Canoed Blog

I love pornography. I regularly download videos and pictures from the Internet and love reading erotic stories. I am particularly drawn to pictures of black women with their chocolate brown skin, nearly black nipples and velvety pubic hair. I am a white male in my thirties and have never been with a black woman. I’ve been married for about ten years and my wife and I enjoy an adventurous sex life. She gets turned on watching x-rated movies and reading erotica as much as I do, but doesn’t understand my fascination with dark skinned women.

I work as an analyst for a securities company and my wife is a lawyer specializing in corporate mergers. She travels a lot and is frequently out of town for several days at a time. Whenever she’s gone, I surf the web or use my file-sharing program to search for pictures and videos of beautiful black women. Most of the models on the web sites I’ve found look like junkie whores instead of models. Where are the gorgeous black babes? I have this fantasy of taking matters into my own hands and inviting a young black female over to the house for a photo shoot. My wife worked her way through law school as a photographer and still has all the camera equipment, lights and backdrops. My ultimate fantasy is that the photo shoot leads to hot sex with a beautiful, young black woman.

The current star of my fantasies is Katrina, a sexy, black, 18 year old intern working in our office for the summer. She is the daughter of one of my clients and this is her third summer working for us. She sorts the mail, does filing and general clerical duties for the analysts working on my floor and we interact frequently with good rapport. She is a knockout. She has shiny black hair hanging down to her shoulders, beautiful big brown eyes set between high cheek bones and a smile made more inviting by a thick, pouty lower lip. She’s about 5′ 8″ with long shapely legs usually covered with black nylons. She wears short skirts that fit tightly across her round ass cheeks that gently curve up to her slender waist. Her ample breasts push out her clinging tops creating perfectly round orbs high on her chest. Everyday I watch her push the mail cart through the hallways and imagine caressing her naked ass or sucking on her black nipples. I fantasize taking her home with me and photographing her in a variety of lewd positions before pounding my hard cock into her tight, young pussy. I have to stay behind my desk whenever she’s around to hide the bulge in my pants.

“Hey, Mr. C, I’ve got a few envelopes for you today. Looks like some papers to sign do you want me to wait for them?” Katrina has walked into my office with the mail. She’s wearing a white blouse with the top two buttons undone giving me a generous view of the top of her tits as they disappear into a black, lace bra. She’s wearing a gray skirt with a pink belt cinched across her flat stomach.

“That would be great, Kat. It should only take a minute or two, have a seat.” I motion her to one of the chairs across from my desk. She sits down, her skirt riding halfway up her thigh even before she crosses her legs. I’m trying not to leer at her as I open the manila envelope. “All ready for college?” I ask, “When do you leave us this time?” I’m staring at her lovely legs as I sign on the designated lines on the documents. I watch her uncross her legs and catch a glimpse of bare thigh above her black nylons.

“Three more weeks, then I’m a college freshman. My dad’s driving me up to school and staying the weekend to help me get settled. I’m going to miss it here.” Her smile is captivating and it pulls my eyes away from her legs.

“We’ll be the ones missing you, Kat. You’ll be too busy studying and partying and living the coed life to miss us. I almost envy you, although I must admit there are aspects of my college days that I wouldn’t want to relive.” I say laughingly.

“Really? Like what?” Katrina asks, leaning forward to listen to my answer. Her blouse gapes open on one side giving me a clear view of most of her left tit. I am awestruck at the sight of this smooth, milk chocolate colored globe and my cock reacts accordingly creating an even bigger bulge in my pants.

“Well, for some of us the freedom of being away from home for the first time was a little more independence than we could handle. Let’s just say that my first couple of semesters didn’t make my parents proud.” My mouth is dry and I’m hiding a raging hard on as I finish signing the papers. It’s not the head on my shoulders that’s driving my actions when I impulsively ask Katrina to have lunch with me. “I suppose you should deliver the rest of the mail rather than sit her and chat with me. Would you like to continue our conversation over lunch? I usually just go downstairs to the deli, what do you say?” I ask, as I finish addressing the envelope and hand it to her.

“That would be fun, Mr. C.” Katrina gives me a dazzling smile, stands up and walks toward the door. “I get my break at twelve, okay?”

“Perfect” I say, “I’ll meet you there.” I watch her firm, round ass swish back and forth as she pushes the mail cart down the hallway away from my office. It’s eleven-thirty and I don’t get any work done for the next half hour as I plot how to make my fantasy come true. I realize that I need a scapegoat to avoid being seen as a dirty old man when I propose a photo session to Katrina. My idea actually seems plausible by the time I reach the elevator and push the button for the first floor. Katrina is waiting for me at a booth in the corner, reading the menu when I arrive. I sit across from her and thank her for having lunch with me.

“No. Thank you, Mr. C. Being the only intern in an office of executives and assistants, I usually eat alone. This is a real treat for me.” Katrina is sharing that intoxicating smile with me again and this time her whole face is lit up in a smile that extends up to the sparkle in her eyes. I definitely want to capture this girl on film or I should say on memory card.

