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Subject: {ASSM} Julianne's Revolution (again)
Date: Fri, 1 Dec 2000 09:10:03 -0500
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Good morning Denny:
Let's see if I can get it right this time. I'm a mac user working with an
anonymous hotmail address. So, I'm doing something different here. They
offered me choices I've never had before and maybe I hit the wrong thing.
Thanks for getting back so promptly.
coop
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Get more from the Web. FREE MSN Explorer download : http://explorer.msn.com
<1st attachment, "jr1.txt" begin>
Sory Code: F mast
To The Reader
This is my first effort. I'm working
without a proofreader or editor. Even Hemmingway had those. So I won't
apologize for grammar and spelling. Hopefully it won't get in the way of
the story.
This is a work of fiction, based on historical events of which I
have some first hand knowledge. Any resemblance to anyone living, dead, or
just totally out of it, is strictly coincidental.
Gratuitous Warning. There
are two dirty words in this story -- Nigger & Spic. They're used in context
with the time & place of the events. If you find these words offensive (and
you should) don't read any further.
There are also graphic descriptions of
sexual activities between people of different races. If you believe there's
something wrong with that -- don't aggravate yourself -- find something else
to read.
And, there's also a description of homosexual activity. If your
religion forbids this, try the Scriptures. This story isn't for you.
If
you're not old enough (like this is going to stop you) or the laws in your
community prohibit the reading graphic descriptions of sexual activities,
do a search for Michael Eisner's phone number. His company provides
wholesome family entertainment.
If sex, and reading about sex, is illegal
in your country -- don't break the law.
If you're a purveyor of internet
porn, don't even consider down loading this and offering it for pay. I won't
hesitate to sue your ass. This is being offered for free because I'm a
dummy.
---------------------------
Julianne's
Revolution
by D.B. Cooper
Chapter 1
The last beating was the most severe
ever. The pain in my wrist was intense. Bobby broke it when I threw my hand
up to protect my face. He just grabbed it and twisted. I heard it snap. Then
he hit me just once more, hard. I passed out.
I woke up groggy and alone,
stumbled to the kitchen to phone for help. The bastard had ripped the wires
out of the wall. Maybe he was afraid I'd call the sherrif. There was a note
on the kitchen table.
"Gone to make us some money. Back in a week or so.
Shape up, bitch. Next time it'll be worse."
I'm not sure what went wrong
with our marriage. I never did know what I did. or didn't do. In high
school we were the "golden couple." Bobby was an all state running back,
captain of the football team. Mr. Handsome. Mr. All Everything.
I was a
year behind him, National Honor Society; captain of the cheerleading squad;
president of my senior class and voted most likely to succeed.
I had
succeeded alright. Succeeded in marrying the meanest, most worthless prick
in Alabama.
Bobby went off to Auburn on a full football ride. He lasted
about 15 minutes in college.
"Plenty of talent," the coaches said, "and
plenty of bad attitude and shitty work habits to go with it."
He came
home, told us they were all assholes, and worked off and on at his dad's
mill. He proposed to me on Christmas day and we were married the following
August. The choice was Bobby, or an academic scholarship to the University
of Alabama. I made a bad choice.
The first few weeks were great. We went
to Bermuda on a honeymoon; made love; motorbiked around; made more love;
danced all night and made love. I was virgin when we married. That's how
things were in 1961. You didn't do it unless you were married. The sex was
kind of disappointing. I never came. Bobby would satisfy himself, then just
fall asleep.
He hit me for the first time about a week after we returned
from our honeymoon. His dinner wasn't ready when he walked in. I was
shocked, hurt and angry. But he apologized and we made love (well, he made
love).
Then the beatings escalated -- at least once a week -- sometimes
two or three times. And each time it seemed to be getting worse. Marriage
to Bobby had been two years of pure hell and I was trapped in it. Dad had
been killed in World War II. Mom was a hopeless alcoholic. All I had was
this crappy rented house and a dumb, mean, prick for a husband. This wasn't
the way it was supposed to be.
Bobby always looked for the easy way out.
There was always another deal. He showed up at work when he felt like it.
That pissed his father off and he got fired. So Bobby hung around the house
during the day. and hung out with the boys at the pool hall at night. Then
he'd come home, beat me, fuck me, roll over and go to sleep. As far as Bobby
was concerned I was nothing more than a punching bag and a piece of meat.
I took a job waiting tables down at the bus station. I knew I was smarter
than that, but there weren't a lot of jobs for girls -- even smart girls --
in small town South Alabama back then. I was the only one in the house
bringing home any money. And I took shit for that. It was a reflection on
his manhood, I guess. But it wasn't so big a reflection that he didn't take
what he needed to piss away on beer at the pool hall. At least it got me
out of the house for eight hours everyday.
Then he met the Cubans and they
offered him a deal. All he had to do was drive to Galveston, load his
pick-up with guns, and deliver them to the Cuban revolutionary expatriates
in Miami. The pay was $1,000.00
"It's too good to be true," I said.
"There's something wrong with this. Why don't they just go get them
themselves and save some money?"
"Because they're being watched by the
government, and they need a go between who doesn't look suspicious. It's
slightly illegal, but there's hardly any risk. Easy money."
As I later
learned, running guns is more than slightly illegal. Particularly if it's
military ordnance.
Bobby was gone about eight days on that first trip and
it was like a vacation. Even my friends noticed that my smile was back and
there was a little spring in my step. My hope was that if Bobby came back
with some money, everything would be better.
It wasn't. He was meaner and
more abusive than ever. And I was still trying to figure out what I was
doing wrong.
Bobby had found a Cuban cash cow. Pretty soon he had found
his own source for M1's and carbines. Now he was buying guns outright and
selling them to the counter-revolutionaries in Miami. He was gone two weeks
out of every month. But he was making a lot of money. At least he said he
was. I never saw any of it and my tiny waitress salary was barely paying the
bills.
He'd come home for a few days, beat me up, fuck me like I wasn't
there, then be gone again.
Now I was sitting on the kitchen floor with a
broken wrist and in intense pain. I needed to get to the emergency room and
there was no one there to take me. I decided to take myself and headed out
in my old VW.
Driving was brutal. It's hard to shift with a broken right
wrist. I don't know how far I drove. I passed out from the pain and awoke in
a hospital bed.
The first thing I was aware of was the cast on my wrist.
The second was the smiling Black face sitting backward on a chair watching
me intently.
"Are you the doctor?"
"No, I'm the guy that brought you here.
My name's Thomas. I found you and your car in a ditch passed out. I figured
you were either drunk or doped, and just drove off the road."
"I wasn't
drunk," I said. I was...."
"It's okay. I know. The doctors said that it
looked like someone had hit you pretty hard and broken your wrist. It wasn't
caused by the accident. In fact your car isn't even dented. What
happened?"
I told him. It was the first time I had told anyone. I was
ashamed. He was a good listener.
Thomas was disarming and easy to talk to.
I needed someone to talk to. He was there.
I don't know how long I
babbled. I told him about Bobby and my awful marriage. I told him a lot of
things. The truth is, I don't how much, or what, I told him. I just babbled
and cried and babbled some more.
"Where's your husband now," he asked?
"I don't know, somewhere between here and Texas and Miami."
"Well the
doctors say that you should stay here for observation for a day or two.
I'll keep an eye on you and make sure you get home. "
What was that line
about "the kindness of strangers?"
"Thanks, Thomas. You don't have to.
You've already done.....How did you know my name?"
"Deductive reasoning and
brilliant investigative work. It's on your chart at the end of the bed. I
got you here girl, I'll get you home. It's what good people do. You've had
a rough time. By the way, you ought to dump that loser. One of these days
he's going to kill you."
I knew he was right.
But what the hell does a
20-year-old girl with no money, no family, and a high school education do? I
was trapped. There was no place to go and no money with which to get there.
Thomas came to visit me the next day. I was glad to see him.
"They're
going to release you tomorrow," he said. "I'll drop by, pick you up and get
you home."
"You're not from around here," I said.
"No, I'm here on
business."
"Are you one of those outside agitators?"
The question was
logical. The South was a different place in the late '50s and early '60s.
There were demonstrations, freedom riders, voter registration drives & sit
ins. It was a big disruption to our normal lives. Governor Wallace called
them all outside agitators. Times were changing, but in South Alabama we
were doing everything possible to stem that tide of change. As Bobby said:
"Any of those niggers or nigger lovers show up around here and they're dead
meat."
"No, I suppose I agitate some people," Thomas said. "But I'm not
here on a civil rights mission. It's nothing like that. You won't find me
carrying any signs or making any waves. By the way, how you feeling?"
"A
lot better today. They've numbed the pain."
