I'm Not a Lesbian! - Cover

I'm Not a Lesbian!

by jack tar

Copyright© 2025 by jack tar

BDSM Sex Story: mature husband and wife trying to secure a deal with rich young couple are having dinner out, but the wife dosent want to deal with them but husband naively insists.

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Coercion   Reluctant   Lesbian   BiSexual   Cheating   FemaleDom   Humiliation   Interracial   Black Male   Black Female   Exhibitionism   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Public Sex   .

t was 5pm as Lindsey slipped into her black Chiara Boni La Petite Florian Side Ruffle dress for dinner with the Johnsons. It was a casual business dinner at her husband Joe’s fine dining restaurant Carte Blanche. Lindsey was extremely nervous wondering how Darius or his wife Denise would further debase and shame the belle. Lindsey asked her friend Katie and her husband Ashley to join them. Lindsey knew her best friend would have her back, even not knowing the situation.

Joe had no idea the duress his wife was under from the black power couple. He was singularly focused on the financial deal he was trying to establish. “The times they are a changing. Who would have ever thought we would have to deal with a black to expand...” He pondered as he zipped up his nervous wife’s dress.

“Remember to be your charming best. You and Denise need to bond more. They like to intimately know the people they do business with.”

“Intimate! That’s the understatement of the year, Joe! Don’t you see they want to own us? They’re the new plantation owners!” Lindsey curtly replied.

“Baby I think you’re exaggerating the situation. We will eat their lunch in the long run.” He ignorantly assured her.

“Oh darlin’, they are playing you like a country fiddle.” His wife tried to warn him. “Please, plum scrap the deal. Look what it’s already done to us...”

“Come on honey, we’re gonna be late,” He retorted as he kissed her on the cheek and they headed to their restaurant.

The Bransons provided the best seat in the house for this meeting, a six top on the balcony overlooking downtown. Ashley and Katie had already arrived. The brunette looked like the voluptuous girl next door. It was impossible to hide her curves and sweet smile. The couples were chatting casually about life when the black power couple arrived.

The black Adonis, Darius, at 6’ 5” was dressed in a black suit with matching black t-shirt. He was a picture right out of GQ. However, every eye in the room was focused on his tall slender wife. She was exotic in every detail. Her long straight black hair fell just below her shoulders. There was an Egyptian Queen’s eroticism about her. She wore a fuchsia, asymmetrical, cloche satin dress that displayed deep cleavage, and exposed her pierced navel. Most of her firm b cup teardrop breasts were revealed to every eye in the place. Her elongated nipples almost pierced the satin material that was feebly attempting to conceal them. Likewise, her dress showed nearly as much leg as her succulent cleavage.

Introductions were made, and the wine flowed as it was an enchanting evening. Denise sat next to Lindsey giving the men a chance to talk. The close proximity made the southern belle nervous as she inhaled the aroma of the black goddess’ perfume. Lindsey suddenly became aware of the moistness that still haunted her since not climaxing with her husband Joe only an hour ago. The heat that Denise was giving off could have melted an iceberg.

Lindsey could not help but notice how stunningly beautiful the 28 year old black dominatrix was. She had positioned her body to display her impressive cleavage, but solely for the belle. However, it was her smoldering brown eyes that were hypnotizing the heterosexual white woman.

“I was so looking forward to time with you, little lamb. I have been telling Darius that you and I need to get to know each other more intimately...” Denise gushed.

Lindsey suddenly felt a long slender hand on her thigh.

“Umm, yes Mrs. Johnson you’re so sweet, and what a lovely dress, darlin’.” Lindsey cringed as she felt the hand slip under her dress!

Lindsey’s eyes welled with tears as she looked up into the face of her predator. She looked into the ebony’s sultry eyes as well as her widening smile; the submissive white woman knowing she was the prey and the huntress was closing in.

Across the table Joe and Darius were oblivious to the obscene events taking place, but Katie discreetly kept a close eye on the beautiful women attempting to read their body language. Denise looked confident and aggressive. Conversely, her friend looked timid, but possibly aroused.

The black goddess had moved her right hand up under the belle’s dress, going higher and higher until she came in contact with her French cut panties. Scratching her long nails along the gusset, Denise made Lindsey jump and tremble. The belle scanned the room, embarrassed that someone might take notice. Suddenly she felt Denise’s hand had slid to the side of her upper thigh and snuck a finger under the elastic of her panties.

“Ohh no! She is going to pull off my panties.” Lindsey screamed inside her head.

Suddenly Denise pulled back the elastic of her panties, snapped it lightly against her hip bone and cleared her throat.

“Umm hmmm!”

Denise’s message was loud and clear. Lindsey was to remove her panties, in the restaurant, in front of the diners and her husband’s staff.

The former debutante looked pleadingly to her tormenter, but saw no mercy in her eyes. The distressed woman glanced round the room and then slipped her hands under the table. She began to slip her hands under her skirt as commanded, but hesitated bringing her hands back to the table. The evil woman cleared her throat again only louder.

“UMM HMMM!”

Tears started to steam down the belle’s cheeks as she again went under her skirt and grabbed the sides of her panties. She lifted her hips off the seat and lowered her delicates and gracefully removed them. As they were sliding down her legs a group of girls caught the action on the street below. There were howls and one yelled.

“White trash!”

The shamed belle turned a shade of deep red as the ‘white trash’ comment caught the attention of other diners, causing them all to look towards the balcony.

The ebony predator burst out laughing, saying, “Well, I know they’re not talking about me...”