“A beautiful girl like you should never have to eat alone.” I say, reading the specials on the menu.

“Why Mr. C. Are you flirting with me?” She laughs, playfully batting her eyelashes at me. “It’s not everyday a girl gets invited to lunch by a handsome executive.”

“Why Katrina, are you flirting with me?” I laugh. “If so, you should probably drop the Mr. C and just call me Chris, okay?”

“Okay, Chris and please keep calling me Kat, all my friends do.” The waiter comes by and we both order salads and ice tea. After the waiter brings our drinks and some bread, I decide to broach the subject of my fantasy.

“Katrina, I mean Kat. There’s something I want to ask you, but I’m afraid I might offend you or lessen your opinion of me by asking it.” I’m looking directly in her eyes and wait for a response.

“Nothing would lessen my opinion of you, Chris. You’re the nicest person in the whole office. My daddy speaks very highly of you. Just ask me whatever you want.”

“Well, this isn’t something I would ever want your father to know about. So what I’d like to do is ask the question, but if you’re offended or uncomfortable, we can forget I ever asked it and get back to discussing college life. Is that alright with you?”

“Wow, you really have me intrigued now. I can’t wait to hear what this mystery question is so I’ll agree to your terms, but I doubt I’ll be offended by anything that you say.” Katrina is smiling again and leans forward in her seat. My eyes are again drawn to her milk chocolate cleavage visible through her gaping blouse.

“I have a photography business that I work at part time out of my house for a select group of clients with specific requests.” I speak slowly and stress the specific requests. “I photograph models and provide pictures to my clients strictly for their individual use.” This is where the “client” becomes the scapegoat for my own desires. It’s not me it’s the client that wants these pictures.

“And these pictures. I assume they are nudes or semi-nudes.” Katrina seems more curious than offended. This could go better than I thought.

“Yes. My clients provide specific requests including the model’s age, appearance and even the exact poses they want. Sometimes they request video, but usually it’s just still photographs. Now for the question.” I pause and take a bite of my salad.

“Yes, I can hardly wait for the big, mystery question. I have to say that you’ve already taken me by surprise. I can only imagine what comes next.” Katrina picks up her glass of ice tea, her big brown eyes smiling up at me as she sucks the ice tea through the straw.

“I have a client who has requested pictures of a young, black woman. He specifically wants an 18 year old who is not a professional model and has not previously posed nude for anyone. That means I can’t rely on my usual sources and I don’t know any young, black women besides you. So I thought there might be a remote chance that you would know someone willing to do this. The pay is quite lucrative but she would have to be very attractive. Maybe not as beautiful as you are, but as close to your look as possible. There that’s the question. If it offends you, please accept my apology and we’ll forget I even asked it.” I stop talking and look at her. She has her head titled to the side and is studying me intently. I dip some bread in the salad dressing left on my plate and take a bite, still looking at Katrina.

“How lucrative?” Katrina asks, raising her eyebrow and speaking slowly.

“I usually pay $500 per four hour session. It normally takes one or two sessions to get all the required pictures. Anyone you suggest, I would have to interview and make sure they have all the qualifications.” I had decided before lunch that Katrina naked in my bed was worth $1,000. I could see on her face that she was considering it. It took a few minutes before she spoke.

“Would I do? Do I meet the qualifications for your photographs?” She’s looking at me coyly and I’m trying not to show how excited I am by her answer.

“Are you serious? I really wasn’t thinking of you for this. What would your father think? I’m not sure this is a good idea, Kat.” My god! I may actually see this young black teenager naked on my bed before the week is out. My wife is going out of town day after tomorrow and will be gone for four days. The timing couldn’t be more perfect.

“First of all, it’s not something I would tell my father and I don’t think you should either. He doesn’t know about your photography business, does he? He’s not one of your clients is he?” Suddenly the conversation takes an unexpected twist and Katrina is looking at me intently.

“No, your father doesn’t know about it and is not one of my clients.” I answer her honestly. Of course, there aren’t any clients so how could he be?

“Okay. Secondly, I’m 18 years old, can think for myself and I think it might be fun. You didn’t answer whether I would qualify.”

“Well. If we’re going to pursue this I have to ask you a few more questions. First, though, I want you to understand these are very intimate photographs with some extreme close ups that you might find embarrassing, Kat.”

“Chris, I’ve never done anything like this, but I trust you. Just knowing the kind of person you are, I expect that you do whatever it takes to set your models at ease. I’m okay with the types of pictures you’re talking about. What are the questions?”

My cock is pushing hard against my zipper as I contemplate the questions I want to ask, especially since I’m making this up as I go. “Okay, first, are you a virgin?”

“No.” Yes! First hurdle cleared. That’s all I care about but I ask a few more questions to make it seem realistic.

“Okay. Do you have any birth marks, blemishes or tattoos that I should know about before we start taking pictures?” I’m again staring at her cleavage.

“Hmm. Let’s see. I have a small tattoo on the inside of my ankle, but aside from that, nothing.” I get a quick flash of upper thigh and black panties when she lifts her leg up to show me her tattoo. I can barely see a small flower through her nylons.

