Black Girl/woman-white Guy ?????

DRS_EROS

Literotica Guru
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Feb 24, 2010
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You hear of many stories on Lit and elsewhere, about white girls/women and black men. What's wrong with the other way around. The story is of course, still interracial and can be just as interesting with just as good a storyline and just as much material to choose from.
 
I'm on it!

Working on one now Doc, it's called "Whore me up white boy" about a white southern biker who gives a northern black co-ed a bit of backwoods education atop a red plaid blanket, next to a crackling fire and beneath the Georgia sky. It's a raunchy three hole journey with several whistle stops along the way..........

Problem is it could be a while, I currently have a dozen pieces in process.......
 
There are a number of WM/BF stories on the site, some of which are very well written. They lag in number and popularity behind the BM/WF stories, which is consistent with porn in general. I would say that in terms of real relationships and encounters, BM/WF is far more prevalent than WM/BF. It makes sense that stories would be fewer in number. It could be decades before that trend is reversed.
 
The problem is there isn't really anything "special" about black females or white males. There is no myth about white males and the only myths about black women is that they are all bitches who act out. Kinda hard to base a story around. The black male has the legendary eight foot cock and the white woman, especially the blue blond is the highest prize a man can obtain for himself. That's why those stories get a fuck ton of readers.
 
Working on one now Doc, it's called "Whore me up white boy" about a white southern biker who gives a northern black co-ed a bit of backwoods education atop a red plaid blanket, next to a crackling fire and beneath the Georgia sky. It's a raunchy three hole journey with several whistle stops along the way..........

Problem is it could be a while, I currently have a dozen pieces in process.......

I hope you change the title before you're done.
 
Working on one now Doc, it's called "Whore me up white boy" about a white southern biker who gives a northern black co-ed a bit of backwoods education atop a red plaid blanket, next to a crackling fire and beneath the Georgia sky. It's a raunchy three hole journey with several whistle stops along the way..........

Problem is it could be a while, I currently have a dozen pieces in process.......
Judging from the title, and your description, it doesn't sound like it will be worth reading.
 
There are a number of WM/BF stories on the site, some of which are very well written. They lag in number and popularity behind the BM/WF stories, which is consistent with porn in general. I would say that in terms of real relationships and encounters, BM/WF is far more prevalent than WM/BF. It makes sense that stories would be fewer in number. It could be decades before that trend is reversed.
I will have to look for the stories. I have watched or bought a good deal of porn and whiloe I agree with the numbers thing, I do see many more black girls and white men in porn these days. That isn't a description of what I was getting at though. Porn is not a good example of people wriitng good erotic stories about the subject. I do not think we are talking decades here. I see here and other sites more and more black women becoming attracted to and looking for relationships with white men . I know I have noticed far more black women hitting on me in the last 5 years or so.
 
Ahhh, struck a nerve.........

Judging a story merely by it's title is almost as silly as saying that there isn't anything "special" about a black female and white male. I disagree.......... It also seems that after viewing some of the interacial BM/WF story titles that already exist here on lit, that perhaps there might even be a bit of hypocrisy about.......... First let me say that it is up to the author to make a story special through the use of the story line, the characters and all the other selective tangibles. As far as whether you choose to read it or not, that would be your decision. I write to please one person; myself. Acceptance is for those who are not strong enough to be individuals. I posted merely to be a part of what I thought was a reasonably open minded community of creative individuals.

Eros, it isn't likely that you could read anything atop that high horse you are on anyway.
 
Generally, the title is an indicator of things to come, and based on that, I would have passed on that story regardless of the WM/BF theme. I would have assumed that a black woman was going to be mistreated, i.e. pimped out, etc. It may have been the wrong assumption, but from a title that doesn't match up with the actual storyline, its not that difficult.
 
Assumptions..........

Hmmmmm, Monazwx there is some merit in what you say. But, we all know what happens when we assume don't we......... By using the word "generally" you are stereotyping my work based solely on it's title. That hardly seems fare. Some of the best literary works in history (subjective to taste), have rather obscure titles. In the interest of putting our differences of opinion aside, I will "assume" that your life on the island is simply much different than the one I lead here on the mainland and I will leave it at that. I wish you the best.................
 
