Leasa's Snatch

This story is dedicated to the hottest bitch online—leasaj! Her stories brought this old man’s black dick back to life!!!

*****

I can remember the first time I saw the gorgeous bitch walking across the parking lot of the software firm in which we both work. She was everything I had ever dreamed of: blonde, blue eyed; tall, but not too tall; slender, but stacked like the proverbial “brick shithouse;” and an exquisite face. She was a beauty. Easily the finest piece of ass in the whole company—and at this location we must have had at least 600 employees.

I remember seeing her now and then walking out to her little, red Mustang convertible. It was obvious that she thought the car was cute. It was a Silicon Valley wife’s way of slumming. Her husband drove a BMW, but she wanted to show her common touch.

I was a programmer at the firm. At 63, I could barely afford my ten-year-old beetle. But Leasa Jons was in Marketing. In fact, she was a Product Marketing Manager. Barely 29 or 30 she was already making a lot more than old Rodney was and, quite frankly, it pissed me off.

Leasa often came over to the Development Dept. and, with that kind of high class finesse women of wealth often exude, she’d diplomatically throw her weight around. She’d have us changing all kinds of things we were almost done with causing us to have to put in a lot of night work.

No doubt about it, at times I hated her classy white bread manners and the power she had over me. Shit! I was old enough to be her daddy, yet I had to stand there and listen to her condescendingly tell me how my work was, “coming along.” Yeah, I’d like to get this bitch, “cumming along,” I’d often find myself thinking. Right at the end of my 10” pole.

Well, one day I see this gorgeous, but haughty, little bitch walking to her car out in our lot, and I figure I ought to take a chance. Why not, I thought. I’ve always been pretty good with the women. Growing up in Mississippi, never had the chance of landing a white one—and especially a white one like this beauty—but, as they say, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” I was determined to take the chance.

Besides, I had always heard this rumor that the little bitch might have some secret thing for black men, although, I do admit, I’d always written that off to some brother’s bullshit, wishful thinking.

Well, I’d had enough of just thinking about what Leasa Jons might be like in the rack. I was ready to, “Just Do It!” The worst that could happen is, I at least experience a few close moments talking to her outside of the work situation, and breathe in some of her heavenly perfume.

“Hey, Leasa! Rodney Smith from the Development Dept., remember me? Hey, could you give me a lift over to my car? Forgot I left it on the other side of the building.”

Boy, I knew that was a weak excuse, but I didn’t really have forewarning of bumping into her on this particular day.

“Ummm...gee, I wasn’t really going that way,” she started backing me off. But sometimes the gods are with you. I suddenly felt very confident with this beautiful creature, can’t explain why, but I just knew it was to be Rodney’s day.

“Hey,” I pressed her, “ Can’t make an old man walk all that way, can you?” I said it with a big grin on my face.

“Well, since you put it that way,” she grinned back, and then got in the car signaling for me to do the same.

As I got in on my side, I couldn’t help but take a nice long look over at her long slender legs as the little, black dress she was wearing rode way up near the top of her thighs. She definitely noticed all this without even looking over, and immediately struggled with one hand to pull the garment back down a bit.

My dick was already stiffening. This girl was everything I’d ever jerked off dreaming about. Blonde, beautiful, very built, very well bred, and very white. As she put her shades on, I thought, this bitch could be in the movies. I also noticed that little dress of her’s kept riding back up those long thighs again.

There is nothing like watching a gorgeous woman’s thighs spread the way they have to as they work the pedals of a car. I loved it. And I could tell she didn’t. This just made me love it more. She knew I was looking and it made her uppity little ass uncomfortable. Man, I could see the discomfort, and it was just making me hotter and more confident with each passing minute. I was no longer some old black man who worked for her. I was a man—period. And she was a woman. And we were sitting side-by-side in a little red convertible sporting around the parking lot.

Man, I wished all the bro’s I’d grown up with in Mississippi could see me at that moment. They’d have eaten their hearts out, man.

“May I say, Leasa, you really do have lovely legs,” I casually said to her. Looking straight ahead, very suave, if I do say so myself.

Man, did she turn red at that statement. Didn’t think I could fluster a beauty like her so easily. But I guess she never had a 6’5”, 63-year-old black man drop a line like that on her before. Man, I was loving it. All that poised, bullshit demeanor of her’s kind of melted away—but fast! Now, I was the man, and she--she was just a little girl. The way it should be!

