Wendy, I was reading a story on StoriesOnline this morning, stroking my cock and thinking of you. Have you been busy sucking young men while I was jacking off, only getting to think about the pleasure of your mouth on my cock? I know, you like them young (as young as 12, you said.) What a lot of fantasies that inspires! I thought, for instance, about coming around a corner in my car one evening, and catching a fleeting glimpse of a group of black boys with a woman at the center, on her knees. Would that be my friend Wendy, I wondered? So, parking my car, I traveled back by foot to the corner. There, on a blanket thoughtfully laid on the ground, was the auburn-haired MILF I recognized immediately. One young man had his cock down her throat with the rest of the boys standing around stroking theirs, pointing and making lewd comments at you. You didn’t mind; you had a cock shoved in your open mouth, tickling your uvula as both he directed your head forward and back with both hands. He was using your face as a fuck toy, uncaring about the lines of drool swinging from your chin. You were in your ‘zone’, doing what you do best. I heard one boy say, “I’d fuck that slut’s face so hard her teeth be rattling!” and the rest of them laughed.

The dichotomy between you and your users was surprising, almost alarming. You were dressed nicely, as if to go to a club or a restaurant, while the crowd around you was mostly in satiny gym pants, hanging around the tops of their asses. Their sweaty wife-beater undershirts were a stark contrast to your crisp white blouse, pulled open to the waist. It looked as if they had opened your blouse to maul your tits, but I knew you had done it yourself. Your tanned breasts rose above your expensive-looking balconette bra, the nipples already red and swollen from their abuse over the last hour. As I watched, one of the boys came up behind you and grabbed both nipples in his dirty hands, and as you were made to continue worshiping the thick black rod in your throat, he pinched and squeezed, laughing as you squirmed. Your stocking tops were visible, as the skirt you wore was short; disgustingly short. I also noticed your hands clasped behind your back, obediently. Mmmmm, good girl! I edged closer to the action, staying in the shadows as I listened to the dirty talk, and to the slurping sounds of your wet mouth as the hung young Negro fucked your face.

Then it happened. One of the boys leaned over and wrapped his hands around your waist. The kid being sucked went, “What the fuck, man?” though he didn’t let you pull off his glistening ebony cock. “Gotta get her up so we can use that hole,” the youth told him. He nodded. The boy yanked you to your feet, so you had to bend at the waist to keep that treasured cock in your jaws. This was the moment of your ultimate surrender. As the kid yanked your skirt up I saw the garter belt, and observed that you wore no panties. This was no surprise to this gang of boys; they had often used you in your neighbor’s basement playroom. The almost-full moon played upon the shiny lines of juice trickling down your inner thighs. You were wet and ready, and without invitation or warning the youth plunged his massive shaft of meat into your soaking tunnel. You spread your thighs, even as he invaded your cunt, giving him as much access as you could grant in your otherwise submissive state. You only groaned happily; this wasn’t your first spit-roast of the evening. They allowed you to rest your hands on the thighs of the boy you were sucking, then they began to pound you back and forth, like some human ping-pong ball. I heard you gasping, more out of lust than discomfort, as I knew you welcomed the rough treatment; set yourself up for it. Otherwise, what were you doing here, in this enclave of black thugs and rapists?

The answer - one of your young men brought you here. He wanted to get you out of your controlled setting, into his world. His friends, including some young men he didn’t know well, and anyone else who wandered by would have a chance at your upper-class mouth and pussy. I saw your black Mercedes parked nearby, and knew instinctively he had driven it here. You had no idea where he was going until he stopped, and the black men seemed to materialize from the darkness. He had set you up. Now, however, you didn’t mind. Your insatiable love for black meat, your gnawing hunger for those cum-loads down your throat, made you a willing participant. Not that it would have mattered, anyway. You were being groomed for this by every boy you had swimming in your pool, even if you thought it was you controlling the action. Fucking you at the neighbor’s was only a warm-up, for your talent and hunger for sex had become the stuff of legend, especially in the black community. Many fathers had heard about what their sons did to you. Even their mothers heard, shook their heads, and schemed how to make you completely submissive to the black race, so that they might use you as their maid some day, or worse. A few had a fetish for white sluts, as they often saw them traipsing back and forth in their projects and knew what they were there for - long black cock-meat. They had been raised submitting to those massive hanging beasts; it was still a new thing for most white sluts. And some of those sluts would eat a pussy, too!