"Well you're lookin' a lot
better." He smiled -- a big grin. That's when I realized he was really an
attractive guy. It was hard to figure his exact height from the bed. I
guessed about six two. He was well built. Nice upper body development, small
waist, long legs and a smile that lit up the room.
I noticed something
else. His pants were tight and I was aware of a large bulge on the left
side. He appeared to have a formidable penis.
I blushed.
"You okay," he
asked? "You just turned bright red. Incidently, that's something I can't
do."
I laughed at his little joke and pulled myself together. I stammered
some silly response. Nice girls didn't think about such things. In fact nice
girls weren't supposed to notice such things."
Thomas stayed about a half
hour. The next day he was right on time and brought me home. I made some
ice tea and we talked.
He was single, lived in Washington and worked for
the government. He was just a few years older than me. He also had a law
degree from Georgetown. Thomas was the antithesis of the Negros I knew in
our little hick town. He was bright, funny, self effacing, and very sure of
himself.
How come I never meet any white guys like this, I thought. Around
here it's just macho good old boys.
He came back the following day, this
time with a casserole dish.
"I told one of the ladies down at the church
about you and she sent this over. She said you should get rid of that
man."
"I know I should. I just don't have any money. I'm really
trapped."
"Something's going to happen to free you up. You'll see. You're
too good for this kind of life."
The way he said it almost made me think he
knew something that he wasn't telling me.
"Listen," he said. "having a
Black guy hanging around here during the day doesn't look good. We could
both end up in deep shit. But you need a friend. So I'll keep my visits
fairly short and try to drop by every couple of days.
My heart sunk. I
hadn't realized how much I just enjoyed his company, his talk, his jokes. I
hadn't had anyone to talk to in a long time.
"What if I hired you to help
me out around here? That's pretty common practice in these parts. I don't
know how I can you pay you. But it would give you an excuse....."
"Great
idea. Tell you what. I'll drop by everyday and do a few chores. That way
you'll have some company, and I'll be able to keep an eye on you. Don't
worry about money. I'm not missing any meals and I can squeeze it in with my
other activities."
That's how I sort of hired Thomas. I didn't know then
how he'd change my life.
That night I awoke with my hand on pussy. It was
drenched. My nipples were hard and erect. I gently stroked my breast and ran
a finger nail around my nipple. My fingers slid down to my clit and I began
to slowly message it. I was hot .
And I was thinking the unthinkable. I
was thinking about that bulge in Thomas' pants. What did that big black cock
look like in real life? I thought about taking it in mouth and sucking it
until his cum flowed into my throat. My hand was becoming more and more
insistant. I was thinking about being fucked by a huge black dick. It was a
new fantasy. An impossible, unthinkable, fantasy. I was rubbing hard now,
thinking about Thomas's tongue moving in my mouth; his hands on my breasts;
and his big hard cock driving inside of me. I drove two fingers inside and
began moving them in and out furiously.
"Thomas. Oh Thomas. I want you to
fuck, me Thomas."
The orgasm was intense, so intense that I brought myself
off a second time. It was the best sex I'd had since marriage, and the
first time I had masturbated since I was 14. That was the last good sex I
had. Bobby was strictly a bim bam man. And I didn't even get the "Thank you
ma'am."
All my life I had been taught niggers were inferior; that all they
wanted to do was sing, dance and fuck white women. In south Alabama the
concept of a Black man fucking a white girl was the ultimate tabu. Black men
had been lynched for just looking the wrong way at a white girl. But it was
okay for white guys to fuck black girls. It was okay for the old boys to do
anything.
My masturbation fantasy frightened me. In fact, it scared the
hell out of me. It also excited the hell out of me. I needed to put those
thought aside.
I couldn't.
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work
is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly
indicated.
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<1st attachment end>
<2nd attachment, "jr2.text" begin>
F - Fantasy
To The Reader
This is my first effort. I'm working without a
proofreader or editor. Even Hemmingway had those. So I won't apologize for
grammar and spelling. Hopefully it won't get in the way of the story.
This
is a work of fiction, based on historical events of which I have some first
hand knowledge. Any resemblance to anyone living, dead, or just totally out
of it, is strictly coincidental.
Gratuitous Warning. There are two dirty
words in this story -- Nigger & Spic. They're used in context with the time
& place of the events. If you find these words offensive (and you should)
don't read any further.
There are also graphic descriptions of sexual
activities between people of different races. If you believe there's
something wrong with that -- don't aggravate yourself -- find something else
to read.
And, there's also a description of homosexual activity. If your
religion forbids this, try the Scriptures. This story isn't for you.
If
you're not old enough (like this is going to stop you) or the laws in your
community prohibit the reading graphic descriptions of sexual activities do
a search for Michael Eisner's phone number. he provides wholesome family
entertainment.
If sex, and reading about sex, is illegal in your country
-- don't break the law.
If you're a purveyor of internet porn, don't even
consider down loading it and offering it for pay. I won't hesitate to sue
your ass. This is being offered for free (let's keep it that way) because
I'm a dummy.
---------------------------
Juliannne's
Revolution
Chapter 2
The next day I felt a little guilty. What the hell
was I thinking last night? Then I thought about what I was thinking and felt
my panties getting moist. I dove into making a cake for Thomas. A diversion.
I wanted to do something nice for him. But then I began to think that what
I really wanted to do that was nice, involved something more than a cake. I
was hoping he'd show up today.
He did, about 2 p.m. wearing bib overalls, a
plaid shirt and a very hokey lookin' straw hat.
"Like mah Stepinfetchit
outfit ma' am. Ahs just loves to chop cotton."
"You look kind of dorky," I
said laughing.
"Aahs dressin' Negro today. Course there be some compromises
I just can't make. Check the label on my overalls."
It said, Brooks
Brothers.
Now I was breaking up completely. "Uh, what exactly are you
dressed for, Thomas."
"Chores. ma'am. Don't want to draw no attention to
myself. Where's the lawmower and the hedge clippers?"
I pointed to the
carport and he headed out in an exaggerated shuffle. God he was cute.
He
went right to work and I sat in the window, watched and thought. Why not do
what I wanted to do and seduce Thomas? I wanted that big hard cock of his.
He'd enjoy it. Plus what a great way to get a little revenge on that pig
husband of mine. He'd be sharing my pussy with a nigger. Maybe some day I
could tell him. Of course if I did, he'd probably kill me. Still it would
be my little secret. Maybe I could even get him to go down on me after I'd
fucked Thomas. Then he could swallow some nigger come and not even know it.
That would take some doing. Bobby hadn't eaten me since our honeymoon. It
was a good fantasy. I wanted it to be more than a fantasy. I wanted to make
it happen.
But what if Thomas rejected me? Would he do that?
I walked over
to the mirror and took stock. Except for the bruise on the side of my face
(which was healing) I liked what I saw. My natural blonde hair was clipped
neat and short in a pixie cut. It was perfect for my size and shape: 5'2"
with 34B breasts, a 25" waist, 34" hips and nice straight legs. I still
looked like the perky little cheerleader I'd been in high school. And
thinking about seducing Thomas made me feel like it too.
I'm gonna do it,
I thought. Go team.
Thomas worked for a couple of hours. I just watched. I
finally had to call him in.
"Hey you. Ready for a beer or some lemonade.
C'mon in."
"In a minute. Let me just get this last shrub."
Five minutes
later we were sitting at the kitchen table, sipping lemonade and wolfing
down my cake.
"Damn, the girl's pretty and can cook too. What's the matter
with that husband of yours? Is he stupid?"
"As a matter of fact, yes. Big
and stupid and mean."
My answer wasn't exactly what I was thinking,
though. Thomas had said I was pretty. That was a very good sign. Maybe
tomorrow I'd show him just how pretty I could be.
We talked for about a
half hour. then he got up to leave.
I made my first move as he got to the
door. I took his hand, pulled myself to him and hugged him hard. He didn't
put his arms around me. But, I pushed my whole body against him. He was a
foot taller than me and I could actually feel his cock starting to get hard
against my right breast.
"Thank-you Thomas. Thank you so much for just
being here. It's meant everything to me these last few days."
"It's what
friends do Julianne. They look out for their friends. You're my friend."
I
started to cry. That makes guys feel really helpless and protective.
"I
have to go," he said. "Don't cry. God will protect you and I'll be around to
give him a hand. It's going to get better. That's a promise. I've been
thinkin' about it. I have some ideas."
He left with a squeeze of my hand.
Damn, he seemed so sure that my life would get better. What did he know?
What was he thinking?
Thomas was terrific in every way I could think of.
But, lord he was hard to read. What did I really know about him? Not much,
when I thought about it. He worked for the government, had a law degree, was
kind, thoughtful, funny, unmarried and well spoken. And he had a very large
cock that I couldn't stop thinking about.
That night I masturbated again.
