petite brunette on the shower floor, lying down on top of her in simple missionary style, covering the white woman with his midnight-black frame. He hammered her hard while Henry ran his fingers in her hair and gleefully watched her jiggling breasts.

Wendy wrapped her legs around him and locked her ankles above his repeat-moving butt—her feet were an absolute bliss to watch in this position; I watched and masturbated. She moaned and moved her pelvis to take him deeper.

Slim Jim grunted in her face as he intensified his pounding. He didn't last long. He screamed like a banshee, sounding like he was about to die out of sheer pleasure and he gave Wendy what felt like a prodigious amount of African cream.

"Oh, yes! Fill me up! Fill me up! I'm nothing but filth! I'm a white whore and my purpose in life is to take chocolate-brown dicks inside me! Oohhh... The heat from your jism is my reward. Thank you, Master! I handed you the nine of Spades because being in your arms takes me to Cloud Nine."

Then it was Anvil-Face Henry's time to fill up our guest. He laid himself down on his back and Wendy straddled him with her deliciously petite body. My eyes followed the divine curves of her legs as she settled herself on the ex-con. Her little foot against his dark thigh was a joy to watch as she let herself down on his impaling dick and sat on her heels, then started moving up and down as he gently took her waist and ran his hands on her sides, up to the contours of her breasts, which he cupped as she looked down at him, smiling.

She told him he was handsome, that he was a worthy King of Clubs, that we were all handsome, casting a black-magic gaze at each of us as she let Anvil-Face Henry bounce her on his lap while kneading her breasts.

Then, I found this was too much; I could no longer stand there and just watch, no matter how amazing the show was.

I rushed at her and seconds later, I was kneeling at her left side and caressing her hip, her butt and her leg, down to her foot; I felt the firm softness of her heel and her sole, enjoy the pinkish skin tone displayed there. I laid myself down and gave countless kisses to her wonderful foot, before running my hands up her leg again.

Big James had followed suit; he was at her right side and running his meaty hands all over her body, while she kept whimpering in repeat "ah-a" sounds as she kept being drilled on Henry's lap. At this point, Henry had grabbed her waist again and he began frantically bouncing her, grunting with delight as he told her she was the queen of the jailhouse, ready to be fucked by all cons.

Her long hair moved and waved on her shoulders in lovely shiny strands of magic black while her freely moving breasts smoothly jiggled up and down in rhythm with her repeated impalement; she was biting her lip and whimpering each time she crashed down on the ex-con's dick.

While Henry picked up his pace and rammed loud moans out of the girl, I began sucking her left tit, coating her brownish red nipple with my saliva and getting my first taste of these mounds and tips that had teased my cock for far too long. My knees hurt a bit from the hard floor as I was kneeling and stooping down, but it was well worth it; I loved how her flesh firmly yielded under my mouth.

Big James was giving the same treatment to the other boob; her moaning was very close to my ears now; I felt her fingers running through my hair; she kept being bounced on Henry while Big James and I worshipped the whiteness of her breasts.

Anvil-Face Henry opened his mouth wide and vented out his raging rush as he powerfully erupted and filled her up while he kept powerfully bouncing her...

"Aaahhhrrr! The white girl! She's the jailhouse queen! The jailhouse queen... Nnngghhrrr!"

Wendy's raven head of hair bobbed aimlessly on top of her bouncing nakedness as she received his hot seed.

Lloyd replaced Henry, and soon, Wendy was bouncing on another black dick, this time it was owned by a grey-bearded man who looked like he was more than twice her age, yet he was good enough for round two. She moaned louder and wilder. Soon, she climaxed while I was still sucking her wet nipple, holding her boob and running my other hand on her silky leg.

After Lloyd had spent his load, Wendy took Big James inside her, also on top of him. She ran her small hands on his massive chest as he began punishing her with his huge manhood. She whimpered and soon went nuts. She removed her day gloves and resumed caressing his chest and shoulders.

"Mmhh... Oh yes! Oh, Big brown fella! You're so strong! So big, mmhhh... ooohhh, and you're so young! Mmhhh! Mmhhh... I love it! Oohh, I love it so much!" she purred.

I had stopped sucking her breast. I was really enjoying watching her breasts jiggle up and down as her nipples danced along with the impalements she kept receiving from the grunting young man, whose huge arms kept bouncing her lithe frame like a weightless doll.

Big James got into a mad frenzy. He urgently fucked her like the straddling cowgirl she was guest-starring as, nearly lifting her clean off him on each stroke while his savage grunts and groans mingles with her high-pitched whimpers. Before long, he filled the room with a primal scream as he burst inside Wendy, who received his load of seed in groaning bliss.

Then, our playgirl knelt and sat on her heels, using her discarded dress as a crude cushion for her knees against the ceramic tiles. Earl walked to her and she took his thick-based wiener of chocolate power in her hands, kissed the tip, then engulfed it in her mouth before looking up at him as she began giving fellatio.

Earl absolutely enjoyed her sucking action, while we all watched in awed silence as she filled the shower room with slurping sounds until the ebony lifter roared out loud and exploded inside her mouth! She swallowed his African porridge, then, he exited her and roared out another steaming bolt of icing for our lovely dairy queen. It landed square on her dainty face.