“Okay, no problem. Are you trimmed, completely shaved or natural?” I ask, looking directly into her sexy, brown eyes.

“What? Oh that!” She’s laughing as she tells me, “Trimmed, I guess. I do trim it, but I don’t shave down there.”

“Perfect. What’s your bra size, Kat.” I’m just curious about this and I’m trying to make it seem like there is specific criteria.

“36C. Wow. Your client requests a specific bra size?” Katrina has gotten past her initial apprehension and is now very intent on meeting the client’s criteria.

“No. But once I’ve found a model, I e-mail the specifics for approval before we do the photo shoot.” I’m trying to sound very businesslike while by heart is pounding in my chest and my cock is throbbing in my pants. “There is no doubt, my client will approve of you.”

“Umm. Tell me again how these pictures are going to be used. I’m not going to show up in some sleazy magazine or all over the Internet am I?” Katrina is starting to think through the ramifications of what she’s agreed to do and I’m afraid she’s going to back out.

“Absolutely not. First of all, I know this client and he keeps pictures strictly for his own personal enjoyment. Secondly, I have a written contract with each of my clients that forbids publication or distribution of any of my photographs. I retain the copywrite for all of my pictures, which makes the contract legally binding. I can guarantee you there is nothing to worry about.” I reassure her with a lot of bullshit, but she seems to be buying it.

“Nothing to worry about except having my trimmed, not shaved, private area and my 36C breasts photographed close up for some unnamed client to gawk at while he…. while he…. whatever he does while he’s gawking.” She settles back in the booth, laughing while she says this and I watch her tits gently bounce with her laughter.

“Basically, yes. Are you still up for it?” I ask. I certainly am, my cock is especially up for it.

“Sure, why not. When do we do this?” she asks.

“When is your next day off that you don’t have anything planned?” I know she doesn’t work on Thursday, which is my wife’s first day out of town.

“I’m off Thursday, is that too soon?” she asks. Nothing could be too soon for me. I can hardly breathe as I once again assume a businesslike tone.

“Thursday would work well. We can start early, around 9 a.m. and see how far we get.” I am amazed at how far I’ve already gotten with my fantasy and expect I will get a lot farther on Thursday.

“Now, we have to talk about wardrobe for the shoot. I can supply wardrobe if necessary, but I’ve found that it’s more effective if you can wear your own clothes. The fit will be right and we don’t have to waste time making adjustments. The client wants three different series of photographs, a conservative school girl look, a sexy, street look and a seductive bedroom look.” I tick off each of these on my fingers as I describe them. “Each series will consist of you posing in various stages of undress. The schoolgirl look should be a conservative skirt and blouse with plain white bra and cotton brief panties. The sexy look will be a tight, short skirt and sleeveless blouse or tank top with lace bra, sexy nylons and a thong. The seductive look is a sheer nightgown or negligee with matching panties or thong and no bra. Which of these can you bring and which will you need me to supply?” I ask her in my most disassociated, businesslike tone.

“Well I think I have skirts and tops for both the school girl and street girl look. I don’t have any white underwear, I mainly have black and purple.” She starts laughing, “You know, it’s weird. I don’t mind telling you whether I’m shaved or not, but talking about what type of panties I own is embarrassing. That’s really weird.”

“I start laughing with her, “It’s true. Some of my models are more shy exposing their underwear than when they are posing totally nude. How about the rest of the clothing.” I’m starting to sound like I’ve been doing this for years.

“I have a black thong and a black lace bra.” She glances down and I get the impression she’s talking about what she’s wearing right now. My cock reacts to the image of her sitting there in a thong under her short, tight skirt. “What else do we need?”

“A sheer nightgown.” I answer without intonation, wondering whether this lovely young teenager owns any sexy nightwear.

“I have a baby doll, but I’m not sure how sheer it is. It’s pink with little frills around it. “She’s using her hands to show me where the frills are around her hips and just below her tits.

I look at her and ask indifferently, “Do your nipples show through when you wear it. It has to leave almost nothing to the imagination.” I can’t help but look right at her tits when I ask her this and I might be imagining it, but I think I see her the points of her nipples pushing at her blouse. Could this conversation be having the same effect on her that it is on me?

“Well, I… uh… no. I don’t think you can see that much.” She is flustered and I see her blush for the first time. Her complexion seems to have taken on a dark brown glow compared with the light brown coloring it had a minute ago. She takes a deep breath and I watch her breasts swell under her blouse and I definitely see the outline of her nipples in the white fabric. This girl is getting turned on from our conversation.

“Okay, well bring it anyway and we’ll see. How about if I give you money to get the white bra and panties and I’ll take care of the negligee?”

“Sure that’ll work.” She smiles at me.

“You’ll need to bring your make up. For the schoolgirl look, I’ll shoot you very naturally without much make up but for the sexy street look you’ll need some bright lipstick and some eyeliner to match your outfit. For the seductive, bedroom look you’ll need more subtle shades of eyeliner and lipstick, okay?”