Lindsey delicately folded the panties, placing them down on her lap. Denise immediately tapped her long finger nail on the table, signaling to the southern belle to place them on the table.

“No, please.” Lindsey whispered submissively, shaking her head.

Denise again tapped her nail harder on the table, drawing the attention of Katie. The debased whimpering woman slowly placed them on table in front of Denise. The belle’s cloudy eyes caught the glimmer of her wedding ring as she set the panties on the table. Tears rolled down her cheeks, taking in the stark contrast between the white table cloth and the black lace panties. Lindsey was startled from her gaze by the suddenly present waitress.

“May I take your order Mrs. Johnson?”

Denise, looking directly at Lindsey instead of the server, said. “I’ll have the lamb, rare.”

Collette, the server, smirked as she noticed the lace panties. “And Mrs. Branson what can I get for you? Or, will you be moving straight to dessert?”

“I will have the scallops, and mind your place young lady!” Lindsey snapped as she glared at Collette.

“Oh, yes ma’am.” she snickered and moved on to take the rest of the table’s order.

“Oh Lindsey I really want for you to open up to me...” Denise chided, tapping on her knee.

The belle took the hint, spreading her legs for black woman. The goddess’ slender hand made its way up the inside of the belles thigh, pausing for just a moment, then running her nails through her labia.

“You’re such a warm woman, I am so glad we are getting aquatinted darlin’. You’re just a little magpie...” Denise cooed.

Lindsey, feeling flush, and her breathing increasing said. “Umm, thank you Mrs. Johnson. You’re so beautiful and sweet and kind...”

Denise was now focused on the belle’s clitoris, raking her long nails through it. Lindsey was in a free-fall, having been left unsatisfied by Joe and in desperate need of climax. She was putty in the hand of the she devil. Quickly bringing the belle to a rapidly growing orgasm, the ebony would suddenly stop short, pulling her hand back to her thigh. Lindsey groaned with mounting sexual frustration.

“Something wrong sweet pea...” The she devil queried as she sunk two fingers into the white wife. Lindsey was now gripping the ends of the table, sinking her nails into the table cloth.

“Please ... Please...” The belle whimpered quietly, not quite sure what she was asking her Mistress for, as Denise slid the fingers in and out with increasing speed.

Turning her head so only Lindsey could hear, Denise teased, “Oh my, your husband Joe must be hung, cuz you’re as loose as a magpie, sweet pea...” And with that the evil woman sunk a third finger into the belle.

“You did this to me. Ohhhhhhh. Please Mistress...”

The she devil knew precisely how to manipulate her fingers when it came to a woman. Working them deeper and deeper as Lindsey began breathing harder and harder. She began to moan as she felt the climax coming on and again Denise removed her hand from her vagina.

“Ohh, why ... Ohh God, please...” She begged with her eyes.

“Hahaha, you are such a little powder keg.” Denise whispered in her direction.

The prim and proper religious wife was now pleading.

“I have lived for this moment.” The Dominatrix smiled and turned her hand around and began to put entire hand into the belle.

The debased wife grabbed her wrist and actually helping to push her fist inside the former debutante.

Meanwhile on the other side of the table Katie could not believe the events that were taking place, and felt powerless to stop the defiling of her best friend.

Lindsey’s mouth was hanging open, her breathing ragged as her hips were now rising up off the seat to meet the thrusts of the black woman’s fist. The belle had surrendered and was under complete control of her Mistress. Lindsey now turned her head, staring into Denise’s mesmerizing eyes, grabbing her napkin and holding it over her mouth as she began to moan into it. Squeezing her knees together, she was about to breach orgasm. Dropping the napkin, the belle stymied herself as she brought her hand up and raked her nails through Denise’s perfect cleavage. Her wedding ring looked striking against the dark skinned goddess. Looking deep into Denise’s eyes and started to moan into climax.

“Ohhhhhhhhh, my...”

And for the third time the she devil removed her fist.

“Why, Oh my God! I need to cum! Please Mistress...” she secretly implored.

Denise coldly wiped her juice filled hand off on the belle’s black lace panties dropping them in Lindsey’s lap as she whispered in her ear. “Go fuck yourself, white whore!”

The shamed belle gripping the panties, stood up and said, “Would you please excuse me.”

Denise laughed to herself as the southern belle began the walk of shame though the dining room toward the ladies room. Many patrons were staring, giggling and openly pointing as she passed.

Alone in the restroom, Lindsey slipped back into her panties and stood in front of the sink, bending down, splashing water on her face and sighing, wondering how she ever allowed herself to be taken in her husband’s restaurant by a black woman? Drying her face and placing her hands on the marble counter, she stared at herself in the mirror. The heat, the very need of a woman stared back at her.

“That’s my husband’s favorite position, but you know that very well, don’t you darlin’...”

Lindsey blushed as she realized that she was in the same position that Darius fucked her in the back of her minivan earlier in the day.

“Mistress please ... I should be getting back to my husband.”

Denise sexily sashayed to the belle, standing a bit offset behind her. The black goddess’ mesmerizing eyes melded with the belle’s eyes. Lindsey, looking in the mirror trying to avoid eye contact, allowed her gaze to drift down to the substantial dark skinned cleavage. Denise’s teardrop breasts were nearly exposed. Her mind wandered for a split second, imagining standing together with this women, completely naked, in this very mirror. Was this the old south meets the new south? Here was this tall very toned 28 year old woman, with dark black flawless skin, her beautiful perfect breasts intertwined with the mature 45 year old reddish blonde white alabaster skinned woman. Closing her eyes for a minute, she tried to push the image from her mind.

 
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