Slim Jim followed; she pleasured his coal-black dick, which was of a proud, surprising length for a man who stood five feet seven. She didn't mind the smear of cum on her cheek.

When he reached the supreme moment, he pulled out of her mouth and gleefully hot-creamed her pretty face with a massive load, in two powerful bursts—the first one landed on her forehead and spilled down the bridge of her nose, while the second one formed a glistening pool on her left cheek and trickled down her chin. Below this, her neck, her double pearl necklace and her saliva-coated breasts offered quite a sight.

I finally took my own turn. My dick was nearly bursting with hardness as I urgently knelt down behind her and gently pushed her down on all fours, her delicate knees still on the burgundy-red cushion formed by her removed garments.

I inserted my impatient dick inside her and immediately precummed as I fucked her doggy style in front of my fellow lifters, feeling the insane tightness of her vagina as I grew even larger and harder inside her walls. She took my savage pounding while resting her weight on her elbows with her cheek sliding on the ceramic floor, letting me hold her protruding butt as I pounded her with loud, victorious grunts.

I imagined she was the only woman in a group of Yankee explorers in Africa, and I was the only white man in a group of tribesmen who had greeted the white explorers in their territory by taking the woman, stripping her naked and fucking her like there was no tomorrow.

As Wendy whimpered from my repeated ramming, her soprano sounds echoed throughout the shower room; I imagined she was the female explorer moaning and filling the jungle with her sounds of delight as she was fucked by each and every tribesman.

Anvil-Face Henry knelt down in front of her. While I urgently picked up my pace as I neared my no-return point, the black muscleman—looking like a tribesman indeed—grabbed her head and inserted his throbbing dick inside her mouth.

He began fucking her face and called her a white hooker as he roared and explored her mouth with his veiny shaft, while I hit my highest stick-shift gear and pounded her like crazy as I gloriously ejaculated, feeling my legs go wobbly under me as I relieved myself and filled her up.

I sat on the floor with crossed legs and watched Wendy's distorted face while Henry was using her raven hair like handles and ramming his dick inside her mouth as fast and hard as he could without hurting her.

Anvil-Face Henry growled and shot his semen; she swallowed all of it! I realized with a rush of awe that this was the very first time I was watching a white woman swallowing the entire cum load from a black man. I was so happy to be there!

She even kissed the ex-con's dark purple glans as he exited her, forming a tiny thread of fresh semen between his midnight-black dick and her dainty mouth; her lipstick was long gone.

Then, now that she had taken two loads from each of the men and one from me, we took a shower together, where she had no shortage of soap and frictioning hands as we felt the freshness of her wet body; running my hands in her wet black hair was worth the trouble all of itself.

We all laughed and joked like old friends. Then, as all good things must come to an end, we toweled ourselves and dressed back into our street clothes. She had a spare dress—of a beautiful royal blue—in her large purse, and she put it on. With unreal speed, she made herself beautiful and glamorous again with burgundy lipstick that fit her complexion to a tee.

Once we had grabbed our jackets and our fedora hats, we headed out on the street. It was really late; well past midnight. We hopped and squeezed ourselves in Lloyd's 1942 Cadillac and he drove us to Horn & Hardart, knowing it would be open with probably not a customer in sight, as the late-night couples usually went to smaller diners at such a late hour.

"It's probably going to be only us and Old Lou; oh, I love your perfume, honey!" said Earl, who was sitting beside Wendy and cuddling her.

"Who's Lou?" she inquired.

"He's the old cleaner guy," I explained. "He's there, washing the floor and making sure no late customer is breaking the glass panes or anything; I'll introduce you; he's a great old chap!"

"Mmhh..." Wendy smiled. "Maybe this old cleaning man is going to get some extra tip tonight!"

I grinned as I kept caressing her thigh under her dress; she had dispensed herself with putting back her stockings and her bare skin was ungodly smooth after the shower.

When we got inside the H & H automat restaurant, which had a short staircase leading down to a spacious dining room, Old Lou was there all right, cleaning the floor and singing "Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah". There was no one else. He was the proverbial white-bearded, Afro-American wise man—the kind-hearted, 60-year-old man, benevolent and humble.

Yet I made no mistake; he had large hands and his arms had lots of wiry strength stored in them; such strength could be unleashed if needed. I saw him once throwing a drunk guy out; he had lifted him like a half-empty sack of potatoes.

"Hi Lou!" I said. "Meet Wendy! Wendy, this is Mr. Lou!"

Lou greeted Wendy with a fatherly grin and a humble nod, raising a straw hat that had seen better days.

"Hello, Miss! Rough company you got yourself in! Just ask me if you need help against these bad boys!" Lou replied in a joking tone.

"And you, daddy-o," he said to me, "take good care of this lady! If you don't give her the love she deserves, she can always come and see me!" he added, pointing at himself with a pressing thumb on his chest. Being called "daddy-o" in a friendly tone was one of the highest marks of acceptance a white man could get from an Afro-African man could give you.