This time I didn't second guess the fantasy. I thought about that big prick
as it pushed against my nipple and how I wanted to suck that cock and feel
it driving deep into me. The images were all of that dark flesh pushing
against my white skin. Ravaging me. Fucking me. Using me. I lost count of
the number of orgasms. I was just enjoying my secret fantasies. I wondered
what Bobby would think if he knew what I was fantacizing about. Bet it
would piss him off. Next time he fucked me I'd be thinking about Thomas.
He'll think he made me come and that he's a great lover. He's just a mean
dumb turd.
Then I wondered if Thomas was fantacizing about fucking me --
stroking that big black cock and shooting gobs of sperm onto his stomach. I
wondered if Black guys had black sperm. I'd never thought about that before.
It's the last thing I remember thinking before falling asleep.
Pursuant to
the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its
author unless explicitly
indicated.
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<2nd attachment end>
<3rd attachment, "jr3.txt" begin>
M-F Interracial
To The Reader
This is my first effort. I'm working
without a proofreader or editor. Even Hemmingway had those. So I won't
apologize for grammar and spelling. Hopefully it won't get in the way of
the story.
This is a work of fiction, based on historical events of which I
have some first hand knowledge. Any resemblance to anyone living, dead, or
just totally out of it, is strictly coincidental.
Gratuitous Warning. There
are two dirty words in this story -- Nigger & Spic. They're used in context
with the time & place of the events. If you find these words offensive (and
you should) don't read any further.
There are also graphic descriptions of
sexual activities between people of different races. If you believe there's
something wrong with that -- don't aggravate yourself -- find something else
to read.
And, there's also a description of homosexual activity. If your
religion forbids this, try the Scriptures. This story isn't for you.
If
you're not old enough (like this is going to stop you) or the laws in your
community prohibit the reading graphic descriptions of sexual activities do
a search for Michael Eisner's phone number. he provides wholesome family
entertainment.
If sex, and reading about sex, is illegal in your country
-- don't break the law.
If you're a purveyor of internet porn, don't even
consider down loading it and offering it for pay. I won't hesitate to sue
your ass. This is being offered for free because I'm a dummy. Let's keep it
that
way.
---------------------------
Julianne's
Revolution
Chapter 3
Thomas didn't show up the next day and I wondered if
he'd deserted me. I'd worked to make myself extra pretty and sexy. He
couldn't call. The phone wires were still hanging from the wall. I felt
very alone, very vulnerable, and very sorry for myself. I wondered when
Bobby would be back. Any day now, I thought. His trips never ran over 10
days. He'd been gone for six. Then life would be hell again until he left on
another trip.
Thomas showed up the following afternoon at two, wearing
his day laboror suit.
"Sorry about yesterday," he said. "I got caught up
in meetings and reports and couldn't get away. "
"I was afraid you'd
deserted me and that I'd scared you away."
"Won't happen girl. I told you,
you're my friend now. I stand by my friends."
Thomas went to work in the
yard. I watched for a few minutes then went into the bedroom and slipped
into a pair of short shorts and a halter top that was easy to snap open. My
heart was pounding and my pussy was lubricating. I resisted the urge to
touch myself even though I wanted to. The anticipation was maddening -- and
exquisite. Today I was going to give it the big try. I wasn't sure quite how
I was going to make it happen. But I was going to make it happen.
He came
in for lemonade after about an hour. We talked for a few minutes. Small
talk. My mind wasn't on the conversation, though, it was on finding the
right opening. Just the right thing to do to get the ball rolling.
I got up
to refill his lemonade. Then I just took the bull by the horn. I jumped into
his lap threw my arms around his neck and pushed my lips against his. He was
kissing me back and I opened my mouth to force my tongue into his mouth. I
felt his cock getting hard underneath me. It was a strong passionate kiss.
Thinking back it was the most erotic kiss I ever experienced. The kind you
just want to make last forever. Everyone should be kissed like that just
once in their life.
Finally, in need of breath, I pulled away. Thomas
sucked in some air and gently pushed me to the floor in front of him.
"Wow,
that was something," he said. "But are you crazy girl? Black men have been
lynched in Alabama for less that what we just did."
"I know, Thomas, and
wives have been shunned or shot. I don't care. You're all I've been able to
think about the past few days, and what I've been thinking about involves a
lot more than kissing." I want to do a lot more than to just kiss you. "
I
unsnapped the back of my halter and exposed my breasts.
"Don't you find me
attractive? I hope so because I think you're irresistable." I was eye level
with a very large erection growing in his pants.
"Julianne, you're
probably the prettiest woman I've ever met. But it's out of the question. I
didn't pull you off the road just because I wanted to fuck you. Although I
must admit the thought crossed my mind, particlarly last night. I just
don't think it would be right. The potential for trouble is
immense."
"We're both above the age of consent Thomas. I know the risks. I
want to make love with you and we may never have another chance.
I leaned
forward and began stroking his cock through his overalls. He put his dark
hand on mine but didn't really try to stop me. I unbuttoned his fly and
released his cock.
It was everything I thought it would be large and
stiff. I was fascinated by the contrast of my small pale hand against his
penis.
"God, it's beautiful." I leaned forward and licked a drop of
pre-cum off the tip. It was kind of peppery. It tasted good. Then I ran my
toungue from the top of the head all the way to his balls. He
shuddered."
"Julianne, I think we should stop this right now before it gets
beyond our control."
"Mmmmm. I'm already out of control. Anyway, it's time
I did something nice for you. Did you know you taste good?"
"I never tasted
me. Julianne we really shouldn't....oh Jesus that's nice."
I wrapped my
lips around his knob and slid my head up and down. Thomas put his hand on
the top of my head and gently stroked my blonde hair. He was pushing up hard
against me, moving uncontrollably. I had about a third of it in my mouth and
started to gag. God he was big.
"Honey, if you keep that up I'm gonna,
cum."
"Mmmm," I backed off to catch my breath. "I'd love to have you come
in my mouth, but not this time."
I stood up, unzipped my shorts, and let
them fall to the floor. I stood there for a few seconds naked. I wanted him
to see what he was getting. I wanted him to know all of me with his mind,
his eyes and his body. I loved being naked for him.
He was sitting on the
kitchen chair, his eyes wide and appreciative as he just stared at me.
"Julianne, this is crazy."
"Uh huh. It's crazy and wonderful. And your
prick is so big and beautiful. Don't you want me?"
"Damn straight I do.
I'm no homo. It's just...."
He never finished that sentence. I straddled
him, reached down with my good hand began to guide him into my pussy.
Fantasies don't always turn out right in real life. This one was turning out
exactly as I dreamed about it -- only better.
There's this moment, I don't
know if guys feel it too, when you first feel a cock sliding into you. It's
just an exquisite moment. In some ways it's almost better than an orgasm. As
I slid the knob of his cock into the entrance of my vagina I felt that
moment and wanted it to last forever.
I slid down slowly. He was so big. I
was almost afraid. Bobby's cock didn't come close in terms of proportion and
he had hurt me. This one seemed twice the size.
Slowly, ever so slowly,
I slid down on that beautiful prick. All I could think about was what was
happening between my legs. I wanted it to last and last.
"Deeper girl. Take
it deeper. You can take it deeper. Take it." Thomas was pushing up trying
to get more penetration.
Finally I slid down all the way. I desperately
wanted to move. But I stopped, held still and put my arms around his neck.
I pressed my lips against his -- my tongue probing eagerly inside his
mouth."
"Oh Thomas, it's wonderful. Better than I dreamed. I love it. I
love that huge cock of yours. I love you. I just want to fuck you forever
and ever and ever. I want to feel your juices filling me. Fill me up,
Thomas."
I began moving up and down, slowly at first, then more
insistently. I was driving down on that huge Black cock. Fucking. Fucking.
Fucking. Then exploding as I felt his warm wetness letting loose inside of
me. I crumpled forward in exhaustion and exhiliration. I contracted my
sphincter muscle to squeeze out as much of him as possible. His cock was
softening now. But I just wanted to keep it inside as long as I could.
"
Thomas was spent too. He gently lifted me off, picked me up and carried
me to couch in the other room. I felt like a rag doll in his big strong
arms.
We sat together and cuddled. He stroked my still erect nipples.
Neither of us knew what to say.
He broke the silence.
"Do you really
love me?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you really love me? You told me you
loved me when we were doing it. Did you mean it?"
Had I? I guess I had. I
thought about it for a moment.
Finally I said: "Yes Thomas I think I do. At
first I thought it was just lust. Then I justified sex with you as a weird
way of taking revenge on Bobby. But, I think there's more. I think I really
am in love with you. Do you love me?"
He grew pensive.
"Yeah I do. But
intellectually I know there can't be any future for us. You know it too. So
I can't think about loving you."