By using the word "generally" you are stereotyping my work based solely on it's title. That hardly seems fare. Some of the best literary works in history (subjective to taste), have rather obscure titles.

Yes indeed. Who can forget Shakespeare's "Goneril's Gone Wild", or Thomas Hardy's "Tits Out For The D'Urbervilles"? ;-)

Like it or not, people are going to judge your story by the title, because nobody has time to read every story here. (Except Laurel, I guess.)

As for black female/white male stories: I'd assume SamuelX has written at least a handful. I've
 
Your title is the first way that you catch someone's eye. If you want to get maximum readership you have to assume not only that people are going to judge your story (as if they start reading in the first place) primarily on two things, the title and that little blurb they call a discriptor. It helps if you've gotten big enough to have some kind of following but in today's lit (I've been here almost since the beginning, I remember a time when you could stay on the front page for up to a week) Lit stories come very rapidly, once your off the front page don't count on any new readers showing up.
 
I hope you change the title before you're done.

Don't let 'em bully you, Uhl. I like your title, and your description. And if you ever need a soundtrack, I hope you'll consider "Play that funky music, white boy!"
 
Judging a story merely by it's title is almost as silly as saying that there isn't anything "special" about a black female and white male. I disagree.......... It also seems that after viewing some of the interacial BM/WF story titles that already exist here on lit, that perhaps there might even be a bit of hypocrisy about.......... First let me say that it is up to the author to make a story special through the use of the story line, the characters and all the other selective tangibles. As far as whether you choose to read it or not, that would be your decision. I write to please one person; myself. Acceptance is for those who are not strong enough to be individuals. I posted merely to be a part of what I thought was a reasonably open minded community of creative individuals.

Eros, it isn't likely that you could read anything atop that high horse you are on anyway.

A reader scanning story listings finds five pieces of information: the title of the story, the tag line describing the story, the author's name, the category, and a score. There is nothing you can do about the score, and your name is your name unless you use alts. You have some control over the category, but that is not absolute. The two things you can control are the title and the tag line. In my experience, when I have put thought into both and filed the story in the proper category, the number of views is highest. When I have been lazy and just used the first string of words that popped into my head, my stories were often overlooked. The title does not determine the quality of the story, but it can drive readers to or away from the story. It makes sense to use this tool to your advantage.
 
Thank You......

I want to thank everyone for their input and I'd like to thank carnevil9 for the support. I don't feel bullied and I don't intend to change anything about the title or the story. If people read it that's fine, if they choose not to read it based on the title, that's fine also. I don't need to point out, but I will, that while others were starting this thread I was already working on this story. We must all remember that what is trash to one is erotica to another and vice versa. Thank God for different tastes............. If my titles or my stories offend anyone they are probably spending their time on the wrong website anyway.
 
The problem is there isn't really anything "special" about black females or white males. There is no myth about white males and the only myths about black women is that they are all bitches who act out. Kinda hard to base a story around. The black male has the legendary eight foot cock and the white woman, especially the blue blond is the highest prize a man can obtain for himself. That's why those stories get a fuck ton of readers.

This spoken from someone who is not a white man who loves black women, of course - as a person who fits that category, I can tell you that, to a man like me, black women are heavenly. And yes, some are bitchy, but that's across all races, and there's nothing sexier than a classy black woman.

Black women don't need a myth; they have curves...or well, the women I write about do, anyway. They're not for everyone - that's fine with me. But if you read one of my stories, you may begin to understand why guys like me love them.
 
amazed

I'm new here and a black woman married to a white man. I found this thread and went to see what black woman/white man stories there were. I'm kind of disappointed and amazed that they are very stereotypical. None so far written from the woman's perspective. I guess I'll have to change that! My problem is, how do I let readers know the woman is black without resorting to the typical "inner city" history or calling a white man "honky" (that was in one of the stories!)? I feel like readers will be disappointed if they start off thinking the main character is white.
 
Anyone else psyched for "Django Unchained"?

I think it's supposed to have some hot BWWM scenes.
 
Got a couple ideas

Just finishing up a couple of stories and I have written a couple lesbian black-white stories...so here r my thoughts:
1. a black college cheerleader is furious tht her white friend is treated so badly by her southern white football player boyfriend she decides to confront him and....