“Yeah. I’ve got all that, no problem.” She’s recovered from her embarrassment and is leaning forward again, engaged in the conversation as if we were planning a field trip to a museum instead of a naked photo shoot in my bedroom.

“Good. I’m excited that you’re going to do this. Stop by my office before you leave today and I’ll give you directions to my house.” I stand up while she’s leaning over the side of the bench to retrieve her purse from the floor. The front of her blouse spreads open as she bends down and her bra cup hangs about a half inch away from her body. I can see most of her soft chocolate colored breast, and about half of her black nipple with it’s surrounding areola before she sits up. I turn toward the door before she can see the bulge in the front of my pants. This is just a tease for what I’ll see on Thursday.

When Katrina brings the afternoon mail I give her my address, some shopping money and tell her to wear the schoolgirl outfit when she comes over Thursday and we’ll start with that.

Wednesday night, after my wife leaves for the airport I set up the camera equipment in the guest room. The feminine dŽcor in our guest room will make a great place to do the photo shoot. I also go to the Lingerie shop at the mall and get a sheer pink teddy with matching thong for the bedroom shoot. I’m so excited that I can hardly sleep.

Katrina rings the doorbell right at nine o’clock Thursday morning. I lead her down the hall and detect a bit of nervousness as we stow her make-up and extra clothes in the guest bathroom. I realize that I’m going to have to take it real slow and help her relax. My plan is to get her so heated up during the photo shoot that she wants me to fuck her. Worse case scenario I get great pictures of her naked body. I have her complete a release form that I created last night in Microsoft Word then explain to her what we’ll be doing.

The important thing was that Chantel, one of my students, my bisexual girlfriend, my pussy eating, blackcock craving sister cumslut was a permanent houseguest. And, if we had to sneak behind my husband”s back to lick each other”s pussy, or we had to meet Darnell or Clay, or both of them together, somewhere else so we could get our temporary fill of being used by them like the insatiable blackcock slut Chantel already was and I was quickly becoming, or we had to impatiently wait for Edwin to go out of town again so we could indulge our bisexual lusts with another blackcock orgy in the den—with some hot and nasty interracial sex playing on the big screen for proper atmosphere, naturally—then those were some of the infuriating annoyances we would have to endure… like it or not.

I get the word…

Since he had to drive much farther then I did, Edwin always left the house an hour and a half to two and a half hours earlier than I had to, depending on the severity of the weather, which left Chantel and I a good hour all to ourselves. We invariably put this all-too brief period of free time to good use; either by Chantel joining me in the shower, or me hurrying into her bedroom to wake her so we could start off the day with a “Good morning” lesbian fuck.

This is not to infer that I was, in any way, losing interest in hard black cocks. By this point, I was fully committed to being as nasty a white slut as I could be for the two black cocks I had come to know so intimately. In the first week of having Chantel as “my personal” houseguest, she and I had met with Darnell and Clay three times. The first time had been in Clay”s car, parked behind the shopping mall where Chantel and I had spent that entire Saturday remaking and re-outfitting me into a sexier person. The sluttier outfits Chantel had helped me try on were hidden in the trunk of my Lexus.

We had gotten together with our big cocked guys twice more after football practice to get some much-needed release from their hard black cocks. The first time I had blown Clay on the entirely-too-cramped, narrow back seat of Chantel”s Honda while she had been bouncing up and down in Darnell”s lap in one of the bucket front seats, then we had switched places, with me uncomfortably riding D”bone”s cock this time and her sitting on Cannon”s lap so we could neck with each other over the back of that damned midget-sized bucket seat while we were getting our horny slut cunts flooded with their hot jizz.

The second night we used my more-roomy car and reversed the process of getting our necessary helpings of their hard black cocks. Bent over the shift console, I sucked off Darnell and was swallowing all of his cum as Chantel was getting her mouth filled by Clay. We switched off and she rode D”bone”s cock up front while watching me get gloriously doggie fucked by Cannon in the wider, but still not that roomy, rear seat.

In none of those three cases did I find sucking cock or getting fucked in a vehicle being comfortable things to accomplish. I could not understand the attraction of back seat fucking, or perhaps I was too old to appreciate the youthful naughtiness of “doing it” in the back seat, where there was always the chance of someone catching you sucking off your boyfriend in the front seat, or him fucking you in the back seat.

That”s not to say that this contortionist vehicle sucking and fucking didn”t serve a desperate need, but doing the nasty in a cramped car (for me, anyway) was no where near as pleasurable as getting my white wife/nasty cumslut holes fucked by hard black cock and over filled with their hot “nigger” jizz had been in the more spacious den. But, with Edwin home nights, and on the weekends, this was about the only convenient way Chantel and I could see of getting our incurable blackcock fixes on the sly… without renting a motel room, which might not have been a bad idea, at that.

Besides giving Chantel and I just enough hard black cock to tide us over—until the next time we realized we had gone entirely too long without a “real” cock inside us… Chantel had introduced my to the amazingly stimulating buzz world of vibrators, and knowing that the black dildo we were now sharing with increasing frequency had once been used by and on Chantel”s own mother… Well, as that little blonde slut, Julie, would likely put it; “That was like… a fucking mega-major turn on.” But, as the guys put it, neither of those substitute “girl”s toys” was like getting it from a real “live” cock.