"Maybe we can run away -- just be lovers
forever."
"It doesn't work that way sweetie. You know what the problems are
from a White perspective. It's even worse in the Black community. Hell it's
not even legal for White's & Blacks to marry in this state. Plus my momma
wouldn't approve of you. Wrong color. Anway, you're already married. By the
way, Lady Chatterly, do you always make it a habit to screw the
gardener."
"Only when he's big and black and beautiful and has a huge cock.
And then only after I've given him a world class blow job."
I slid my head
between his thighs and took his cock in my mouth for a second time, only
pausing to look up and say: "Bobby was the only one I've ever had sex with
before today. You're the only one who's ever made me cum. I want some more
of that. Now. I dove back down on his beautiful cock and felt it getting
hard in my mouth again.
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is
copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly
indicated.
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<3rd attachment end>
<4th attachment, "jr4.txt" begin>
MMMF Oral, Anal, Group
Julianne's Revolution
To The Reader
This is my
first effort. I'm working without a proofreader or editor. Even Hemmingway
had those. So I won't apologize for grammar and spelling. Hopefully it
won't get in the way of the story.
This is a work of fiction, based on
historical events of which I have some first hand knowledge. Any resemblance
to anyone living, dead, or just totally out of it, is strictly
coincidental.
Gratuitous Warning. There are two dirty words in this story
-- Nigger & Spic. They're used in context with the time & place of the
events. If you find these words offensive (and you should) don't read any
further.
There are also graphic descriptions of sexual activities between
people of different races. If you believe there's something wrong with that
-- don't aggravate yourself -- find something else to read.
And, there's
also a description of homosexual activity. If your religion forbids this,
try the Scriptures. This story isn't for you.
If you're not old enough
(like this is going to stop you) or the laws in your community prohibit the
reading graphic descriptions of sexual activities do a search for Michael
Eisner's phone number. he provides wholesome family entertainment.
If
sex, and reading about sex, is illegal in your country -- don't break the
law.
If you're a purveyor of internet porn, don't even consider down
loading it and offering it for pay. I won't hesitate to sue your ass. This
is being offered for free because I'm a dummy. Let's keep it that
way.
---------------------------
Chapter
Four
Bobby came home that night around midnight. He was drunk, but not too
drunk to want to fuck.
I was already in bed when he came in. He slid his
hands between my legs and began to finger fuck me.
"Hmmm, you're already
nice & wet. You must have missed Bobby's big cock, huh baby."
"God yes,
I've missed you. I've been really hot the last few days. Bobby, will you eat
my pussy?
You haven't done it in so long and I love it so."
"Sure baby. Why
not?" He slid his head between my legs and actually brought me to orgasm.
Afterwards he even told me how good I tasted. I smiled.
"I know, honey,
I've been saving all those sweet juices just for you."
Who said dreams
don't come true? Someday I'd tell him about the two loads my handsome Black
lover had left for him.
Bobby was in a good mood the next day. It had been
a double run. He not only had a ton of cash in his pocket, he had a load of
M1 carbines in the back of his truck.
"I'm going to have to hide these
some place," he said. "I can't be driving around with them. Too much
explaining if I get stopped by the cops. I have to hold them here for 10
days. "
Shit, that meant he was going to be around. I had a problem. I
needed to explain what Thomas was doing here.
Bobby grabbed me by the ass.
"C'mon baby let's get off a quickie."
"Can't now, the phone guy's likely
to show up at any minute." That was true. "Maybe later. Oh, I hired a yard
guy for a few days to straighten up around here. I couldn't do it with a
broken wrist."
"How the fuck did you do break your wrist?" He asked.
The
self absorbed son of a bitch didn't even remember beating me up and breaking
it. He hadn't even bothered to ask about the cast on my wrist.
"You did
it, the night you left."
There was no response.
Then he said: "Well good,
maybe your yard guy can help me hide this little load I have in the
truck."
Thomas showed up a couple of hours later. He was wearing his
overalls, but not the hat. I wondered what he'd do when he saw Bobby's truck
in the driveway. Would he just not stop? I really resented Bobby coming
home. I wanted more of Thomas. I was very nervous when he rapped on the
back door.
I rushed to answer it, but Bobby beat me to it.
"Ah's here to
help Miss Julianne in the yahd," he said.
"Well, you look like a big strong
boy. C'mon I've got some other work to do. We need to get my truck
unloaded."
Thomas followed Bobby out to the truck, they pulled the tarp off
the back and started to unload the heavy wooden crates of guns into the
carport.
It was hard work, and after about 45 minutes I stuck my head out
the kitchen door: "Hey, it's pretty hot out there. Take a break. Anybody
want some ice tea?"
I brought out a tray with a pitcher and a couple of
glasses, then lingered by the kitchen door to listen to the
conversation.
"My old lady isn't bad lookin', is she, boy? Bet you'd like
to fuck her."
"Never thought about it, Mr. Bobby, ah haves me a fine woman
just about her size and shape and she can't get enough of me. Keeps me
mighty pleased."
Christ Thomas was cool. I knew he was talking about me and
I could feel my panties getting wet.
"Yeah, those nigger chicks of yours
are hot stuff. I always say you aint had a blow job 'til you had a nigger
girl wrap her big lips around your cock."
"Yes suh," Thomas said. "I had me
a blow job yesterday that was amazin'. I swear that little gal of mine could
suck the chrome off a trailer hitch. She sure do know how to suck a man's
cock."
I'll never know for sure, but I'd be willing to bet Thomas knew I
was listening.
"Damn, I wish I could get my old lady to learn how to do
that. Maybe some day you could introduce Miss Julianne to your gal for
lessons. Better yet, bring her on over. I'd pay more than a few bucks for a
blowjob like that."
"Maybe someday, Mr. Bobby. I don't know if she'd want
to suck off a white guy, though. Never asked her. But I bet you'd sure
like it if she sucked your cock the way she sucks mine. We better get back
to work."
Bobby was totally clueless. Thomas had really put him on with
that country nigger routine.
The guys finished up. Thomas stood on the
back stoop and I watched Bobby reach into his pocket and hand him two
dollars. Cheap bastard, I thought. Work his ass off, then give him two
bucks.
My asshole husband went out that night to hang with the boys. He
came home and passed out. At least I didn't have to fuck him and I'd gone a
whole day without being beaten up. Things were looking up.
The next day I
announced I was going back to work. I needed to get away from Bobby. Thomas
didn't come by. That night at dinner Bobby announced that two or three
Cubans were coming to visit the next day.
"This is a big deal. These are
the guys with the money -- the real money. I want them to be real happy. I
want you to make dinner and wear something really sexy. I need to impress
them."
He handed me a $100. bill for shopping.
I bought a roast and all
the fixings, and had enough left over for a demure but very sexy black silk
sheath dress. It was my first dress since we were married. I wondered if
Thomas would like me in it. I wondered if he'd ever get to see me in it. A
couple of days had gone by now without a beating. I still had a cast on my
wrist, but the bruise on my face had healed. I have a feeling Bobby didn't
want me to look all bruised and battered in front of his Cuban friends.
I
was dressed and ready when the Cubans pulled up in a big black Cadillac. I
stepped in front of the mirror for a last check. I looked good.
All Bobby
said was: "Is that the sexiest thing you could find? It's a nothin' little
dress." He really knew how to help me build up my self-esteem.
There were
three of them and they walked into a house filled with the odor of a roast
in the oven and cherry pie. Bobby introduce me to Juan, Jorge and Fernando.
All dark, short, and I thought a little greasy looking. I brought out
drinks and retired into the kitchen to put the finishing touches on
dinner.
The men talked and drank. I served dinner and the talk continued,
almost as if I weren't there. The Cubans moved easily between English and
Spanish. I knew Bobby understood a little of the Spanish, but not much.
After dinner, the men went into the living room. I headed for the kitchen
to clean up. My dinner had been a success.
Bobby called from the living
room: "Julianne, come on in here for a minute. Juan has a question."
I
entered the living room and saw my husband sitting in the easy chair. Two of
the Cubans were on the couch. Juan, the third, was sitting in the other
overstuffed chair.
"Lift your skirt and drop your panties," Bobby
said.
"What?"
"I said lift your skirt and drop you panties. Juan doesn't
believe you're a natural blonde. Cubans love blondes."
"Bobby don't make me
do this."
"Just do it." His voice was low and his tone menacing. I was
frightened.
I kept myself covered while I slid off my panties . Then
lifted my skirt. It was humiliating and it was about to get worse.
"Ah
Bueno," Juan said: "I'll give a hundred dollars to see the rest of her
nude."
"Done," said Bobby. "Strip for them. Make it slow and sexy. Tease
them a little."
"Bobby, please don't humiliate me like this. I....."