2. A black lawyer is defending/prosecuting a white southern man and gets visited by some of his friends

3. A black wife who just moved to the south for a job is taken by an older or younger neighbor

I am already brainstorming idea one...

Let me know what u think...

Jasmine
 
This is something I wish we would see a lot more of. I've got a couple ideas thought up about this, but wonder if there's interest. I bet there is.
 
Well, you could backdate it to the pre-civil rights movement and place the woman in a subordinate position and capture that whole dynamic.
 
There are plenty in the interracial section if you...you know...actually take the time to look.

Not everyone has the patience for perusal, I suppose.

Pepperpace is an excellent writer of interracial erotica--in my opinion, she's the best on the site. Unfortunately, she's so good that many of her stories have been taken down because they're now for sale. *sighs*
 
Here's an advance preview of a story I've written....

You hear of many stories on Lit and elsewhere, about white girls/women and black men. What's wrong with the other way around. The story is of course, still interracial and can be just as interesting with just as good a storyline and just as much material to choose from.

It's called Christmas Eve, and it's "pending" posting any day. Enjoy!

***********************
Merry Christmas Eve.



I toasted myself by the roaring fire as I hoisted my glass of merlot in a solo tribute to holiday cheer.



I glanced at the clock on the mantle. 6:19 PM. My two-year-old black lab, Colby, nestled himself further into my lap, forgetting as always that he weighed ninety-nine pounds and was far from a cuddle dog.



My teenage son was at his mom's house in Virginia for the next week, and it was just me and Colby until New Year's Day.



This is precisely why adult dating sites were invented, for times like these.



I clicked on the laptop and began to click on the menu choices. Let's see...ages 45 to 54, within a twenty-five mile radius of my zip code. Oh, and only those profiles that are currently online, of course. That was my favorite feature of this particular web site. You could see which curious women were simultaneously online with you.



And on Christmas Eve, let's face it, the chances were fairly good that those peeking back at me were similarly alone and, if the fates allow, horny.



I was on my third page of profiles when the first instant message came across the screen. That didn't take long, I mused, glancing at my watch. Less than ten minutes for the first communication. This was the best $39.99 per month I ever invested, I thought to myself for the umpteenth time.



The profile name, which shall remain anonymous for purposes of this saga, was enticing enough in and of itself itself. I recognized it from one of the profiles I had just perused. A light-skinned, green-eyed African-American nurse from Norristown whose prose said something about knowing just how to prescribe treatments. She certainly had the brick house body to back up that pseudo-medical pronouncement, especially a set of tits that she wasn't shy to emphasize on her photos.



I confess to having closely scrutinized her assets on my initial browsing, but declined to say hello under the premise that half of the brothers in Montgomery County had probably sniffed after this mocha MILF. Besides, I had a time-tested theory, which albeit was a little short-sighted at times, that the best way of enhancing your chances for a "match" (i.e. 'spontaneous fuck') was letting the woman initiate the contact.



That was my second favorite feature of this gold mine of a mating site. You could instantly see who had viewed your own profile. It was simplistically genius cyber voyeurism, early twenty-first century style.



And so I read her IM, a happy holiday greeting if ever there was one.



"Merry Christmas Eve, handsome. I saw you peeking at me, naughty boy."



There IS a Santa Claus, I thought, as Colby nestled his nose under my arm, vying for my attention. I typed my reply.



"Guilty as charged, gorgeous. And we're practically neighbors, too. We should go caroling together. Or something." Her address was the next town down, no more than ten minutes away.



She got right to the heart of the matter in her next message. Anyone who tells you that race isn't a deal-breaking topic to most is either naive or lives in Iowa. Which is sort of redundant.



"And here I thought you passed me by because I'm black. If so, your loss, sugar."



I took the bait and decided to raise the ante. If you've read some of my other stories, you'd know that race wasn't an issue for me when it comes to good-lookin' women. As a wise man once said, "They're all pink in there somewhere." Not exactly classy, yet not inaccurate, either.



I hit the keyboard. "Wait. You're black!?!? I hadn't even gotten above those beautiful tits yet to notice. Wow, you're right, you ARE black! Even better!"



I held my breath as I waited for her response, hoping that my brazenness didn't scare her away already. If I learned one thing about these electronic back-and-forth banters, it's better to find out right away if you're dealing with a player.