"Oh, Mr. Lou," Wendy chimed in. "I always like to give love to wise men like you; here!"

She smooched him on the cheek, wrapping her little arms around his neck and making him smile, her silky skin brushing his white beard in the process; she looked like a pin-up girl wearing a royal-blue dress in the act of kissing an African version of Santa Claus in a beat-up jacket patched at the elbows.

I heard her breathing heavier as she smooched him and pressed herself against him, producing a surprised expression on the old man's face. He was no doubt feeling her breasts pressing against him.

Then I heard two new voices that sounded like lads...

"Did you see this? That's disgusting!"

"She kissed and hugged him; a colored* man!" (*Note: colored or negro were the usual terms for a black man in USA back then.)

We all turned and looked at the newcomers. They were two white lads double-dating with their girlfriends. They must have been about nineteen or twenty years old; the girls could have been eighteen. The guys had their varsity jackets, but the way they walked and wore their fedora hats indicated they were reaching their twenties. They also wore a white shirt and a tie under their lad's jackets.

Their girlfriends were really pretty, fair-skinned both of them.

I suddenly recognized the one with the taller guy. She wore the same dusk pink dress and dark-green cardigan she had been wearing when I spotted her on the sidewalk in front of this very restaurant eight days before. She was an alluring brunette whose face looked like it was porcelain turned to flesh. "Lucky guy!" I thought, "Maybe conservative and prejudiced, but a lucky son of a gun!"

She presently spoke to her fiancé (I noticed her engagement ring)...

"Come on, Steve! Let them be! This is my nineteenth birthday, so please, don't make trouble! Let's take our seats there..."

"Well, if I were you, Mary, I certainly wouldn't spend my nineteenth birthday near such local trash!" the other girlfriend chimed in.

She was an impish-looking blonde, the type you always saw neatly dressed with a snobbish look about her face every hour of the day. She wore a golden-yellow scarf and an expensive greatcoat, green in color, that was wide open and letting me see a navy blue sweater with a large white letter "H" in front. Her small breast shapes looked nubile.

"Oh, Ethel!" replied Mary. "Don't say such bad words about fellow human beings! You disappoint me; at twenty years old, you should know better!"

Ethel's boyfriend, who displayed all the signs of a college snob, sided against Mary: "Well, I'll say it! I'm not going to sit down and eat when such ape-men are in the same room; and the white folks who are with them are the worst!"

He spoke loud enough for us to hear. As he talked, his eyes never left Wendy. None of my friends moved nor said anything; I sensed all my fellow lifters were looking at Wendy. I looked at her; my jaw dropped. She was a blonde now! She had been so womanly to us in the showers that I had forgotten she was a witch.

"Well, handsome lad, you can leave if you want! No one's twisting you're arm, but I can tell that you would love to stay!" the suddenly blonde witch said loud and clear to Ethel's boyfriend, her words echoing through the spacious dining room.

"Come on, Robert! Let's leave!" Ethel said while pulling her tongue out at Wendy, acting like the impish snob she was.

"All right! Let's leave..." Robert said in a surprisingly reluctant tone. Steve nodded, but Mary was against leaving...

"Hey! I'm hungry and this is my birthday! This food is hot and waiting for us to drop nickels, open the glass door and help ourselves. The dining room is big enough for all of us, isn't it?"

She smiled at us, silently apologizing with a friendly, adorable face, but her three companions were dead set in their view.

"We'll have a sandwich at my parents' house, now, come on! We're leaving!" said Steve in a commanding tone. Mary looked angrily back at him.

Neither Steve nor Robert stopped gazing at the blonde witch. I could tell they were fascinated.

"None of you fellas want to leave," the Witch said. "I know it. Do you want me to tell you what's really on your mind?"

"Well, yes, Ma'am, go ahead. What's on my mind?" asked Steve in a defiant tone.

"You would love to stay here and watch some of my friends fuck your fiancée on that table here, while you and your friend are fucking me on that table over there!"

Steve's and Robert's faces turned ghostly pale. None of the girls spoke. The four sweethearts looked like they had just seen a phantom! They were no doubt already phased out by the Witch and her uncanny ability to become a blonde at the snap of her fingers.

Steve was the first to recover. He was a tall, energetic young man; perhaps he had been captain of the football team.

"Let's leave. Now!" he ordered to Mary, Robert and Ethel.

"You do not want to leave," said the Witch in her calm, confident voice.

"Oh, yes we do want to leave," replied Steve, "and we are leaving right n... Hey! My nose! What's happening?! What's happening?!"

Mary and the snobbish blonde screamed in shock and terror! Robert's jaw dropped as he held himself onto a table.

Steve's nose had grown a full six inches of length!

"What's happening, Steve?" the Witch echoed using an amused tone. "I'll tell you what's happening—you're a little dirty liar, Steve! You do want to stay here. You do want to fuck me on that table over there while you watch your pretty fiancée getting rear-ended by my friends here! This is what you really want in your heart of hearts, Steve."

"No! I would never allow such a thing!" Steve replied. "I would never even allow myself to think about... Aahhh! My nose! My nose!"