"Don't make me get up and strip you myself." His voice was a growl.
I
started to strip for them. I really didn't know how. I'd never even seen a
stripper before. But the men were laughing and clapping. I was trying hard
not to cry. They'd already seen my pussy so I saved my bra until last,
finally I dropped it and stood before them, ashamed, and trying to hold back
the tears.
"Your wife is very beautiful,"Jorge said. "I'll give you a
hundred bucks and we'll seal our gun deal if I can fuck her. "
"I'll give
$200," Juan said.
The two men looked at each other. "Make it $300., said
Jorge.
They bid against each other in hundred dollar increments. Macho
pride was at work and neither was willing to lose. Bobby just watched until
Juan said $1,000.
"Tell you what, $1,000 each and you can both fuck her.
We'll just flip a coin to see who goes first."
I was shocked and
mortified. My husband was pimping me out to a couple of total strangers
that I didn't find the least bit attractive. The whole scene was sick. It
was about to get even sicker.
But thinking back on it, years later, at
least my price was good. Of course my asshole husband would have given me to
them for nothing.
"Okay Julianne, for a thousand bucks these guys deserve
A-1 service. You take their pants off and make sure those cocks are good
and hard. Use your mouth. I want them to get full value."
"Bobby I don't
think I can do this. Please make it stop."
"You can do it. You will do
it."
I did it. Kneeling in front of the two men, I pulled off their pants.
Then began to knead, massage, and finally, to suck their cocks. I tried to
pretend it was Thomas. But that wasn't working. I took turns. At one point I
took both cocks into my mouth at the same time. I was repelled by the whole
experience, yet I felt my pussing lubricating and my nipples getting hard.
I hated myself for getting sexually excited.
Jorge got off the couch and
entered me from behind, fucking me doggie style while I continued to suck
Juan's cock. Then the two of them changed positions. They did that a couple
of times until finally I felt Jorge spurt into my mouth. I almost gagged.
Just a few seconds later Juan filled my pussy. It was demeaning. But it
also felt very good.
While Juan and Jorge were turning me into a Cuban
sandwich, both Fernando and Bobby had their cocks out and were stroking
themselves. I hadn't thought about it before, but it dawned on me now that
Fernando hadn't asked to fuck me and hadn't joined in the bidding. It didn't
take me long to find out why not."
"A good show Senor Bobby," Fernando
said. "Now, I'll give you another thousand if you let me suck your cock and
fuck your cute ass."
I wondered how far Bobby would go for a buck.
"Sorry
'nando. I can't get into that. But, I'll tell you what, for $500. you can
suck my cock. Julianne will suck yours and when you're ready, you can fuck
her like a boy. Look at her. Doesn't she look like a pretty young boy with
her small tits and short hair. Julianne, go into the kitchen and get some
butter. You're in for a treat."
Now I was really frightened. Bobby was
going to let some strangers ram his cock up my ass. I'd never done that. I
guess intellectually I sort of knew that was how homesexuals had sex. But
I'd never really thought about it. And I certainly never thought about
letting someone, anyone, do it to me. I was literally shaking in fear. I
was afraid of what was going to happen. And I was afraid of what Bobby might
do if I didn't cooperate. Dociley I went into the kitchen and fetched the
butter.
When I got back to the living room, Fernando was already on his
knees sucking off Bobby. I slid under them and took the Cuban's penis into
my mouth. Then I became aware that someone was eating my pussy. I never did
find out who, whether it was Jorge or Juan. But it felt good and I started
to squirm in response. Whichever tongue, it was expertly working on my clit
and darting in and out.
Fernando got off his knees, Took my hand, and led
me to the couch. He bent me over and began to rub butter against my back
entrance. I was already pretty lubricated from my own juices, a load of
sperm and the saliva from whoever was eating me. His touch with the butter
actually felt kind of erotic. Then he inserted a finger and I gasped. It
slid in easily.
So did his cock -- at first. But he hadn't gone in very
far when it started to hurt. I tensed up.
"Oh god stop. You're hurting me.
Please stop."
My begging just seemed to spur him on. He pushed deeper and
the pain increased. I started to cry.
"Relax muchacha. You'll get used to
it."
I didn't think so. But slowly he worked his way in. It still hurt, but
it also began to feel kind of good. He was moving faster now. Getting my ass
fucked was the most humiliating thing of all. But I found myself pushing
back against him, responding in spite of myself.
"Oh, yes, yes, fuck my
ass. Fuck it. Please keep fucking me. Fuck me like a boy."
I was literally
screaming as he drove his cock back and forth, deeper and deeper. Then I
felt him shoot his load and my body tensed, then released in an orgasm of
intense proportion.
"Well my little wife likes to be fucked like a boy. My
turn with that sweet little ass."
Bobby's cock slid in easily and he came
fast. I did too. It was the only time in our marriage that he made me cum
with his cock.
Jorge and Juan had gotten turned on watching. The two of
them led me into the bedroom, not even bothering to ask Bobby, who was now
collapsed in his chair, practically dozing off.
As for me, I didn't care. I
had already been humiliated and used far beyond anything I could have
imagined. There was nothing else they could do to me. If I were going to
spend the night having sex with two strange Latins I was going to try to
enjoy it. I was beyond caring.
It turned out there was something else they
could do and I'm ashamed to admit that I loved it. We spent the night
fucking and sucking. For the most part they were pretty considerate lovers.
And they were bi-sexual. I watched while they took turns sucking each others
cocks. Then Jorge laid back on the bed and I slid down on his cock. Juan
slid his prick into my ass. It was sore but receptive. I fucked Jorge. Juan
fucked me. I lost count of the numbers of orgasms.
I awoke first the next
morning. I showered for a long time. I felt filthy and used. Hell I was
filthy and used. Yesterday I'd been a nice, proper, Southern girl. Today I
was slut and a whore. And my shit husband was a pimp. I guess the thing
that bothered me most was that I had really liked the sex. Of course every
part of me hurt. My cunt was rubbed raw and my asshole burnt as if there
were a thousand devils with pitchforks up there.
The Cubans and Bobby were
all still asleep. I made myself some coffee and started to make breakfast.
Jorge wandered out first, still naked. I poured him a cup of
coffee.
"Juan's showering. Thank you for last night. Your husband's a shit,
but he's useful to our cause. He'll help us rid Cuba of that Commie bastard.
So maybe you can feel good about that. You need to get away from him,
though. He's no good, really. Here, this might help you."
He held out an
envelope.
"There's $2,000. there. Our bid price. If Bobby asks for it we'll
tell him we were just playing around. He won't say shit because he doesn't
want to lose our good will. Hide the money. Use it to get away."
I didn't
reach for it. "I'm not a whore."
"I know you're not a whore and so does
Juan. That made last night very good for us. I'm sorry if we caused you
pain. We drank too much and things got a bit out of hand. Your husband
should have never gone along with it. But we did want to see how far he'd
go. We can trust him, I think. But he's crazy sick."
I started to cry,
thanked him and took the envelope. Jorge was a smuugler, but he was a good
man. I hugged and thanked him and took the envelope. I had a stake. It was
more money than I'd ever seen in one place. It would get me out of South
Alabama.
I finished making breakfast. The four men talked some more. A
deal was closed. Bobby shook hands with them and they left.
Bobby looked at
me and said: "Up the ass is a gas, huh?"
"You prick. You're nothing more
than cheap pimp."
"And you're just a whore who likes to fuck Spic Dick.
Did you have fun after I fell asleep?"
"Lots of fun. They fucked my brains
out."
He hit me and knocked me down. I hardly felt it. I got up, went into
the bedroom and dressed for work. I needed to get away from him.
Chapter 5
It was good to be back to work. I was slower than normal because of the
cast on my wrist. But somehow I managed to do alright.
Thomas walked in
around three p.m. and sat down in a back booth. He was wearing a charcoal
suit and looked very dapper and serious.
Jeb, the owner, reacted
immediately: "Get outta here. Can't you read boy? The sign says we don't
serve niggers in here."
Thomas stood up reached into his jacket pocket,
pulled out his wallet and flashed it at Jeb. I caught a glimpse of something
dark and metallic inside his jacket. He was carrying a small
pistol.
"You'll serve this nigger if you know what's good for you. I work
for the government and I'm a lawyer. Now, if you don't serve me, a couple
of things are gonna happen. One is that you're gonna have more niggers in
here than there are in Africa. And, when the demonstration's done, I'm going
to bring a Federal suit saying that you deprived me of my civil
rights.
"That suit will drag on for years and you'll be paying a shitload
of legal fees. In other words, I'll put your honkey ass right out of
business and make your life fucking miserable. Got it?"
Jeb backed off and
I brought Thomas a menu. He pretended to study it.
"You okay?