Anyway, during all three of these blackcock car fucks, Darnell and Clay had voiced wishes (closer to being hard-pressed suggestions) that I sample several more young black cocks on the football team, before they graduated and moved away from Summerset. Including other young black cocks into our orgy games could hold the very real potential for very pleasurable discoveries and I was beginning to give very serious consideration about acceding to my young black lover”s panty-wetting “more young black cocks” demands.

On the Monday leading up to the team”s second to last game, I was informed that the salaciously taboo thoughts I had been having on a daily basis, of more than two young black cocks taking their white English Lit teacher—in all of her slutty holes at the same time—which were causing me to change the saturated sanitary napkin nestled in the skimpy crotch of my new sexy bikini panties while at school with increasing regularity, stood a very good chance of coming to fruition.

Stopping by the classroom on her way to cheerleading practice, Chantel asked if Edwin would mind my chaperoning the cheerleading squad at an out-of town game. “I doubt if he”ll know either of us is gone,” was my snorted reply. Edwin had some upcoming conference to prepare for and would probably welcome a golden opportunity to shove two constantly laughing females right out the front door.

Chantel nodded her understanding. “Then we”ll bring overnight bags with us to school Friday morning, so there won”t be any reason for going back home.” She went on to explain that six buses would be going over to the game Friday afternoon; two for the team, three more for parents and friends who didn”t want to drive to see the game, and a small one for the cheerleaders. With a conspiratorial wink, she laid out the rest of it. “On the way back Friday night, the small bus, which will be carrying some select players, and just you and I, is guaranteed to break down a couple of miles outside of town.”

Not bad; it was a workable plan. “And who thought up with this naughty little scheme?”

“Darnell and Clay came up with it initially, but they wanted you and I to drive over so we would have a way of getting back Saturday.” Chantel propped her elbows on the desk and cradled her chin on her laced together fingers. “I don”t know about you, but I don”t relish driving almost sixty miles on snowy roads, especially after spending the night getting my brains fucked out, so I revised things a little. I told them that the small bus breaking down would provide a plausible excuse for stranding us there for the whole weekend until it”s fixed, and that it wouldn”t require any convoluted explanations to family and faculty when we got back.”

And, Chantel pointing out to Darnell and Clay that two nights and two days, instead of just Friday night, in connecting motel rooms would give us all a lot more time to have some mega-multiple black cock fun had, apparently, swung them over to her side. “You”re getting to be a real conniving bitch, young lady.”

“That”s cause I”ve moved in with a really sexy teacher, who”s every bit as conniving in her own right.” Chantel looked over her shoulder, saw that the coast was clear, and gave me a quick peck on the lips. “See ya at home, Mrs. Chapel.”

Chantel purposely waggled her delightfully sassy ass at me as she hurried off to cheerleading practice and I couldn”t help thinking that, if this young lady became any more conniving, she would be a perfect candidate for your CIA.

* *

Friday felt like it would never arrive, and yet the time for backing out was upon me before I think I was completely ready for the consequences of what would (not could) lay ahead for me when the doomed bus broke down on the way home.

As a sensible precaution, Chantel and I rode to school together in my car Friday morning. Since the teacher”s parking lot was more secure—by being well lit, and also patrolled at night by the police, where the student parking area wasn”t, should anything “unexpected” happen—like one of the buses braking down and stranding us for the whole weekend—there was far less chance of anything untoward happening to my expensive Lexus than to Chantel”s “obviously abandoned” car.

That morning was an anxious time for me… on several levels. I couldn”t wait for game time, so I—like all of those attending from out-of-town-Summerset—could watch our boys win one more in what we all hoped would be their first undefeated season. I was also more than a little anxious about what further taboos I would have to opportunity of wallowing in after the “arraigned for” bus breakdown took place on the way back home.

And naughty Chantel didn”t cut me any slack by blatantly showing me how neglectful she had been when visiting the girl”s restroom before coming into class. As was customary, she had worn her cheerleading outfit to school, but her parting her legs every couple of minutes, clearly showing me that she had not only forgotten to put the powder blue panties that went with her short skirt back on after peeing, but hadn”t bother wearing even a thong underneath them, made for a very confused explanation of Hamlet”s soliloquy where the rest of the class was concerned.

I finally gave up attempting to explain anything, told the class to read it for themselves and give me a one-page explanation of what they thought it meant Monday morning, and retreated behind the comparative safety of my desk, where—ostensibly keeping a vigilant eye on the class from over the top of a propped up book—I stoled longing looks beneath the hem for Chantel”s short skirt and between her parted legs.

I even did something that, up until then, I had never done in school. Safely concealed behind the closed in front of my desk, I slid my hand under my own short skirt and inside the leg band of my skimpy panties and strummed my aching clit while watching Chantel suggestively wink back at me with her sneakily exposed wet pussy.

