The party was kind of dull until Allen asked me to dance. He was a big black athlete, but what the hell, I thought. At least he's probably a good dancer. Most white guys can't dance to save their lives. If they knew how sexy girls find it when a guy is a good dancer, they would all learn, for sure.
I had always avoided black guys. It always seemed like they just wanted to score with a white girl, especially a pretty blonde, like me. My parents had always made it clear that they thought a white girl with a black man was wrong. I have to say I thought they were right. I figured the white girls that went with black guys either couldn't find a white boyfriend or were sluts with kinky desires.
It wasn't that I didn't find some black guys attractive. I just knew they weren't my type. Allen turned out to be a great dancer, very sexy. He was attractive too, tall with muscles that rippled all over. He was very dark.
"It's nice to dance with a guy who knows how for a change", I said, just trying to be sociable.
"Never dance with a black guy before, huh?"
"Well, no, I guess not."
"You buy all that bull about black guys just dyin' to get them a blonde?"
"No, it just never happened. I'm dancing with one now, aren't I?"
"People don't like to talk about it, but there's something to it. There's something electric about a black man and a blonde. It wasn't that long ago that a black could get lynched for dancing with a girl like you, let alone having sex with her. And white girls all seem to think that black men are all sex machines with foot long dicks. They've all got a fantasy in the back of their heads about being ravished by a big black buck from the slave quarters. All that history excites the brain, you know?"
"So black guys are as lousy in bed as white guys, huh?" I thought I'd tease him a little.
"No. Black guys are good in bed for the same reason they can dance. They got soul."
"You think so? I don't believe it."
"I can prove it to you. Come up stairs with me. Just 5 minutes. I won't touch you below your shoulders. After 5 minutes we can come back downstairs if you want."
"I'm not going to do that!" I was indignant.
"Don't trust the nigger to keep his word, huh?"
I was shocked to hear that word. "No, I just..." My voice trailed off.
"You're just scared, that's all. The old taboos have got you. I know you enjoyed dancing with me. I think you're curious what it feels like to kiss a man with thick lips like mine, aren't you?"
I'm sure I blushed. I HAD wondered about that.
"Come on, Cindy. Show me you're not just another racist white girl."
I hesitated for a long pause. "All right. You'll see." I was going to show him. Boy was I wrong.
Upstairs we went into a dark room and it turned out to be the master bedroom. We left the lights off and locked the door.
"You look nervous. Let's smoke some weed first."
I WAS nervous. I jumped at the chance. "Sure."
After we had passed the joint back and forth 3 or 4 times, my head was floating. Allen had lit a couple of candles that were on the night stands.
"You ready now?"
"I guess so." My stomach fluttered a little.
We had been sitting on the bed, but now we laid down on it. I was on my back and he was next to me, up on his elbow.
He started by just stoking my hair. It felt wonderful to be petted like that. Then his fingers trailed gently along my cheek and the line of my jaw. It was sensual and sweet. The weed in my brain seemed to make everything more important, more sensual, more arousing. He was only stroking my cheek with his hand and I could already feel warmth and moisture between my legs. His head leaned toward me and I anticipated his kiss. My lips fell slightly open and I could hear myself breathe a little harder. I was already getting aroused. His lips were full and sensuous. They just brushed mine at first, then began to nibble. He grabbed my lower lip between his and pulled at it. The anticipation was killing me. I wanted a real kiss. Instead he began kissing softly all over my face and neck. It was very nice. When he finally found my lips again, my mouth was open and waiting. I felt his tongue on my lips and met it with my own. His thick lips were so sensuous. I was acutely conscious that I was kissing a black man. So far, it WAS better than any white guy I had kissed. The fact that it was forbidden made it even more exciting.
He just held my cheek gently with his hand and we continued kissing until it was clear that we had been at for more than 5 minutes. He broke the kiss and whispered in my ear. "You can quit now. If you stay though, you're going to do whatever I ask. You'll be the beautiful daughter of the slave owner who can't resist the nigger from the slave quarters. Do you want to leave?" Never in my life had I been so aroused and all we had done was kiss. "No, I don't want to leave." I was horny and the weed had sapped my normal inhibitions. If I had clearly pictured what would happen, I probably would have left anyway, but I just thought we would be petting and maybe give each other hand jobs.
As soon as I assented, Allen's hand slid down to my breasts. His touch was electric. A black guy was feeling up my breasts. It felt good, it was exciting, it was wicked. "Take your top off. Show your breasts to the nigger." The word shocked me again. As I unbuttoned my blouse, I kept thinking, 'Show your breasts to the nigger. The nigger is going to see your breasts.' My stomach was tense and nervous with anticipation. The cool air hit my breasts. The nipples were stiff already.
Allen's lips closed around one nipple and sucked. A long moan came from my lips. "Aaaaaaahhhhhhh." After sucking on my breasts for a while, he abruptly stood up.
"Come here." I soon stood in front of him. "Want to see my cock?" I realized I did.
"Yes, I do." He unzipped his pants and exposed his boxers.
"You take it out. Get on your knees." I sank to my knees simply because he wanted me to. I realized I was humiliating and degrading myself. It shocked me to know that I wanted it that way, that it made me even more aroused. I reached into his boxers and freed his cock, which sprang forward. It was long and black. I was shocked how black it was. I wrapped my hand around it and the contrast was striking. My hand was pale white around the black shaft. I knew I was supposed to suck it now. I placed my lips on the head of his cock and massaged it with them. The head was fat. As I slipped my lips over it, it stretched them much wider than I expected. The big cock in my mouth made my vagina incredibly hot.
"You like sucking my cock?"
"Say it, Cindy."
"I like sucking your cock." My voice shook as I said it. I trembled when I said 'cock'.
"It excites you to suck nigger cock, doesn't it?"
"Oh my God, I'm sucking nigger cock."
"The nigger is going to come in you mouth, Cindy. What are you going to do?"
"I don't know. Please. Don't."
"Stop if you want. You can get up and leave any time." I didn't stand up. I kept sucking softly at the end of his staff.
"Oh, God, I can't help it." Tears squeezed out of my eyes. "I'm afraid it will flood my mouth and choke me." I stood up and turned away. "Please, don't make me do that."
"That's fine, Cindy. You can leave, but it means you broke your promise." He held me from behind, while I sobbed. His embrace felt good and my sobbing stopped.
"Can we do something else?" I whispered.
"No, we had an agreement. You can leave or stay and do as I ask. Do you want to leave?" I didn't want to leave. I said in a tiny voice, "no".
"What was that?"
"I said no, I don't want to leave."
.... There is more of this story ...