"No, my
husband went over the top last night. He forced my to have sex with three
strangers."
"Want to tell me about?"
"I can't here." I started to cry.
"Don't cry, try to look like everything's normal. I need to talk to you. I
want you to meet me at the AME Church in about an hour. It'll be safe for us
there. You know where it is?"
I nodded, yes.
"Good. There's stuff I need
to tell you. Can you get off?"
Again I nodded, yes.
"Okay, bring me a
bowl of chili and then ignore me. Just pretend you think I'm another uppity
nigger."
He ate his chili and left me a dollar tip. On it he had
scratched. I love you. The U.N. I still have that dollar.
I was nervous
driving out to the church. Nervous about what I was going to tell Thomas.
Nervous about being seen meeting him. When I got there nobody was
around.
I walked into the church. It was simple and austere. The
congregation was poor and had literally built it with their bare hands. I
thought it was really lovely. A kind of peace came over me. Somehow I knew
that God, with the help of Thomas, was watching over me. Again I started to
tear up.
I sat in the front pew and waited. I didn't have to wait long.
Thomas poked his head out and said: "Come into my office young woman. You
look troubled."
He pointed to a chair and I sat down. He was behind a
desk.
"Wouldn't I make a great preacher?" he said with a smile.
"I think
you'd make a great anything."
"Okay, it's time for confession. First you,
then me. Tell me what happened last night."
I told him the whole thing --
well almost the whole thing. But I told him how humiliated I had been and
how my husband had pimped me out to three strangers who took me sexually in
every way possible.
"The worst part of it is," I said. "I found myself
enjoying it at the end. I woke up this morning feeling like a total slut.
And I can hardly walk, my pussy and ass are so sore. One of the Cubans gave
me $2,000. and I took it. Maybe I can use the money to get away. But it
makes me nothing more than a high priced prostitute. I'd like to shoot that
prick husband of mine. I promise you this next time he leaves I won't be
there when he gets back. Maybe I'll come to Washington."
"A couple of
grand won't last very long. I have another idea," he said.
"Now it's time
for me to confess," he said. "I'm not what you think I am. I'm an agent for
the Treasury Department. I'm here to arrest Bobby for smuggling guns. That's
what we're going to do. as soon as we've finished humiliating him and
teaching him a little respect."
My faced flushed and I could feel the tears
coming. A lot of things came into focus. He was a Federal cop. I guess I
sort of suspected he was more than he seemed. He was always vague about what
he really did. God, I'd been stupid.
"You bastard. You've just been using
me to get to my husband. That sucks. Like you say, pal, that's what friends
do for friends. " I slapped him hard and wheeled to leave. "Or is it what
friends do to friends?"
He grabbed my arm and spun me around.
"Listen to
me Julianne. I did find you in the ditch. And I did take you to the
hospital. My plan was was maybe just to get to know you a bit, and see what
I could learn about Bobby's activities. I didn't plan on being attracted to
you, falling in love with you, and having you fall in love with me. You
initiated the sex. You're a hard woman to resist. "
I jerked away from him
and ran out of the church. I never had a daddy and I'd trusted just two men
in my whole life. They'd both betrayed and used me. Never again, I thought.
As soon as Bobby left on his next run I was gone. I didn't know where, or
what I'd do when I got there. But I was gone. Maybe I'd just grab the first
busto the first big city I could find and get lost in the crowd.
I wasn't
worried about surviving on my own anymore. I'd already taken money for sex
and as long as I could fuck, I could eat.
Bobby was gone when I got home.
That, at least, was a relief. I ran a hot bath and spent the rest of the
evening making plans to get away.
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this
work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly
indicated.
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alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
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<4th attachment end>
<5th attachment, "jr5.txt" begin>
FM Oral + inter MMM oral anal inter
To The Reader
This is my first effort.
I'm working without a proofreader or editor. Even Hemmingway had those. So I
won't apologize for grammar and spelling. Hopefully it won't get in the way
of the story.
This is a work of fiction, based on historical events of
which I have some first hand knowledge. Any resemblance to anyone living,
dead, or just totally out of it, is strictly coincidental.
Gratuitous
Warning. There are two dirty words in this story -- Nigger & Spic. They're
used in context with the time & place of the events. If you find these words
offensive (and you should) don't read any further.
There are also graphic
descriptions of sexual activities between people of different races. If you
believe there's something wrong with that -- don't aggravate yourself --
find something else to read.
And, there's also a description of homosexual
activity. If your religion forbids this, try the Scriptures. This story
isn't for you.
If you're not old enough (like this is going to stop you)
or the laws in your community prohibit the reading graphic descriptions of
sexual activities do a search for Michael Eisner's phone number. he provides
wholesome family entertainment.
If sex, and reading about sex, is
illegal in your country -- don't break the law.
If you're a purveyor of
internet porn, don't even consider down loading it and offering it for pay.
I won't hesitate to sue your ass. This is being offered for free because I'm
a dummy. Let's keep it
free.
---------------------------
Julianne's
Revolution
by D.B. Cooper
Chapter Five
Bobby had abused me physically.
But, Thomas had hurt me more. I felt pretty stupid, thinking my white knight
was going to be a Black guy. Well fuck him too. Fuck them both.
The next
couple of days were just sort of a blur. I went through the motions. Bobby
was absorbed with his latest gun deal, and was on the phone constantly
between Miami and who knows where.
I didn't bother to tell him that the
Feds were on his ass. I figured he couldn't beat me up in jail. I didn't
see Thomas at all, he seemed to have just disappeared. After the past
several days things were eerily quiet.
There was a knock on the kitchen
door about 4 p.m. that Friday. It was Thomas, dressed in his Brooks Brothers
overalls and plaid shirt.
"What do you want?"
"Today's the day, Julianne.
We're going to bust Bobby. Did you tell him who I was?"
"No, I've barely
spoken to him. Do what you must. I don't give a diddly damn about either of
you."
"Listen Julianne, you can believe whatever you want to believe about
me. I didn't plan to use you. I just wanted to keep Bobby under
surveillance. I learned more than I needed to about him. I could have
arrested him when we were unloading the guns from his truck. I didn't
because of you. I wanted him to suffer the same kind of humiliation and pain
you've suffered. But I needed time to set things up. I need you to trust me
one last time. Where's Bobby now."
"He just ran down to the Piggly Wiggly
for cigarettes. He should be back soon, if he doesn't run into his good old
boys at the pool hall. Why should I trust you now?"
"Because when Bobby
gets back, all hell's going to break loose. My colleagues from ATF are going
to be here at 11 p.m. for the bust. They're driving in from Birmingham. That
gives me seven hours to fuck with Bobby in a way, I promise, he's never been
fucked with before. If you want to see him squirm, here's your chance. If
not, I'll leave now and we can just bust him later.
"Make him squirm. But
I don't understand why you feel the need to humilate him."
"Two reasons,"
he said. "I don't like arrogant, asshole, wife beaters. Secondly, you're my
friend. It's what friends do for friends. He humiliated you. You gave me the
gift of your heart and your body. Whatever happens from here on out, nobody
can ever take that away from me. Bobby's punishment is my gift. You don't
have to accept it. You can just walk away. I'll understand. "
I was moved
and started to cry again. I didn't understand everything. But I believed
him. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. He licked away a tear,
whispered that he loved me and
Bobby walked in....
"What the fuck? You
little nigger lovin' slut. I'll kill you. And you're dead meat boy."
Thomas was smooth, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small
pistol.
"Ah don't thinks so Mister Bobby. Ah's just doin' what you asked
me. You wanted to meet my sweet cock suckin' little honey. Well here she
am."
Thomas was something --Stepandfetchit with a gun. It was a nice
touch.
"Are you really sucking this nigger's cock?"
"Sure am," I said. "I
fucked him too. You ought to talk to him about that. He could teach you a
few things. He's very talented. His cock is so big and black and beautiful.
You ought to try it sometime. Sucking Black cock is great fun"
I felt
myself getting sexually excited. I suppose it was partly because of the
tension in the room. But just letting Bobby know that his sweet little
Southern wife preferred dark meat was a real turn on. And I was thinking
about sucking off Thomas.
Bobby made a move for the pistol. Thomas
responded with a knee to the groin and a shot to the side of the head with
the gun butt. Bobby sprawled on the floor gasping for breath.
Thomas
handed me the gun. Jerked Bobby to his feet and slapped a handcuff on his
right wrist.
Bobby was having a hard time catching his breath. "I swear
bitch, when I get out of this, I'll kill you. And no court in Alabama will
convict me."
Holding a gun makes one very brave. "Husband dear, you've
fucked with me for the last time. Now shut up before I blow your nuts off.
Not that they're good for anything. Oh, did I tell you, I want a
divorce?"