I was sorely tempted to pull her into one of the stalls in girl”s restroom after class and eat her to a quick cum, but Chantel”s more-controlled reasoning managed to hold me at bay. Barely. “We”ll have plenty of time for at least some pussy fingering on the bus after the game, Mrs. Chapel,” she promised on the way out to my car. “And after it “breaks down”, we”re going to have the whole weekend to suck titties, eat pussy, and tongue-tease each other”s asshole.” Her eyes lit up when I popped the trunk. “And, the number of hard black cocks we”re going to have to share for two nights and almost two whole days… Diane, I guarantee both of us are going to be walking bowlegged when we get home.” She removed her bag from the trunk while I slipped some of my hidden slut clothes into my overnight bag. “And the amount hot “nigger” cum we”re going to get shoot into our bellies, and in our cunts, and in our assholes… Why, we might be able to go three or four days before we need us a good, hard, blackcock/backseat fuck again.”

“If you”re trying to make my panties wet, young lady, you”re too late,” I snarled as I slammed the trunk closed and hit the button to lock the car up. “They were damp before we even got in the car this morning, and that deplorable pussy peep show you put on for me in class has now got them drenched.”

She leaned in close. “Then, you”re looking forward to the weekend… Slut?”

I shouldered my bag and took a deep breath. And the both of us screamed “Go Summerset!” as we raced each other for the waiting bus.

* *

To cut to the chase, we won 24-21 and the atmosphere out in the parking lot was, to say the least, jubilant. “Two more wins! Two more wins!” was the booming chant as our guys came out of the gym and strutted their “bad shit” on their way through the crowd to the waiting buses. One more win away and another win in the last game—played on our home turf—and Summerset would have its first ever undefeated season.

There was the expected confusion getting the buses loaded—everyone, naturally, wanted to ride back with our winning team on their buses. What no one seemed to notice (because they weren”t watching for it like I was) was the two men—two large, muscular, habitually stern-faced black men, who served in an exclusive “protective” capacity at school, singling out certain players and directing them to board the small bus.

Standing outside the clamoring crowd, waiting for Chantel to join me, I counted seven players—all black and all seven starting players—get on that bus. That meant that Chantel and I would have seven ecstatic, adrenaline-pumped black players to share for somewhere in the taboo neighborhood of the next forty-eight hours. Seven hard black cocks for mine and Chantel”s six horny white slut holes… providing the physically imposing pair of hunky black specimens, stoically standing guard at the doors of the almost loaded bus, weren”t going to be a part of this.

“Ike and Mike making your panties even wetter, Slut?” Chantel said, coming up behind me.

“If I was still wearing any, they would be about as much use as a thoroughly saturated sponge,” I unashamedly confessed.

“I”m afraid we have a problem, Diane,” Chantel said and I felt the rug about to be yanked from under me. I knew it; I just fucking knew it! Someone—a sharp-eyed teacher or a nosey parent—had caught wind of something unseemly in the air.

“How bad?” I groaned. It couldn”t be disastrous, or a cop would have told me that “we” had a problem, not Chantel, but the plans for our weekend blackcock orgy would have to be postponed, or worse yet, scrapped altogether if we were to remain above suspicion.

“It”s not insurmountable,” Chantel answered, “and might even prove entertaining.” She nodded her head at the only cheerleader not already on one of the other buses. “Julie caught on when she realized which players were being singled out for our bus and… and she wants in.”

“And if we don”t let her join in?”

“I doubt if she”ll say anything, Diane. She really can”t, since I have naughty little something else on Julie that she wouldn”t want her daddy knowing about… along with finding out that his precious, all American peaches and cream, butter-wouldn”t-dare-melt-in-her-mouth daughter is an insatiable black cock slut.” Chantel”s brow knitted. “But, you never know what some people will do when they feel they”ve been slighted.”

I cocked my head and gave Chantel a wry look. “This “naughty little secret” something I”ll find out if we include her?”

Chantel grinned. “I can guarantee it.”

I looked over at Julie. I was feeling pretty good about myself—slut wise—and knew that Chantel was looking forward to this blackcock gangbang as much as I was. And, having seen Julie on tape, I had a fair idea of what sort of sluttiness she was capable of. Ok, I decided, we”d see who had the makings for a proper nasty white slut for black cock, and who might need to hone her talents a bit more. “Go tell her to get her nasty young ass on the orgy bus,” I said firmly and headed off across the parking lot to clear the way with Ike and Mike for a third blackcock slut to join the party.

“Let my initiation commence”…

With Ike driving the bus and Mike tailing in the black SUV for rear security, as fortuned by the conniving witch, Chantel, our orgy coach broke down three miles outside of town, billowing clouds of steam ominously roiling out the front grill like there was a geyser, instead of an engine, under the hood. Mike called on his cell phone for a tow truck, then roared off to let the other buses know what had happen to us. Meanwhile, Ike stood guard outside the bus, his fully automatic Mac 10 held cocked and ready against his leg.

