One lazy Sunday morning Emma was having a semi-serious conversation with her kitty. “You know, Puss, I think it’s time I had a black man for a lover.”

Kitty pursed her lips. “Why?”

“For the experience,” Emma answered.

“Not every black man has a humongous dong,” Kitty informed Emma.

“I know.”

“And I know your pussy’s quite petite.”

“Junior size zero,” Emma kidded. “It’s not the size that matters. It’s the kinky pubic fur. I crave the delicious friction of it against my own soft nest.”

Kitty nodded. “What if he’s shaved? You’d discard him?”

Emma smiled, a cat-like grin, and returned Kitty’s nod.

“I know a fellow might suit you. Shall I bring him round?”

“Yes please,” Emma said.

Sambo showed up not thirty minutes later. Three minutes after that he and Emma were naked.

“You’re not little,” Emma observed, admiring his penis and pouch. “And you’re not shaved.” Her fingers tested the nap of Sambo’s pubic thatch. “Should we do it?”

“Don’t you want to get to know me first?” Sambo asked.

“I want to get to know you during,” Emma replied. “Fuck me.”

It was a most fabulous fuck. Sambo took it slow. Drenched with girl-cream and kiss juice, Emma’s sex eventually yielded. The big cock filled her cunt. The grooves of Sambo’s balls, rippled as a walnut shell, hugged Emma’s anus. His pubic weave knitted Emma’s, and when together they moved, Emma came almost instantly. She came a dozen times more before noon arrived, and when Sambo joined her, erupting majestically, Emma’s fuck hole met each jolt with a spasm of ecstasy.

They lay back, sated.

“Before round two shall we take a pancake break?” Emma asked.

“That would be grand,” Sambo said.

Kitty agreed. “But,” she said, “no butter on mine please.”