She was a player.



"LOL! Handsome and witty. And you have good taste, too. My name is Evette, by the way. Friends call me Eve. Let's chat."



And so we did, carrying on a prolonged IM that escalated in flirtatiousness with every blip on the screen. Eve was an empty-nester, having two daughters. One was twenty-five and had just had Eve's first grandchild, and the other in college who was spending Christmas Eve at her boyfriend's family's house. So, Eve let it be known that she had no plans for this frigid holy night until around 10 AM the next morning, when her daughters would come to visit on Christmas morning.



That sounded like an invitation of sorts to me, as well as an opportunity. So, I asked. What the hell? That's what Internet sites were for on Christmas Eve, right?



"Well, Eve, since you're so close, why don't you come over and we can give each other a present or two?"



"Well, Johnnie, what did you have in mind? Do you have any stocking stuffers for me?"



"I think I can scrape up something that will fit just right, Eve. Depends what type of stockings you have. Do tell."



There was a delay that was longer than usual. Eve typed a lot faster than I did, so I was a bit apprehensive when I didn't get a reply for about two long minutes. Every other response came almost instantaneously.



"Sorry, I had to go look at the selection. Since 'tis the season, how about red fishnet with lacy garters?"



As if I wasn't hard enough already conversing with this sexy chocolate vixen, my dick took on the texture of an oversized candy cane. Just craving to be licked.



"That's a very festive color, Eve. And since 'tis this is also the season for giving, I think I'd place the mistletoe in all the right places. See, I have sort of an oral fetish, if you're into that. Waddya say? Coming over for a holiday party?"



Her reply sort of startled me, I admit. It sounded ominous for my chances of holiday pussy cheer tonight. Had I fucked it up again, unwittingly?



"Is that all you want, Johnnie? Just a one-night fuck and suck session? Is that what you're looking for?"



Again, Eve typed much faster than I did. Before I could reply, she added (thank goodness), "Because that sounds just about perfect. I'm not into anything beyond the morning, but I am incredibly horny tonight. Give me your address. I'm going to shower, accessorize appropriately, and I'll be there in an hour."



Colby barked when the doorbell rang at precisely eight o'clock, his canine instincts telling him that his cozy evening plan as a lapdog with daddy was a moot point. We had company, pup. Less than two hours from logging on, there was an order of steaming hot caramel pussy delivered right to the door.



(By the way, in the electronic 'dating' world, yes, sometimes "it" really does happen as easily as this. Not always mind you, not by any means. But if you don't mind being rejected many more times than not, well, you never know until you ask, thanks to the wonders of the web, a gift that must have been arranged through Santa's network. He IS connected, ya know.)



Eve was as advertised, a bit thicker than anticipated perhaps, but not heavy, not by a long shot. She was all woman, a mature hard-body, adorned in a candy-apple-red low-cut button down silk blouse that peered out between the open leather overcoat she was wearing and accentuated a pair of tits that looked like they were footballs smuggled in two of Santa's extra-large sacks.



Her light greenish brown eyes twinkled in the darkness, her dark curly hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and her smile was as bright as the Northern Lights. It was the smile of a woman who wasn't disappointed at the sight of the man greeting her in his doorway. The man with the appreciative bulge in his pocket. Me.



"Merry Christmas, baby," she said, adjusting the straps of her overnight bag that hung between her ample cleavage. "Are you going to be a wise man and invite me in, or should I just go look for room at another inn?"



I took her by the hand, closed the door behind us, and gently pinned her torso against the door, pulling the coat from her shoulders as I did so. Our lips locked in a gentle, soft kiss at first, exploring tentatively. Her full lips were soft and coated with almost a cinnamon-flavored lip gloss. I opened my eyes as our tongues danced to see the small glitter of sparkles on her sepia-hued cheeks, now flushed with desire as she pressed her firm, full tits into my chest as our kiss escalated in intensity.



Eve grabbed the back of my head with her hand as my one hand climbed up to her chest and began to softly touch the mound between her orbs. My other darted down to her waist, which I noticed for the first time was covered in a tight black mini skirt. I caressed her lower thigh below the skirt and felt the unmistakable texture of silky lace. Yes, those were fishnet stockings, all right.