Thomas grabbed Bobby by the arm, led him to the bedroom, and
attached the other cuff to a sturdy iron pipe. Then he brought him a chair
and said: "Sit."
I was sent to the carport to find a length of rope to
secure Bobby's legs to the chair.
When he was completely immobilized
Thomas looked at him and said: "The other day I told you how good my little
gal sucked my cock. All this activity has made me kind of horny. I wonder if
she'd be willing to give me a little relief now. And it'll give her a chance
to show you how it's done. Who knows, it may be a skill you can use someday.
How about it Julianne, wouldn't you like to show Bobby here how to give a
good blowjob?"
I didn't answer. I just walked over to Thomas and gave him a
big, wet, long, kiss on the lips. Then I stepped back and began a slow,
erotic, strip. I wanted to make sure Bobby got the full show -- A-1 service
as he described it for the Cubans.
Then I began to undress Thomas. When
we were both standing totally naked, I began moving my hands slowly around
Thomas's beautiful ebony body. Bobby was going to get the full effect of my
pale, white skin against my Black lover. Finally I dropped to my knees and
ran my tongue up and down the full length of that big, hard, black
prick.
"See Bobby, isn't he beautiful? Isn't this just the most glorious
cock ever? It fills up my mouth and wait'll you see how deep it fills my
pussy. You've never filled my pussy the way this cock does. Oh, and you were
partially right about Black men. They do want to fuck white women. They like
fucking white women. Thomas loves to fuck me, don't you Thomas?"
"Ah sure
does ma'am. Next to tap dancin ' and eatin' watermelon, it's my favorite
thing."
Stepandfetchit again.
"You're just a nigger lovin' whore," Bobby
said.
"I know, Bobby, you made me a whore, remember? You didn't care who
fucked me, as long as it could make you some money. Did you ever get the
money, Bobby? I don't think so. They gave it to me. Did I tell you that
every one of those greasy little Cubans, even the queer one, fucked me
better than you ever did. It was the second best sex I've had since we were
married. Thomas here gave me the first best. Watch how much he enjoys it
when I take his big Black prick in my mouth."
I don't think I'm an
exhibitionist. But knowing Bobby was watching me suck off Thomas was an
extreme high. My whole body tingled, and my pussy was lubricating furiously,
as I slid the tip of Thomas's cock into my mouth. I worked extra hard.
Sliding my head up and down; taking it as deep as I could; working my tongue
hard against it; humming, then backing off to lick the droplets of precum.
Thomas was just laying back and enjoying it. Every so often I could feel
his body jerk as he tried to push that huge member deeper into my throat. I
was extremely hot.
"Thomas, fuck me now, please. I need it. Show Bobby how
good you fuck me."
I scrambled from between his legs and stretched out on
the bed. Thomas rolled on top of me. I reached down for his big penis and
began to guide his cock into my drenched and anxious vagina. I felt a
special thrill as his knob began to pentrate my lips. I literally guided it
all the way in, making sure that Bobby could see that I was the one
controlling the action. I was the one taking all of that beautiful black
cock, helping in every way I could to get it buried inside of me.
Thomas
started to move rhythmically. I wrapped my legs around his back and pushed
up to meet him. I was no longer aware of Bobby, or putting on a show for
him. I was only aware of that cock, that wonderful cock, sliding in and out,
pounding inside of me. I came almost instantly. Thomas didn't slow down and
I came again; then a third time. Thomas tensed, pushed as hard and deep as
he could, and emptied his sperm inside me. He collapsed on top of me. We
both went limp and laid there for awhile.
Finally Thomas rolled off me and
I got up to get some water. I looked at Bobby. He had a hard on. Watching us
had excited him. Good, I thought.
The cum was dripping down my leg.
I
pushed my pussy next to Bobby's face. "Would you like to eat my pussy,
honey? You know how much I love that. I know it's full of nigger cum. But it
wouldn't be the first time you've tasted it. Remember the other night when
you said I was so wet and open. You said I tasted good. Well, my beautiful
Thomas here left two big loads of cum in me, just for your dining
pleasure."
Bobby gagged. I laughed and pushed my pussy against his mouth.
He kept his teeth clenched. Then I went to get something to drink.
When I
returned Thomas was propped up on the bed, smiling. "You're something girl.
That was some good fucking. Looks like we really got old Bobby here turned
on. I guess he likes to watch."
"I kind of feel sorry for him," I said.
"He's nice and hot and no way to get off, all tied up like that."
"Yeah, he
looks like he could use a little relief. Tell you what, in about an hour, a
couple of boys I know from Washington will be dropping by. They've been
guests of the government for the last few years and are probably pretty hot
by now. The best thing about it is that while they were in prison they
develped a strong attraction to pretty blonde boys. I think they'll find
Bobby here very attractive."
Wow, when Thomas planned revenge, he didn't
hold back.
"Are you serious, Thomas?"
"Dead serious. He let you be fucked
like a boy. Maybe he'll get to see what it's like to be fucked like a girl.
Hope he was paying attention when you were sucking my cock. He's probably
going to need to remember some of that techique. You know, a weel ago I'd
have been satisified to have a couple of guys just come down and rough him
up. Maybe break a couple of bones. But he deserves something
special."
Bobby started to squirm in his chair, trying to get loose.
"Julianne, you're not going to let him do this are you? Please, don't make
me. "
The thought of my prick husband on his knees, sucking a cock, then
being sodomized, sent a hot shiver through me. He was begging with almost
the same words I used, and that wasn't lost on me. I thought of the
beatings, the pain, all of the self-doubt and abuse, he had heaped on me.
The night he had auctioned me off to his Cuban buddies had just put me over
the top.
I turned to Thomas: "Do you think your friends will pay for the
privilege of using him?"
"They might," he said. "Although I don't think
they have a lot of money."
"Well, let's see what they can afford."
You
could see the desperation in Bobby's eyes. "Julianne, have you gone crazy?
Don't do this," he said.
"C'mon Bobby, don't be a spoil sport. It isn't
everyday a girl gets to pimp for her husband. You know how much fun that is.
I'm just gonna sit back, light up a cigar, and enjoy the show.
"I don't
even need a cigar, I have this." I jumped up on the bed, grabbed Thomas by
the cock, slid my mouth around it as if I were taking a drag, then flicked
it like a stogie. "It's longer and smoother, and I guarantee you,
hotter."
I went to work with my mouth and felt his cock growing. When it
was good and hard, I straddled it, with my back toward Thomas's head, facing
Bobby. I wanted him to have the best possible view as I impaled myself. I
slid up and down, long strokes, all the time staring at Bobby, telling him
how glorious it felt and how I hoped it felt this good for him, when it was
his turn to experience some Black cock.
"You're gonna love it Bobby.
It'll hurt at first when he starts to slide it up your ass. But you'll get
used to it. Pretty soon it will start to feel good. Not as good as this big
dick feels now -- but good. By the time he shoots his load up your ass,
you're going to be begging for more."
I was close to coming. "Up the ass
is a gas Bobby. You'll see. I'm gonna let Thomas fuck me there next. Oh
yes. Oh God." I felt Thomas spurt inside of me and I came -- hard.
Instead of being exhausted I was energized. It was pretty clear, though,
that Thomas was out of gas for the time being. Bobby had an erection that
was trying to break out of his pants. He really did enjoy watching.
I went
back to the kitchen to make sandwiches. Thomas followed me a few minutes
later.
"Are you sure you want to go through with it?"
"Yes, love, I'm
sure. Of course if Bobby ever gets loose..."
"He won't, don't worry. We'd
better get dressed. Our guests will be here soon."
They arrived about a
half hour later -- two large Black men who looked like body builders. I
mentioned that to Bobby later.
"There isn't much to do in prison except
lift weights and work on your body -- or someone else's body -- if your so
inclined."
They were both so inclined. And they were very tough looking
hombres.
Thomas took them aside and explained the ground rules. Some
money exchanged hands.
"You can do anything you want to the guy. Anything.
Fuck his brains out if you want to. You'll like him. He's good looking and
he's a virgin. But you can't mark him up. No bruises. No external evidence.
Hands off the girl. She's mine. When the games begin, she calls the shots.
If she says 'stop,' you stop. Got it?"
They agreed.
Thomas went in to
collect Bobby. He was shaking, but he had the presence of mind to try to
jerk away and break for the door. One of the body builders blocked his path
and grabbed him.
"You don't want to leave now. You'll miss all the
fun."
Thomas and the body builder (I later learned his name was Darius and
his partner was J.T. ) dragged Bobby into the living room.
I settled into
the easy chair and lit a cigar for effect.
"Guys, this is Bobby. I'm his
pimp. I don't think he has ever had sex with a guy before, but I know he's
real anxious to please you fellows. Aren't you Bobby?"
