Chapter 2

Weird. To this day, I can remember a loud cricket out in the shadowy trees just as Mrs. Jenkins braced. Although ready to flee as I “attacked” her, whatever cry she’d prepared died in a whimper at the brutal shove of my fingers into the low back of her dress.

With a growl, I yanked.

Rip!

After only the slightest resistance, the zipper came apart in my fists. As her eyes widened, the little blonde’s jaw trembled for the first time. After her dress’s thin flapping halves shredded in my hands, I flung the material towards the ground. Once it’d dropped to the dirt, she stood in only black lace panties, taut over her pale pelvis. So firm, her bare tits mashed into me. Thick rubbery stems dragged along my shirt.

Notwithstanding the hammering of my heart, I leaned back to stare into her wide, glittering eyes. My hands gripped her lace-clad butt tighter.

“No!” After the sudden yell, Mrs. Jenkins tried to pull away while screaming and beating against my spine. “You fucking animal! You beast.”

Despite the screams and more curses, her tugging frame shuddered in my grip. In the dirty leaves, her stomping shoes dragged the red satin puddle encircling her ankles. At last, I mashed her hips into me. With an abrupt hiss, she stared at me as her eyes fluttered.

“Oh, fu—” Her high-pitched voice disappeared into a hitching moan as she ground herself against my fully engorged bulge. “No! Please, Hiram ... Oh—” Her protest died in another whimper when I spun her in my arms and clasped both tits.

When my fingertips found those thick, heated stems and twisted, a much louder winding cry tore from Mrs. Jenkins. Moan after moan pulled from her. All pretense of escape gone, she shifted from pulling away to pressing into me.

At his gasp, I looked at Coach’s shadowy silhouette. With his shorts crumpled at his feet, his breathing was labored. My chest tightened at the fist easing along his shaft. Okay. Well, at least he wasn’t complaining.

I was only an actor. Simply playing a role. And not a bad one, since Mrs. Jenkins’ warm body squirmed beneath my outstretched hands. Yeah, her whole “rape” idea had faded.

Still, time to put on that acting hat.

“Whore. You just gonna let me play with your titties?”

At my words, she snapped back into her part.

“No!” While trying to pull from me, she spat the rest towards the cameras. “Leave my breasts alone! You ... You filthy nigger.”

As my widespread fingers clamped her soft, firm tits, my chest seized.

Nigger?

Now, for the record, she’d never said anything ... Well, that anything racial was part of the deal. Neither of them had. And I hadn’t really thought through what this must’ve looked like. I mean, I saw myself swinging from a tree. But I couldn’t have imagined her tiny white frame slapping, or half-heartedly pulling from my towering muscled black frame. So, yeah, there may have been a racial undertone. Was the guy they’d been meeting also black?

Nonetheless, I’d agreed to her fantasy. So, with cameras rolling and Coach’s face reddening, I gulped. Okay. Duh, I could play that part, too.

“My full black nigger cock is getting so hard for you, little white whore,” I said while giving the thrusting firm flesh of her chest a squeeze.

After letting one boob sway free, I grabbed her hand. Not only didn’t she resist, but she shoved it between us to press into me. After her scrabbling fingers curled, or tried to curl, around the swell in my pants, a tremor wriggled through her.

Yeah, by then I was rock hard.

For the first time, I saw her eyes widen with concern. Her whimpers stuttered to a halt as she shot a glance at her husband. But bent behind the camera, with his fist making a slow twist as it continued to glide, he didn’t react.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you, white whore?” After pushing through her tickling blonde hair, I drove my face along her silken cheek and added with a whisper. “My big black cock is hungry for that tiny white pussy.”

“No—” Her plea became a yelp, matched by Coach’s gasp, when I flung her to her knees facing me. As she drove the toes of her shiny heels into the forest litter, they kicked up leaves.