I lifted her skirt so that it was inching up towards her navel and began to knead my hand along her bare buttocks. She groaned into my ear as I felt her hand release from my skull and lower down my own body, separating it from her own for just a few seconds, until she found her target.



She traced the outline of my cock over my pants and panted into my ear, "I had a feeling you'd be endowed, sugar. You're a confident bastard. And you can use that mouth, too. You're a great kisser. That tells me a lot."



She gave my balls a firm squeeze and squealed in delight. My own hand felt the snap on her garter on her inner left thigh, which was now curling around my own leg, effectively dry humping me.



I murmured into her mouth as my lips explored the skin of her long, brown neck, "I was hoping you weren't prejudiced against hung white boys, Eve." I placed a finger onto the warm, sopping honey pot of her pussy to discover there was no material covering the promised land.



She nibbled on my ear. "Hung is my favorite color in a man, baby. The only one that matters." She paused. "Well, that, and a good tongue, too. You seem to qualify for the combo."



"Mmmph," I moaned back into her mouth in consent. "No panties, my favorite color." I started to plunge another digit into her tropical rain forest when I felt an invited cold nose nuzzle between my hand and Eve's sizzling twat.



We both looked down at once at the unexpected intrusion to see Colby sniffing curiously with his snout fighting for room with my fingers up Eve's skirt. Colby instinctively knew the distinct and unique aroma of a female in heat, and he was now competing for a clear path to Eve's treat.



Eve wriggled out of the grasp of my hand and Colby's nose, extracting her self from the doorway while giggling. "Well, you didn't tell me you'd have a horny black male waiting for me, too." She patted Colby's head as he panted and drooled at me with a "Gotcha, Dad" kind of canine grin. He was no dummy, he wanted some amorous attention, too.



"No," I ordered sternly. "Cage. Go to your cage, Colby." He hesitated, but obeyed after a few seconds, his tail between his legs. He sauntered slowly into the living room and slunk into his open metal cage, where he could still have a view of the activities, but no longer as a participant.



"He'll have to be happy with that," I said to Eve as we watched him forlornly glare back at us. "Now, how about some wine? Merlot OK, sexy?"



I led Eve by the hand into the kitchen and poured the already open bottle of Clos Du Bois into two large goblets. Eve leaned against the counter top and turned her back to me, raising the hem of her skirt. She dipped a finger into the glass and brought it to her round backside.



She spread her stiletto-clad legs wide as I watched mesmerized, the folds of a glistening dark pink pussy opening up like a blossoming rose between her chocolate ass cheeks. She bent over the counter, which caused her skirt to ride further up her ass. She ran her manicured middle finger along her left labia, then dipped into the glass wine glass again, and repeated the motion with her other labia.



"Let's do a wine tasting, handsome," she said in her sultry, Tina Turner voice. Yes, that's who she reminded me of, now that I thought about it. She took both of her hands and pulled her full, round buttocks apart, exposing both her beautiful pink cunt and her dark brown puckered anus.



"You first." She tapped her gash expectantly with her fingertips. "Momma needs a good licking."



I needed no further encouragement to savor this holiday nectar, and as the song goes, I fell to my knees. "O Holy Night, O night divine," I hummed on her gash as I lapped at her puffy flaps.



She was shaved, completely smooth. My mouth started to water as soon as I saw her lust-swollen lips. She was wet, and it could be seen glistening on the lips of her sex. I reached up to unzip her skirt and it fell willingly to the kitchen floor, leaving unfettered access to her steaming cunt.

I knelt down again, this time positioning my nose squarely between her ass cheeks. I leaned in close and inhaled her scent. Her aroma was mildly pungent, but fortunately wasn't too strong, yet it permeated my senses and caused me to become rock hard.

Using my hands this time, I spread her lips, revealing the pink insides. Her opening was slightly gaping, her muscles already clinching and releasing, over and over. I pushed my experienced and yet hungry tongue in and slowly licked from her opening up to her hard little clit.



Her reaction was quick and borderline violent. She thrashed on my face, the pleasure obviously intense as my tongue touched her clit. This time I licked from her clit back down to her opening and beyond to her puckered little ass hole. She must not have been expecting this, because she gasped and reached back and put her hand on my head.