"Fuck you
bitch."
"Isn't he cute? He knows I love it when he talks dirty. Now, Bobby
here never gives it away. You have to pay for it. So we're going to have a
silent auction. Here are a couple of slips of paper. Bid what you can afford
and what you think he's worth. High bidder gets to fuck him first. You
probably want to inspect the merchandise. You should see what you're bidding
on. Get undressed Bobby. Show the boys what you've got."
Bobby didn't move.
"Do it Bobby."
He stayed motionless.
"Well it looks like he's going to
need a little help. Maybe you can help him get over his shyness."
Darius
had a unique solution -- a rather sinister looking straight razor. It took
him less than a minute to cut the clothes away. Bobby was left wearing only
the handcuffs.
J.T. walked behind Bobby, spread his cheeks and spoke for
the first time. "Cute ass. Looks like it might need a little stretchin',
though."
They filled out the auction slips. J.T. bid $12.00, Darius $9.99.
"I'm kind of disappointed, " I said. "This is his first time. A virgin
should be worth more than $12.00. But, I guess if that's what you can
afford, we'll just have to go with it. J.T. you're the winner you get to
fuck him first."
"Uh, Madame pimp. I like my boys to be more like girls,"
Darius said. "You have a wig or somethin?"
I didn't have a wig, but I went
into the bedroom for a lipstick. When I got back both men had their pants
off and were sitting on the couch stroking their very large, very thick,
cocks. Bobby didn't move as I applied the lipstick. Thomas snapped a
Polaroid of Bobby when I finished. It was the first of many, as he
documented Bobby's degradation.
Later he explained that if Bobby ever got
out of jail the pictures might be a useful way to keep him from coming after
me.
"Bobby, do you remember how I told you this afternoon how wonderful
it was to suck a black cock? Hope you were paying attention when I
demonstrated. This is your chance.
"I aint suckin' no nigger cock and
nothin's gonna make me."
Darius reached over to the end table and picked up
the razor. "Son, let me explain something to you. I'm a country boy. Daddy
was a hog farmer. I can slash the balls off a hog in one stroke and in less
than a second. It wouldn't take me that long to castrate you. And please
don't let me hear the word nigger again. I find it degrading and offensive.
In fact, it pisses me off and you don't want to do that."
He grabbed Bobby
by the shoulder and pulled him down to his crotch.
Bobby slid his lips over
the tip of that huge prick and began to suck. His will had been broken and
before long he was sucking and licking both men, using his tongue, tasting
their pre-cum.
I sat and watched fascinated. Thomas nudged me. "Jesus, he's
really getting into it, he has a hard on."
I'd never seen men have sex
before. In fact, I haven't seen it since. But it was fascinating to watch my
macho husband turned into a drooling, cocksucking, slut. I got up and went
into the kitchen, came back with the butter and handed it to J.T. "He may be
a little tight," I said.
Bobby's mouth was full of Darius when J.T. got up,
positioned himself behind Bobby, and began to work the butter around and
into his anus. It must have felt good because Bobby seemed to be responding
to what J.T. was doing.
Thomas was busy with his camera. J.T. grabbed his
huge member and began to insert it into Bobby's rectum. Bobby pushed back to
meet it, rubbing his cock as he continued to suck on Darius. Then J.T.
rammed it in hard. I couldn't believe how much of it disappeard into Bobby's
ass.
He sceamed. "Oh Christ stop. You're killing me." He was sobbing. His
hard on had diminished. "Please stop. Oh God stop." Bobby was sobbing.
His
begging just seemed to make J.T. fuck him harder and faster. For the first
time I really felt sorry for him, and almost called a halt to it all.
But
then, almost in an instant, everything changed. Bobby was moving against
J.T. and begging for it deeper.
"Oh God yes, fuck me. Bury your big Black
cock in me. Cum in me. Please I need it. Cum in me. Please, deeper. God yes.
Deeper. J.T. tensed, shoved himself in all the way and let loose a torrent
of sperm. Then he pulled out leaving Bobby unsatisified.
Darius wasted no
time taking J.T.'s place. Bobby was stretched, open and ready now. He slid
his prick in up to the hilt. "You like being my bitch? You want to be my
girl?"
"Yes, yes. I'm your girl. I like being your girl. Just fuck me. Cum
in me. Make me cum. Darius wasn't as insistant. He fucked Bobby slower,
making it last. Bobby was writhing in passion and finally came -- a huge
wad, all over the rug and the base of the couch. Darius kept pumping Bobby
until he too finally unloaded in that now, more than willing, ass. "
Bobby
collapsed on the floor -- totally spent. He had given A-1 service.
I went
to the kitchen broke out a beer for each of the guys and even brought one
for Bobby. Thomas joined me. "That was some performance," he said. "Did
you expect that kind of response?"
I admitted I hadn't. "I wanted revenge.
I wanted him to know what it was like to be totally degraded and humiliated.
He wasn't supposed to enjoy it."
"But that's the best part," Thomas said.
"You'll never have to worry about Bobby again. At the very least he's
bisexual now and probably homosexual. He'll never be the same. He probably
won't bother you. And if he does, I have pictures for the good ole boys down
at the pool hall."
I hugged him. I was satisfied. I was free. I was
devastated. It was over.
"What happens now. What about us?"
Thomas
smiled. "Well first we have to get out of here. The ATF strike force will
be here in an hour to arrest Bobby. He won't be going anywhere. I've paid
off Darius and J.T. and they'll just slip away. I don't want either of us
here when they make the bust. Too much explaining.
"I'll have to go back to
Washington and file reports and do all the follow up. It wouldn't look too
good if you came with me. I wish you could, though. Bobby's lawyers could
claim entrapment. What are you going to do?"
"I'm not sure. I have a couple
of thousand. Maybe I'll go to New York or Philadelphia, someplace North,
away from here. You said it earlier, a couple of thousand won't go very far.
I'll make do. I'm not stupid."
Thomas was quiet for a moment. The he
flashed me that world class smile again.
"I have an idea Julianne. Could
you identify the Cubans in a court of law?"
"Probably," I laughed, "
particularly with their pants down."
"There's a new program for key
witnesses. Right now another strike force is moving in on the
counter-revolutionaries, and their suppliers, in Miami and Texas. If you can
identify them and help prove that there was a relationship between them and
Bobby, I think I can make a compelling case for you.
"Basically, the
government pays to relocate and protect you and gives you a new identity.
All you have to do is testify to what you've seen."
"But a wife can't
testify against her husband."
"Wrong. A wife can't be forced to testify
against her husband. Nobody would be forcing you."
Thomas, as usual, made
it happen. Somehow, Thomas was always able to make things happen.
It took
less than a week for an agent from the Justice Department to find me,
interview me, and suggest I be moved to safe place in New York City, with a
new identity. They paid for it all and gave me money to live until I could
get on my feet.
A couple of months later I was flown to Atlanta to testify
against Bobby. It was the last time I saw him. He didn't speak to me. He was
convicted and sentenced to 15 years in a Federal pentitentiary. Several
years later I heard that in prison Bobby was again "all everything" and for
everyone.
After Bobby's trial, the government brought me to Florida to
testify against the Cubans. I felt badly, particularly when I had to
testify against Juan and Jorge. The sex really had been good, and they had
treated me fairly. On the way out of the courtroom, Jorge reached for my
hand.
"I understand, muchacha. Did they arrest your husband?"
"He's doing
15 years."
"That's good. You're free. He was a shit."
I cried for him.
Jorge wasn't a bad man. He just wanted to free his country -- even if he had
to go to jail to do it.
After the Miami trial, Thomas and I flew to
Jamaica for two weeks. There, we weren't a White girl on the arm of a Black
guy -- just two lovers. We never did marry. I stayed single, worked, went
to college, made a career and became pretty famous.
Thomas rose in the
Treasury Department, and became important in his own right. Last year he
was appointed to the Federal bench. He married a beautiful Black woman (his
momma approved) and raised a beautiful family. I met his wife once. She was
very lovely and seemed to understand the special relationship Thomas and I
shared. I loved her for that. And I envied her.
We never failed to see each
other when he came to New York or I visited Washington. We were on again,
off again, lovers for many years. Thomas was the great love of my life and
it had nothing to do with skin color. Every woman should have a Thomas in
her life.
It's funny how old ideas and teachings change. Today, there are
no more niggers -- just people who are different. We have a long way to go,
but I think we're on the right track.
I'm old now, 60. I've had many
lovers of both sexes, but never another Thomas. The passions of the past
are just a memory. Thinking back, I can only compare it to ripples on the
water. The waves were sent out by a revolution on a Caribean island. They
crashed ashore in South Alabama where a young Julianne had a revolution of
her own.
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with
all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly
indicated.
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