With one hand buried in her hair, my fingers clamping her skull, I used the other to yank down my zipper. As her boobs heaved upward, Mrs. Jenkins stared at me. Beneath the dappled shadows and silvery starlight, her green eyes glistened. Somewhere off in the blurry dark distance behind me, her husband murmured something, then groaned.

Was I really going to do it?

“No! You can’t. You filthy nigger!” she screamed up at me.

No. No, I wasn’t. I panicked. Once I’d tugged my throbbing cock free of my trousers, everything moved in slow motion.

Mrs. Jenkins’ next cry died on her lips as she locked onto my wavering mast.

Shimmering molten emerald pools, her brilliant green eyes widened

Both her eyebrows shot upward.

Her jaw dropped.

A million miles away, Coach’s muffled groan made it through the pounding in my ears.

My momma had always said I was bigger than most boys. Until that night in the woods, nobody but hungry, cock-gobbling Cyril and lap-riding, drunken Mindy LeBlanc had seen me erect.

There was no way it was gonna work. With a groan, I whipped away.

Slap!

“Oh,” shot from her.

After the accidental, but meaty collision of my cock across her cheek, time slowed to a crawl as Mrs. Jenkins’ head spun to one side. My gaze locked onto the already darkening mark across her pale skin.

At that point, the entire universe simply ceased to exist. My heart stopped. Striking her like that ... It had been too much. Inappropriate and far beyond her silly fantasy. Even though I’d been complicit with the racial stuff, I hadn’t been ready. Her words ... The way she’d screamed them. They’d cut deep.

Even Coach had stopped in mid-groan. At any second, I expected the crunching of his heavy footfalls rushing closer. His hands to latch onto me before tugging me from his wife.

But he hadn’t moved.

And in my shadow, all his wife did was run her glistening tongue along her glossy red lips, swallow and look up at me. When the tiniest smile, devilish, crept onto her face, my pulse raced. From that angle, it was only for me. Neither her husband nor the camera could see it. Nor could they view the way her eyes roamed my towering rod. Nor the widening grin. At her expression, my entire body surged with—I don’t know—I guess lust.

“Please, Hiram! Don’t...” Her words did not match the hungry look on her face. “What if I—”

Her attempt at bargaining ended in a low growl when I tugged on my dick, pulling the rest of it free. After several rapid blinks, her eyes widened as she leaned closer to inspect it. As her hot breath raced over my bulb, I glanced at her husband. While one hand was stroking faster, he gestured at his wife with the other.

“Again. Slap her with it. Slap her good, Hiram.”

What? With what? Oh. Again? It’d only been an accident. But I looked down at Mrs. Jenkins, fixated on my shaft, sending ever quicker huffing breaths along my turgid flesh. As her shaking arms raised, her opening fingers were reaching for it. Okay. Sure. I guess. Acting, right?

With my fingers tight at its base and pulse thumping beneath my fist, I swung my thick ebon cock. Though her eyes followed it, she remained motionless but for her hands dropping away.

Thump.

After the solid impact on the same cheek I’d slapped before, her head spun. In the dim starlight, a glistening trail of pre-cum twirled free of my dark purple knob to stick across her swaying blonde tresses.

When she returned to me, eyes wide and clenching her teeth, I hit her again, this time on the other cheek. As the faintest whimper slipped from her shaking lips, she arched an eyebrow. Oh. Right. I was supposed to be acting.

“That’s right, you filthy white whore,” I growled as she raised her face to accept another blow. With racing air hissing from her parted, glinting lips, she heaved her pale tits upwards, displaying them for me. “You like it, don’t you? Getting beaten down by a filthy nigger’s huge fucking cock. A real man’s cock.”

At Coach’s gasp, I looked at him. His hand was frozen in mid-stroke. Not that I’d noticed, but his dick was small, not even poking beyond his fist. I hadn’t meant to offend him. I’d simply been—acting. With a gulp, I turned away, figuring to see his wife also shocked at my words.

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The Coach's Wife

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