“Uhhh...thank you, Rodney,” she said. But her voice was kind of trembling. She was a nervous, little thing all of a sudden.

“Your husband is one lucky man, sweetheart,” I was on a roll now! Wasn’t gonna let up for nothing now.

“Well, Rodney...that’s very nice of you to say, but...”

“Well, it’s true! Your legs are fantastic. You’re really pretty fantastic all the way around, Leasa. And that’s no bullshit.” I was pushing it to the edge now. But somehow I knew it was now or never. I may never get a shot like this again. When you do, you better go for it.

“Rod...um...where is your car are we close yet?”

Now to most guys this mighta sounded like the girl was wanting to get rid of this big black man toolin’ around with her. But did you get the, “Rod”. Sure did lose some formality all of a sudden, didn’t we? Well, I noticed it, big time.

“I hope not,” I kidded her with a big disarming grin. She blushed and tried to look away. Unbelievable, I thought, I got this hot, little thing goin’.

“You know, Leasa, I really gotta tell you somethin’,” I said to her—in my most sincere, (bullshit) voice—“I have always found you to be the most gorgeous thing in the walls of that big building we toil in every day.”

Shit, she just lit up. She tried to fight off a big grin, and then even turned away, like she was looking in the side view mirror, to avoid showing me how much she was just lovin’ this bullshit I was feedin’ her. But man, they’re all alike. Can’t resist hearin’ any kind of bullshit about how great or beautiful they are. Nope! Don’t question it a bit. Just take the crap hook, line, and sinker.

“Rod, really...I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I mean that, really. I just don’t hear that enough,” well, I was pickin’ up the signals loud and clear now.

“You don’t!!! Is your husband blind, or just stupid!!!” I was takin’ a chance here of offending her by insulting her hubby, but, hey, why not? I was in the home stretch here of gettin’ inside her head, and I was gonna make my break.

“Well...gee,...I’ve never had a guy...be so forward,” she stumbled over her words.

“Gosh, I’m sorry, Leasa...Mrs. Jons. I really didn’t mean to be offensive.” I was really pourin’ on the bullshit now.

“It’s “Leasa”, Rod. That’s ok. I’m flattered, really. You certainly have a way with words.” Yeah, sure I did. As long as I was tellin’ her she was the hottest thing on the planet, I was Lord-Fuckin’-Byron to her.

Unfortunately, at this point we did pull up to my car. But I was going for broke here—for broke!

As I climbed out of the car and shut the door, I leaned over half back into the thing and said, “Hey Leasa, thanks so much for the lift. One good deed deserves another. Let me take you for a drink before you split tonight.”

“Oh Rod, I couldn’t. My husband expects me home in the next hour and...”

“Oh yeah, forgot about the guy who never compliments you.”

“Well, he’s just not very expressive, and...”

“Oh come on. One drink! Make my day, beautiful.” Boy did that get her. Here's this fuckin’ phenomenal looking woman--and just a sucker for a compliment. Her sexless, white boy husband left her hard up for this shit. And by doing so he left her completely defenseless to its narcotic effect.

“Well, ok...just one. I suppose there’s nothing wrong with that,” she smiled up at me—like a fuckin’ goddess. I was thinkin’ maybe Aphrodite.

Interesting enough, I know she noticed me checking her legs out again. But this time she didn’t pull the short dress back down to cover what I was looking at. And the skirt was now hiked well up to the top of her thighs, almost up to her hips. She also didn’t close her thighs from that spread position they’d taken as she worked the pedals of the car. In fact, as she agreed to go with me for a drink, I could swear I saw them relax and spread slightly, as if she were subconsciously “opening up” to me.

“Great! Meet me at Johnny’s. It’s just a short drive away. East Palo Alto. Follow me.”

I said it all too quick for her to question it. Then I tooled off with the hottest babe I’d ever set eyes on, followin’ me into one of the roughest sections of the hood in Silicon Valley. I just loved the look on her face as we drove into the section of East Palo Alto where Johnny’s was. When we got there I pulled into the parking lot with this blonde nymph on my tail.

We got out and she looked a little nervous. But I just nonchalantly put my arm around her and led her in the back door.

As we stepped inside, I could feel Leasa allow me to more assertively put my arm around her. She was a little frightened by the neighborhood and the looks of the bar. It caused her to react like a little chick tucking itself under a mother bird’s wing—‘cept I was no ‘mother bird’.

