Chapter 1: The First Meeting
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa, Consensual, Lesbian, Interracial, Oral Sex, Petting, .
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1: The First Meeting - I meet a sexy black girl and the lust we have for each other is undeniable.
I didn't want to come to this party and neither did my husband, only it's a work's thing in a swanky hotel and it would have looked bad if we hadn't showed. I don't mind the guys, they're all right, it's the women, all bitchy and stuck up as if they're something really special.
The women all talk to me like I'm dirt, just because I don't play along and act all impressed by their holiday in Barbados, or whatever it is they're bragging about. When I tell the silly cow I'm stuck with that our last holiday abroad was to Greece, I get:
"Oh you didn't? that's so passé."
I'd love to tell her we both got off with a couple of hot German lesbians and had a brilliant time, but I'm pretty sure that such a revelation wouldn't go down too well and I think better of it.
The women here are sneery about my clothes as well, which is stupid because I know damn well I look ten times sexier than they do. None of the guys' heads turn at their hideous designer frocks, while my cute little butt all nicely packaged in my tight fitting pencil skirt gets plenty of admiring glances. My seamed stockings and high heels go down a treat with the boys as well.
"A bit tarty for my taste, if you don't mind me saying so."
I don't mind at all, being 'a bit tarty' is the whole point. I'm his cute little fuck slut and I'll be getting my brains banged out later tonight - will you? I don't think so.
The guys daren't talk to me for more than a few seconds at a time, their wives give them the evil eye if they so much as say hello to me. I'm the company whore as far as the other women are concerned, but I wouldn't dream of dropping my panties for anyone here, except my husband of course. Although there is someone who's caught my attention, a girl around my age who keeps looking my way. She doesn't look comfortable here either, sat all alone in her little black dress.
I escape from the dead end conversation I'm lumbered with by wandering over to the bar to have my glass refreshed, as I stand there the sexy black girl who's been watching me comes over and stands beside me.
"I like your skirt," she says.
"Oh thanks," I reply. "I like your dress." Which is true, she looks brilliant.
"They're awful here aren't they?" she remarks.
"The women you mean?"
"Yeah, not my type at all," she says.
"Oh, what's your type then?" I ask her.
"Little blonde white girls in tight skirts and seamed stockings."
"I'm joking," she says.
"Well no, I'm not actually. I think you're gorgeous."
"Really?" I can hardly believe she said that.
"Yes really," she replies. "I really fancy you if you want to know the truth."
I'm lost for words. I look at her in a different way after her nice compliments about me. I was attracted to her before without thinking why, now I realize just how very lovely she is. Her jet black face is so pretty with neatly plucked eyebrows, big brown eyes, and such luscious and kissable glossy lips. Her frizzy hair looks nice as well, cut short and neatly following the shape of her head.
Her short, tight dress shows off her fit looking body to perfection, her shapely, bare legs are exposed to high up the thigh. Not much fat on this girl and her tits are little more than bumps, no need for a bra and her nipples poke proud and free against the fabric pulled taught across them.
Well I never, a black girl this beautiful fancies little old me.
"I'm Steffanie," I tell her.
"I'm Chloe," she replies.
"That your husband then?" she asks, nodding towards my man.
She must have been watching me all evening because I haven't spoken or stood near him for quite a while now.
"That's him all right," I tell her. "Are you on your own then?"
"Yeah, I only just joined. I'm Mr Robinson's new P.A."
"He's OK isn't he?" I ask her.
"He's all right, but I think I only got the job because he wants to fuck a black girl."
I think she's great, she's so upfront, honest and cheeky with it. None of the stuck up bullshit like you get from all the other women here. I bet they already hate Chloe even more than they hate me.
She talks a lot too, she soon explains why her new boss has no chance whatsoever of fucking her, no man has, well maybe someone really, really special. But for the moment it's girls she likes and a certain little blonde white girl is now top of her list.
"I love your hair," she tells me.
"Why thank you, I er..."
"Just being honest," she says.
"That's OK, I'm very flattered, thank you."
"Can I touch it?" she asks.
"Er ... yes, if you like,"
She gathers a few strands of my blonde hair and runs her fingers through it. I feel like a pussy cat being petted and her tender touch sends tingles down my spine.