By the time Mike returned, the tow truck—driven by a black guy, with a black assistant—was already hooking up to our stranded bus. Then, two dark colored Suburbans pulled in—each driven by a stone-faced black guy—and seven pumped up black football players, two “Ra Ra Raing” white cheerleaders and their anxious white teacher/chaperone piled into them. The ride to the motel we would be staying at until the bus was repaired was a short one… only another mile farther down the road. It wasn”t a glaringly obvious “No Tell Motel”, but a family looking sort of place, empty of any other vehicles because it about to close for the winter, but “conveniently” had a double unit off to one side, “coincidentally” with connecting inside doors, that still had the water and electricity turned on.

To maintain respectable appearances—should anyone from the school, or a concerned parent check up on us, the guys were all signed into the large unit (with extra rollaway beds charged to and already waiting in the room to further cover our salacious tracks) while Chantel, Julie and I were “officially” checked into the smaller unit.

The first thing I did—being the adult chaperone—once the outside doors were closed and locked, with Ike and Mike standing guard on the other side, was to call a meeting of all concerned in the guy”s room. “Some of us know what this is really all about,” I started off in my controlled teacher”s voice. “For those of you who only have a pretty good idea, I”ll spell it out; the bus won”t be fixed until sometime Sunday and all of our meals will be brought in. No one is to leave here for any reason, short of a medical emergency.” I then let my pent up excitement take over. “Now for the fun part; from now until the bus pulls up outside, nudity, or near nudity, is the dress code and anything goes sex is the name of the game.” I brought a note of sternness back into my voice. “Anyone here who is not up to, or is against playing by these rules?”

Not a single derisive peep was heard out of anyone, but there was definitely a room full of huge grins. “Then I heartily suggest that we get this weekend orgy… underway!” I cheered. “Darnell, would you and the rest of the team kindly prepare the playing field while the “opposition” gets properly unsuited for the games in the other room.”

There was the hasty scrapping of beds, tables and chairs being shoved up against the walls as Julie, Chantel and I dashed into the adjoining room to get unsuited, meaning bare ass, ready to suck and get fucked, naked.

“It really threw me for a loop,” Julie said as she squirmed out of her cheerleading skirt and panties, “when Chanty told me this was your initiation in the Sluthood. Mrs. Chapel.”

I tossed my skirt onto the bed with my discarded blouse and questioned, “The Sluthood?” as I was undoing the front clasp of my new half-cup, uplift bra.

“That”s what those of us who get off on hard black cock call ourselves, Diane,” Chantel laughingly explained.

“The Sluthood. I get it now.” I dug in my bag for the pair of red crotchless panties I had stuff in it back in Summerset. “Why did this gangbang, apparently being held for my benefit, throw you, Julie?”

“Well, you just don”t seem the type, Mrs. Chapel. I mean, I, like, never would have guessed that you were into black cocks. I mean, you know, you”re just so… so…”

I pulled up my crotchless panties and approached Julie, who was standing there unsure of herself, but not, I was sure, because she was so delightfully naked. “So what, Julie? That, being a teacher, I”m too stuffy, or could it be that you think I”m too old to “get off” on being a slut for the guys in there?” I got right up in her face. “Or, do you think I”m too plain for young guys with hard black cocks to want anything to do with?”

Julie backed up. “No, it”s not that, Mrs. Chapel. You were like this… I mean, what you”ve done to your hair, you”re wearing more makeup now, you”re dressing sexier… You”ve become like this, mega-turnon person.”

Julie was clearly uncomfortable with me up in her face, so I closed the distance between us. “Do I turn you on, Julie?” I moved in even closer, so that—since I was taller then her—my elongated nipples were touching the tops of her breasts. “Am I turning you on right now, Julie? Are our tits touching making you wet?”

Julie couldn”t answer, but she didn”t need to. The way she was trembling, the fiery glint that was creeping into her blue eyes… I knew—without looking—that her pretty pink nipples were turning darker, because I could feel them becoming warmer as they began to harden and press against my tit flesh. I leaned back and glanced down between us. Several glistening dewdrops of aroused moisture could be seen collecting in the flaxen fleece of her pussy. There was no doubt about it; Julie was getting very turned on, and I was the one turning her sexual temperature upward by leaps and bounds.

I grabbed her hands and pulled her along as I backed up. When the backs of my calves bumped up against the bed, I sat down and opened my legs wide. “Show me, Julie,” I coaxed, “Show me how much I”ve got you turned on right now.”

Without hesitation, Julie sank to her knees, spread my swollen labia with trembling fingers, buried her face in my pussy and commenced to show me with her mouth just how helplessly turned on I had gotten her.

Chantel slid across the bed and hovered above my face. “There”s the naughty little secret, Diane; if she doesn”t have a couple of hard black cocks, or three of four of them, to keep her mouth, her hands, her blonde pussy and her slutty ass occupied, our All American cheerleader is an insatiable, carpet-munching lesbian.” She French kissed me upside down, feeding my welcoming mouth lots of slippery, probing tongue. She pulled her mouth from mine, scooted around to the side and ran her wet lips across my nipples. “Not even the guys know this about their little blackcock slut; only me, a couple of the other cheerleaders, and now you.”