The place was old, seedy, and pretty empty. There were four old bros at the bar—and when I say old, I mean older than even me—two old men at the pool table, and the bartender, himself an old-timer. This was a bar for older black men who were down on their luck at a bad time to be ‘down on your luck’, i.e., late in life. I thought, well maybe today their luck had changed, along with old Rodney’s.

All eyes watched us cross the bar to a table near the back. These old boys weren’t used to seeing any white woman in this place, much less one who looked like Leasa. And they certainly weren’t used to seeing some gorgeous young blonde under the ‘wing’ of a sixty-ish black man. Curiosity would be an understatement. You could say they were pretty riveted on what was happening here.

Leasa and I slid into a booth. I conservatively sat across from her and ordered her some white wine while I had a Johnny Walker. We shot the shit lightly at first, about work and such, until I changed subjects:

“You know Leasa, I want to apologize for being so forward back there in the parking lot. I was really way out of line,” I said, totally full of shit.

“Hey Rod, it’s ok. I liked it. I guess I just don’t hear enough of that...even at home,” she said wistfully, and glancing down, like women do when they go into their unconscious preening behavior.

“Well, Leasa, you’re the kind of woman who should hear it much, much more,” I said as I reached out and folded her little hand into mine, rubbing her wedding ring with my thumb, “You really are absolutely beautiful.”

With this comment, her hand reacted by gently squeezing mine. To me it was her subconscious mind’s way of saying, I’m yours.

I got up and got a refresher for our drinks, but this time I slid into the booth next to her. I left some room between us as a back off, if I needed it. But she didn’t react at all. I knew now, all systems were ‘go’!

As we drank and talked on, I slid closer to her and casually put my arm around her on the back of the booth. I began to notice her throwing this drink down a little more loosely and more quickly. As she did, her speech became just slightly slurred. Almost home, I thought to myself.

My arm was now down on her shoulders. As we talked and chuckled about life, I’d sometimes pull her into me. She resisted not one bit. So, as we met a pause in the conversation, I thought, it’s now or never. I reached over, cradling her face in my large hand, and turned it up to mine. I brought my lips down onto her’s gently, but firmly. As I worked my lips on her’s, her lips began to respond. We began to openly kiss for the whole bar to see. Soon, my tongue snaked into her mouth. Her’s snaked back into mine. We frenched openly. And the old boys at the bar grew restless.

I knew Leasa was mine now. I began to fondle her tits through the fabric of her dress. Her nipples were hard as bullets and sticking out like projectiles. My thumb rubbed and teased them while she moaned into my mouth. She tried to weakly pull my hands away, but I just grabbed her hand and pulled it down into my lap.

The back of Leasa’s hand bumped into something as I pulled it down under the table. It was my ten incher poking way out under my left pocket. Looked like a big missile trying to get out of my pants. As we continued making out, I almost started laughing as I realized that when I let her hand go, it didn’t move. It kinda stayed right there. In fact, the back of her hand kind of glided downward along my shaft to my inner thigh. I knew what the horny bitch was doing. She was measuring it. And I kinda think she liked the measurement she came up with—if you know what I mean.

Leasa’s kisses and probing tongue seemed to become much more urgent now, after her accidental encounter with my stiff pole. I guess no white boy she’d ever been with had quite “measured up” as I had.

The poor girl threw one arm around my neck now and started whispering, “Oh Rod, oh Rod...” over and over again. Shit! She even started licking my ear lobe. A sure sign a woman is ready and set for fucking.

The whole place was dark now. It was still almost empty, but for the four old men at the bar, the two old homeys at the pool table, and the bartender.

My hand stroked Leasa’s thigh. As I brought it higher it met that point where her thighs were still closed together. But almost as soon as I met the resistance it melted. I pushed upward, just a little, and her thighs easily gave way and spread. I really hardly had to try. Her thighs were aching to part for me at this point.

When my fingers met the hinge of her thigh, they found Leasa’s most intimate spot soaking wet with excitement for me. I had to have this bitch—and now!

I lifted Leasa onto the table, kicking back half the booth. She was completely compliant now. I fucking ripped open the top of her dress, pulling it off her shoulders, down under her hips, off her thighs and threw it to the floor. She lay on the table, on her back, looking up at me. Her eyes were kind of glazed now, in shock of what was happening to her, but also conceding defeat.