"It's so soft," she says and I'm being overwhelmed by her forthright approach.
"Ever been with a girl then?" she asks, diving straight in again.
I'm left speechless by her frankness, I've had girls come on to me before but never so fast and blatantly as this. I don't know what to say but she doesn't mind, she knows she must have shocked me coming out with it all like she has. Finally I get my thoughts together and answer her question.
"Well, I met a girl in Greece I really liked."
"Oh yeah, what happened then?" she asks, as bluntly as ever.
I tell her all about my holiday romance in Lesbos with the adorable Lara. I tell her the whole story, which is nice because I like talking about it and seldom get the chance. I'm almost in tears by the end as all my precious memories of my dear German girl come flooding back.
"Ah, that's so sweet," she says. "Didn't your husband mind?"
"Well him and Lara's friend got together, but anyway, he says girl on girl doesn't count."
"Why's that then?" she asks.
"Because he'll get off on it as well."
"I fancy you Steffanie, not your husband."
"He means just thinking about it."
"Dirty bastard," she says, jokingly.
"That's him," I tell her, not joking.
I've dropped myself right in it now, I've as good as told Chloe that hubby won't mind her making advances on me. He's not even fantasised about this scenario happening and neither have I, there are very few black girls in our town, so I've never met one to dream of.
"Well, do you like me then?" she asks. "Do you fancy black girls?"
I feel awful that she has to ask, she's been turning me on with all her compliments and I've hardly said one nice thing in response. I'd feel awkward now if I told her how beautiful I think she is.
So instead of using words to flatter her I do something physical, I gently stroke her bare arm, she smiles at me and I look deep into her eyes. My awkwardness drains away and I tell her I think she's lovely and one of the sexiest women I've ever met. Chloe smiles again and says thank you because she can tell I sincerely mean it.
I can't help staring at her arm, with my pale, white hand upon it she seems even blacker. I'm fascinated by her deep ebony color, I have to say something because I find her skin so attractive.
"You're so ... so very..."
"Black?" she says.
"Yes ... I..."
"And you're so very white," and she strokes my arm now.
"You can say black you know," she tells me.
"I'm sorry. I've never really known any black girls."
"That's pretty obvious," she says.
She's not offended, she's playing with me and gently mocking my naivety about her race.
"You don't sound black," I tell her, showing my silly ignorance again.
"How should I sound?"
"I don't know ... Jamaican or something."
"I was born in Ghana," she tells me. "But I went to school at Roedene."
All I know about Ghana is it's in Africa. I'm much more familiar with Roedene because it's not far from where we live, it's a traditional boarding school for rich daddies' girls. They turn out very proper young ladies with pure English voices, or 'posh totty' as my husband would say.
"Is Roedene where you got to like girls?" I ask her.
"White girls, I like little blonde white girls."
"Yes, so you said. Shall we sit down?" I ask her.
We choose a quiet corner where we can settle down on a nice comfy sofa. I really like being with Chloe, she's charming and easy to talk to. Her direct approach soon rid me of my clumsy inhibitions, so when she sits down and her short dress reveals even more of her smooth, naked thighs, I feel free and confident enough to pass comment.
"You've got fantastic legs," I tell her.
"Thanks," she replies, then makes a sexy show of crossing those same fabulous legs. A lot more sexy black thigh is exposed and I'm beginning to lust after her now.
"Do you think my dress is too short?" she asks me. "Do you think I look slutty?"
"Oh, Chloe. You look really classy."
"Hmm," she goes. "Well you look slutty, that's one reason I fancy you so much."
I grab her leg and we both wriggle and giggle like schoolgirls fooling around. I can't deny I look slutty, I've already been told once this evening how tarty my seamed stockings are.
"If you fancy me like this," I tell her. "You should see me in my lingerie."
"I'd love to, Steffanie," she says. "I'd really love to see you in your lingerie."
That's gone and done it! Now the heat is really turned up. We go quiet and Chloe turns to face me, she moves closer and rests one hand on my shoulder and the other high on my thigh. I can hardly object, seeing as I was squeezing her thighs only a few seconds ago.