I thought she was going to push me away, but she held my head in place, I started licking and teasing her ass hole and her opening. My fingers massaging her lips and my thumb circling her clit. Her breathing kept getting faster, and in between each gasp she kept repeating three words over and over.

"Oh Jesus, YES!" Christ was indeed born, it seemed.

I moved my free hand up and over her body, finally ending up on her right breast, as she had somehow removed her blouse without me even realizing it while I was enjoying my gooey chocolate cookie. She was adorned in a bright cherry bustier which was attached to the garters below and stopped just below her massive mounds on top. Of course, I was orally concentrating on her epicenter for the time being. There would be ample time for those yummy-looking tits in my immediate future.



Kneading her fleshy tit and pinching the puffy nipple. I moved my head up slightly and lock my lips over her sensitive clit my tongue flicking over it continuously. My fingers, not working her clit anymore, moved down and I pushed two fingers deep into her pussy. Her ass shot straight out, nearly bashing my face, and she groaned. "Fuck, YES, baby, eat it, eat my brown sugar, lover!"

This encouraged and motivated me further. I plunged my fingers in and out of her, getting deeper and faster with each thrust. A sheen of sweat formed on her skin, mingling with the wetness from her excited pussy. Her breathing was becoming ragged and hoarse.

"I'm so close, you're gonna make me cum!" she almost yelled.

Oh, I wasn't going to stop. Santa himself would not have coerced me to stop at that point. I wanted more than anything to make her cum for me. I could feel the walls of her pussy clinching as I fingered her. Her juices were flowing thicker, lubricating her opening for me. She tasted delicious, sweet almost, caramel pussy nectar mixed with coffee.


Eve's back arched and she let out a guttural scream, followed by those two always festive words: "I'M CUMMING!!!"

Her juices flowed down from her gaping slit and all over my mouth and chin, coating me in cum. I was in heaven, her stance now narrowing to brace herself, serving to clamp around my head and I was trapped between her thick luscious thighs as the orgasm I caused ripped through her body.

The orgasm took its time leaving, her body still slightly shuddering from its effect. She looked down at me, her face showing utter content. She reached down and pulled me up to her, drawing me into a kiss.

"My turn," she said, a big smile on her now-glowing face. "Let's find a more cozy setting. Did I see a fireplace in the living room?"


I followed her as she led the way, watching her big firm brown butt wiggle in front of me. What's that old saying? "I hate to watch you leave, but I love to watch you go."



And, you go, girl. I was determined to have me a piece of that chocolate ass real soon. But first, some preliminaries. She took me to the foot of the couch and knelt down herself. At least she had carpet for her knees rather than the tile flooring I endured.


Eve reached down and unbuckled my belt, extracting my cock from my boxers, unwrapping her present.

"Oh, fuck, what a lovely piece of white meat THIS is," she said, looking legitimately impressed. "Sit down and enjoy," she ordered, squirming between my legs.

Obediently I sat down on the couch. She leaned in for a kiss, licking her own juices from my still-coated lips, then slowly she kissed her way down my chest and stomach, raising my shirt at first and then pulling it over my shoulders.



When she got to the top of my jeans, she slid them down my legs and over my ankles, boxers with them. My dick sprang completely free, pointing at the ceiling. I hadn't been this hard in far too long. What a wonderful Christmas this was turning out to be.



My balls felt tight below my dick, there was quite a back-up of seed, and I knew that I had to hold on and not cum within the first few minutes. I wanted the sensation of her sucking me to last.

She took my dick tenderly in her palm and slowly stroked me from base to head, causing a drop of pre cum to squeeze its way out. She looked up at me and lowered her head while never breaking eye contact, gently licking it off. Her eyes never left mine as she did this. The feeling was a jolly one as her tongue slid over the head of my dick.

Without saying a word, Eve took my swollen dick in her mouth. This caused me to groan from deep within, it shuddered out of me. The feeling of her warm, talented mouth on me was indescribable. She took my eight inches of stiff, thick white dick as far as she could into her mouth and licked almost from the base of my shaft up to the head, then slowly swirled her tongue around the tip.

She started to suck in earnest now, her head bobbing up and down on my dick. I heard the angels singing, this was heaven. She let one hand roam over my body, while the other gently played with my balls. Never too firm, but gently rolling them around in her hand.