“I”ll say this for our well-concealed lesbian…” I brought my ass up off the bed and ground my wet pussy against Julie”s sucking, slurping, tonguing, cunt-hungry mouth, “…she really gets into munching another slut”s juicy carpet.”

“I know,” Chantel replied in a dreamy voice. “How well I know.” She slid her cheek down my stomach, grabbed a fist full of Julie”s long blonde hair, and pulled the girl”s face up. “You like that mature pussy, Slut?” She yanked the girl”s hair when she got no response. “Tell me! ” she demanded. “Tell me how much you like the taste of my teacher”s hot, wet pussy in your nasty lesbian mouth.”

“I love Mrs. Chapel”s pussy,” Julie whimpered. “I”ll eat your teacher”s hot wet pussy as long as you want me to, Chanty. As… as long as Mrs. Chapel let”s me.”

Chantel smiled wickedly. “Diane spurts, just like I do when she cums, Julie.”

“I”ll make her cum, Chantel. And I promise, I won”t pull away when she spurts.” Julie flicked her tongue across my unhooded clit. “Just like you make me keep my mouth on your pussy, and keep it wide open, till you”re done gushing your sweet cunt cream into it.”

I had spurted a few time with Chantel, and riding Cannon”s fantastic cock I had actually gushed myself into unconsciousness. I hoped Julie wouldn”t be disappointed when my spurts—provided it happened this time—proved to a lot less inspiring then the copious gushings Chantel, apparently, made her ride out.

Chantel mashed Julie”s face back into my pussy. “Then do it!” Holding the young lesbian”s face hard against my pussy, she looked at me and shrugged her shoulder. “What can I say; she”s a sub lesbian slut.”

With the anticipation that had been steadily building inside me since Chantel had finger fucked me in the shower that morning, mentally, I was well beyond ready for an orgasm. Physically, I needed to cum badly and Julie”s talented mouth was rapidly getting me right there. That”s when a cultured British voice brought me back to the real reason this weekend had been staged for. “Have I stumbled upon the opposition”s warm up?”

I lifted my head off the mattress. Amir was standing in the connecting door, naked. I ran my eyes down his wiry, rich brown body to his darker groin. My eyes hungrily took in his nice ebony boner, jutting out so invitingly at me from a thick mat of jet-black pubic hair. I was almost sure D”bone”s was bigger, and I knew for a fact that Cannon”s was both longer and thicker, but this aristocratic Nubian”s hard black cock was not only a lot closer, the glistening tear of precum weeping from the peehole of his slender black cock was making my white slut mouth water terribly.

I motioned for him to come closer and when he knelt on the side of the bed, I took his cock in my hand. It was so hard and so warm to the touch. Nubian”s was the first uncircumcised cock I had ever seen… outside of pictures on the Net. After rescuing that precious tear of precum with the tip of my tongue, I worked the loose foreskin forward and back and found it stimulating seeing the angry red head pop out of its protective hood every time I stroked back on his cock.

I licked my lips and drew his cock to them, rubbing the head across them until it glistened with my saliva. I licked my lips again—to get a taste of him—then took the head of his cock between my pursed lips and drew half of it into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around his cock, enjoying the feel and taste of it on my tongue. I took more of Nubian”s cock into my mouth, until the head was at the entrance to my throat. Appearances could be deceiving, I realized. The first time I had taken any cock into my mouth, at this point, I”d had four fingers curled around D”bone”s hard black cock. Now, sampling my third hard black cock, I still had that much of Nubian”s ebony shaft left to take. Nubian”s deceptive cock was at least as long as D”bone”s.

I slid my hands to Nubian”s tight ass and urged him to move up until his groin was over my face. This gave us both a straighter line of decent and, without any further urging from me, Amir easily slid all seven inches his cock down my throat. With his balls against my mouth and my nose nestled in his musky pubic hair, I began to suck him off… literally. Nubian never once attempted to fuck his cock in and out of my mouth and with his weight on my face—keeping the back of my head pressed against the mattress—all I could do was suck… like a hungry baby nursing on a very long black nipple.

In the mean time, Julie”s voracious mouth had my stomach churning its warning that I was about to cum. I accelerated my vacuum sucking on Nubian”s cock, working my mouth and the flat of my tongue and my swallowing throat muscles harder and faster around and against and along that throbbing tube of black man flesh. I wanted to experience spurting watery cunt cream in an insatiable young lesbian”s mouth, and swallow the delicious slimy cum from a hard black cock, at the same time.

I timed it almost dead on the money; my first spurt of scalding cunt cream was erupting into Julie”s mouth just as Nubian”s first jet of hot cum shoot down my throat. The simultaneous cummings also ended in a tie; half a dozen spurts, total, of my cunt cream into Julie”s wide-open mouth and five more healthy helpings of Nubian”s cum joined the first one in my belly… though I did have to coax the sixth tasty course of Nubian”s sweet cum from his balls all on my own.

To be continued…