My skirt might be hiding my saucy lingerie secrets, but it can't prevent Chloe from feeling them through the fabric, her wandering hand soon finds one of the four metal clasps holding my seamed stockings up. She gives me a knowing look as her fingers play with the clasp, then she feels her way along the strap and locates the adjuster, which she gently presses into my flesh.
I go tense in response to her sexy explorations and my mouth suddenly feels dry. Chloe is clearly enjoying my lingerie without even needing to undress me, she's seducing me and I feel so aroused by her. In my mind she already has me naked and spreading my legs for her, I expect at any moment she'll make her move and claim me as hers.
"You're wearing seamed stockings for me now," she whispers.
"Yes," I whisper back. "I am."
I'm not entirely sure what Chloe meant by that comment, but I think I just agreed to allow her to have me. We look intently at one another and she slowly moves her face towards mine, parting her lips slightly as she does so. I think she's going to kiss me and feelings of panic run through me. This isn't real, I was only playing, I know I said yes but I'm married, I don't get off with sexy black girls. I don't because I ... because I've never had the chance to until now.
I excuse myself and scurry off to the ladies room in a whirl of confused arousal. I feel all giddy as I study my flushed face in the mirror. I think no, I can't make love with Chloe, but then I picture her in my mind and I know full well how much we both want each other ... then my lovely lesbian suitor walks in.
"I'm sorry," she says. "Was I too forward back then?"
I don't answer her, instead I turn and wrap my arms around her neck and kiss the sexy black beauty full on the lips. I take immediate control, she's taller and stronger than me but I force her back against the wall. Our mouths open wide and our kissing is driven with raw passion.
I lift her dress and feel the top of her thighs, she's so silky and smooth. Her arms are around me and her tongue is in my mouth as my hand finds her panties. I'm soon in them and intent on knowing the feel of her pussy.
She breaks off from kissing me and we stare eye to eye as I gently explore her with my hand. She offers no resistance and sighs when I fondle her, then gasps with sweet pain when I enter her. I press deeper and she easily succumbs to my urgent desires and demands of her.
Chloe groans in blissful response as I thrust two fingers hard and deep up her wet pussy, our eyes stay transfixed in a dreamy stare that silently exchanges feelings of lust and affection. We're black and white, so different to look at but our minds are locked in an amazing rapport. Something so erotic and wondrous is ours for the taking and our expressions tell us our intentions, we're both set on seizing and sharing everything on offer.
My black beauty sinks down a little, parting her legs more for me, she's loving it so I give it harder. She calls my name repeatedly as I keep on enjoying her with my hand. Her cunt feels so wet, she easily takes all my fingers and I'm just about to ... when the door opens and I'm out of her in an instant.
Luckily, it's no one from the work's do that comes in, just as well because Chloe needs time to recover from me fingering her so hard. We're still standing close up facing each other and she's breathing heavily and her short dress is all ruffled up. The woman who's just walked gives us a puzzled look but nothing more.
"We need a room," my beauty whispers, and while the other washroom visitor takes a pee, Chloe pulls me to her and kisses me again in a long and sloppy, French snog. She's an awesome kisser and while our lips are engaged she fumbles for her turn in my pussy, but my skirt is like a fortress, I'll have to strip it off to let her have me. She's right, we do need a room.
"Come on," I tell her, and lead her out to return to the sofa.
My husband is standing at the bar, getting the drinks for his colleagues in. Chloe is so new he's never seen her before, she goes all shy in front of him and I realize she made a huge effort in being so bold with me earlier. She really does fancy me like crazy.
Chloe takes hold of my hand and we stand before my husband like two little girls about to own up to doing something naughty. It's quite an awkward situation, I have to ask my husband if he has any objections to his wife taking this beautiful black girl as her lover.
Asking him isn't going to be as easy as I expected, despite his silly girl on girl doesn't count nonsense. Of course it counts, Chloe and I are desperate to make love, but my marriage comes first, I must have his permission.
"What's wrong with you two?" Hubby asks.
"Er ... we have a problem, I think," I tell him.
"What's that then?" he asks,
"We, I..." and I'm losing it again.
"I want to get a room with your wife," blurts out Chloe, fighting to have me.
"Oh, I see," he replies. "And what about afterwards?"
"There is no afterwards."
Clever Chloe, that was the only right answer.