My breathing was coming faster and faster as the pleasure rose in me. I felt the tell tale signs of my impending orgasm start. Much as I tried to maintain self-restraint, there was no way to stop this orgasm, I was going to cum very soon, and there was no way to stop it. She was too good. Dame, this black girl could suck cock.

"Eve, baby, I'm gonna cum, I'm so close!" I gasped.

She didn't stop, she actually sped up. Her tongue was now moving all over my shaft as she moved her head up and down on me. She looked up at me and the sight of her, my dick in her mouth, was the final straw. I felt my balls tighten almost painfully, and my orgasm washed over me.



It was the most intense orgasm I had in years. It felt like I shot a gallon into her mouth. She was ready for it, never missing a beat. She sucked me deep just as I started spraying inside her mouth. And each time I sprayed a stream of cum, she swallowed it.

Finally my orgasm subsided, my body trying to relax. My breathing was still erratic and fast, but I was happy. She didn't stop sucking me after my orgasm. It almost hurt, but not quite. I could feel my dick start to soften, but her attention got it back to rock hard in less than a minute. A Christmas miracle.

I had always been like that when I was younger, I could get hard right after having an orgasm pretty quick. It would just take me a longer to cum the second time. But that was at least a decade ago, yet Eve had successfully discovered my fountain of youth, resuscitating me pretty much instantly.

With my dick somehow ready for live action again, she crawled up my body and kissed me. Some men might have been disgusted, since it was my cum I was tasting, yet I have no problem with it. I figure if women can taste themselves, well, why not reciprocate?



As we kissed and swapped our mutual cum, Eve reached down and took hold of my manhood, and guided me to the right spot, Ground Zero. With a sigh she lowered herself down onto me, my dick encased in velvet heat, prime African-American pussy. A true delicacy. This could easily become a holiday tradition.



"All this pussy licking and sucking your cock has been nice. But I really need you to fuck me with your big dick now," Eve announced. With a sigh as I entered her deepest regions, she added, "That IS the main reason I'm here, after all. To get properly fucked by a gorgeous white dick." She accentuated the "f" sound with an evil hiss to emphasize the desire.


I'm kind of used to easing myself into a woman slowly to allow her to adjust to my girth, but that wasn't necessary with Eve. She wasn't tight, not by a long shot. I had the distinct impression that Eve had enjoyed more than her fair share of big cocks stuffed into her vaginal stocking in her day. Her cunt was sopping and sloppy, yet her muscles knew how to milk a shaft expertly. A connoisseur of cock. My kinda woman.



As she rocked up and down on my erect South Pole, her insides massaged my dick in rhythm with her animated bounces. My testicles slapped against her rump with each descent, causing a cadence of sorts. Call it Jingle Ball Rock, if you will.

Eve straddled my body and lowered herself onto me as she reached behind her and held my tool firmly so that it wouldn't pop out. Not to worry, though. My hard cock slid easily into her channel and she emitted a small gasp as it gradually filled her entire hole and banged against her cervix.



Eve continued to rock back and forth on top of me as I held on to her curvy ass. I stroked her ass cheeks and molded her firm buttocks in my hands as she picked up the pace fucking herself on my throbbing shaft. My holiday gift started moaning as she fucked faster and faster. I sensed her pending orgasm and then she yelled out.

"I am going to explode again. Oh, hold me, please hold me tight," she screamed. I grabbed onto her plump buttocks like a man hanging onto a handrail in a rocking subway car, a passenger merely along on her rocky ride.

Eve collapsed on top of me, her body quivering from the intensity of her orgasm. I could feel her juices coating my cock as it remained buried in her cunt. It took a few minutes for her to regain her composure and she just lay on me and cooed while I sucked on her tits, slapping them onto my face like a pair of windshield wipers. Eventually she rolled off of me and lay on her back next to me.



It was time for me to fuck her in the ass, though. As she told me a short time before, it was 'my turn'.



So I had her kneel on all fours with her gorgeous ass in the air. She put her head on the cushions and turned to the side so that she could watch. I licked my fingers and then liberally spit on them to lather them appropriately. I then fingered her ass and pussy at the same time.

"I love the feel of your fingers in my ass and pussy together!" Eve exclaimed excitedly. "You know just how to prepare your meal." She wanted this as much as I did. Almost.