I pulled her bra off her and threw it on the floor. Man, what tits this ofay goddess had. Big fucking 36C, maybe D, jugs, and growing out of the most slender, feminine bod I had ever seen. The old guys at the bar were almost in catatonic shock at this point—but nobody was running for help. On the contrary, the wolves were circling to get a better view. As my hands squeezed and mauled her gorgeous tits, the old geezers were getting closer and closer for a better view of the hot, naked, white bitch writhing before them on the bar-table.

After pinching her nipples, pulling them straight up from her body, letting go and watching them fall back to her rib cage, sliding and wobbling like erotic Jell-O, I slid my fingers under the waistband of her hose, and in one motion ripped them down off her.

When I pulled them off her feet, I held the crotch to my nose and breathed her in—beautiful scent of over-sexed woman!

I threw the panty hose in the face of one of the old timers. He rubbed it into his face and breathed deeply. They passed it around. But as they did, they stared at the naked pussy bared for the whole bar to see, and for me to fuck.

I looked down into Leasa’s glazed eyes. I thought of all her haughty, little attitudes at work. I thought of all the white women in Mississippi, as I grew up under Jim Crow, and the way they looked down on me. All this ran through my mind,as I looked down,down on Leasa Jons.

As we looked into each other’s eyes—her’s up into mine, mine down into her’s—I began unbuckling my pants. I let them drop right there, along with my briefs, and started stretching my lanky tool up over Leasa’s belly. I wanted her to see its length and size before I would sink it into her hot pussy channel, forever changing her white bread life.

Her eyes fixed on my weapon as I stroked it over her. They seemed glazed even more now. She even licked her lips unconsciously as she stared at it. I rubbed it back and forth over her belly, streaking her flesh with a heavy trail of precum. She looked at the gooey ooze streaked over her lower belly, her little finger dipped into the pre-jizz and then she lifted them to her lips. Her tongue snuck out and licked my fluids from her fingers, drawing them into her mouth. A second later, her hand reached down for more.

I rubbed the head of my dick up and down along the full wet lips of her shaved snatch. I noticed the bitch had some sort of dual clit rings clipped into her clitoral hood. I thought, “Man, what a hot bitch. Who’da thought Leasa Jons would be wearin’ a clitty ring—and even some kinda dual clitty rings?”

I pushed forward and Leasa’s legs rose instinctively. Her legs rose and spread for me, trying to offer me easier access to her womb. I got my arms under her thighs and leaned forward placing my hand on either side of the table. The gorgeous blonde was now bent back over, her knees almost touching her shoulders, and her pussy lips spread achingly wide for my further entrance.

I sank my black snake deep into her depths. It squished for all to hear. God, this bitch was so hot for me her pussy was frothing. I began humping down into her. Sinking my long black stake in and out of her like a fucking piston. Soon, the slapping of our loins was rhythmically vibrating around the room.

Two of the old men had unzipped and had their dicks out now, jacking them furiously. Poor old guys just couldn’t wait their turn, I guess.

My balls were slapping against Leasa’s ass as I continued pounding into her, rattling the table so much the glasses we’d drunk from fell crashing to the floor.

Leasa Jons was mine now. And forever. The blonde beauty was humping back up against me with everything she was made of. Her face was a mask of pent up lust. She’d never gotten it this good at home. She’d never gotten it this good before. She was insanely impaling herself onto my dick for all she was worth. Her grunting and moaning became louder and louder.

Then she screamed a few times, kinda high-pitched yelps, almost like a dog in heat. She was cumming. Sweat broke out all over her. Then I slammed deep into her and I came too.

Man! I just kept cumming and cumming. Her snatch felt so good on my dick. It felt like the tight, little thing was sucking the jism right out of me. Almost like that white, little pussy had found the food it had needed for so long, and liked a starved kitten was now nursing at the ebony nutriment this sixty three year old black man was willing to feed her.

When I was done, I pulled my slimey snake outta her. I roughly grabbed her by the hair, pulled her to a sitting position, and made her clean my dick off. She licked it and sucked it with no resistance. In fact, it was more like I had to offer her resistance to get the thing back outta her mouth when I felt she was done. My dick was sore from that sensitive feeling a man gets after cumming. Anyway, I just really wanted the men in the room, and Leasa, to see that I was Master here. The blonde was just my slave. Leasa Jons was now just there to serve—and not just serve me.