After several minutes of finger fucking her pussy and ass hole I couldn't wait any longer and I had to get my cock in her beautiful ass. I removed my fingers and lined up the head of my cock at her moist puckered ring and pressed forward slowly. My cock head strained to pop through and she let out a little groan as the pressure from my iron hard dick forced her little ring to open like a flower and suddenly my large mushroom head slipped past the ring and into her ass. Eve let out another impassioned groan as her rear passage stretched to accommodate my thick circumference.

"Oh, fuck, you are going to make me like this more than the regular way," she gasped and shivered as I filled her fully and withdrew my cock completely each time I had it buried into her sphincter, serving to turn her ass hole into a gaping chasm.

In time, as she adjusted, I felt her ass muscles tighten around me and I continued to slowly stroke in and out of her tight ass until all eight inches were tightly packed up her ass. Eve really began to moan and her whole body shook in anticipation of what she knew was coming. I began to slowly fuck her but soon picked up the pace as I penetrated her with long hard strokes that used the entire length of my thick rod.



Eve was going wild as she loved the feel of my cock as it pulled out and then came crashing back in as my big heavy balls bounced off her pussy. My black beauty was thrashing around uncontrollably, gasping and moaning with pleasure. When I reached underneath her to stroke her clit, she exploded again.



I continued to hammer her ass with long strokes then suddenly I felt that familiar tension in my balls and I knew I was close. I began to piston my raging cock harder into her searing ass in search for my release, which also increased the intensity of her orgasm. She was yelling and moaning, clawing and scratching at the cover of the couch, begging me to cum.

"Give it to me, give it to me, give me your cum, cum in my ass," she begged.

I felt powerful and dominant with my big white dick stuffed up the beautiful ass of a strong black woman who could not get enough of me. Eve lay submissively before me on all fours as I towered above her like some untamed animal with a strong sexual hold on her. I took firm hold of her hips and slammed once more full force into her ass. I did that three or four more times and then I let out a loud groan as I emptied my seed deep into her bowels. I couldn't believe how much cum I produced as my dick continued to hammer into her ass, milking every last drop, reminding me of the old Maxwell House coffee commercial.



When I was finished I pulled out of her ass as Eve collapsed on the couch utterly spent. I slumped down next to her still quivering body. I looked over at Eve's rear end and noticed my seed oozing from her asshole. It resembled a natural spring as cum just seemed to bubble up as she tried to relax her contracting anal muscles. I offered her a massage which she gladly accepted.



I had her lay face down and worked her back, legs and buttocks. Not so surprisingly, I soon massaged and fingered her ass again. She came yet again, perhaps more powerfully than all of the rest combined that night when I finger-fucked her ass for countless minutes. After the digital ass fucking, I rolled Eve over on her back and continued the massage this time working her tits, abs, legs and pubes. I finished her off with another thorough pussy eating which had her screaming my name and humping my face with her volcanic orgasm.

I moved her body around so I could lower a blanket that I had near the couch and then we both crawled under them. Eve kissed me and snuggled in close. She thanked me for a wonderful night of loving and then we both fell into a deep sleep. We would sleep for hours as the night of spontaneous incredible Christmas Eve sex exhausted us.



Christmas morning I woke up with Eve stroking my cock with a warm hand towel to clean me. She smiled at me when she saw I was awake and then she lowered her mouth to my cock and deep throated me as she had the evening before. I decided then to fuck Eve into submission that morning. I rolled her over and got on top of her and slipped my morning erection into her moist pussy. I started fucking her slowly and gradually picked up the pace as she moaned and grunted with primal desire.



I was determined to fuck her brains out. I could fuck for a long time without cumming that morning after the Christmas Eve festivities. As I pounded Eve's battered pussy she had a continuous string of orgasms. She was screaming and thrashing in ecstasy. Eve held me tight with her strong legs wrapped around my ass, dug her heels into my back and muffled her screams in my shoulder as I pounded her pussy. Finally she shook uncontrollably, screamed and collapsed, her body going limp on the bed.

"Please stop fucking me, no more please. I can't cum anymore please, I have to go," Eve pleaded.

I eased my still hard cock out of her cunt and I actually heard her pussy sucking as if it was gasping for air. I slid off the bed and went into the bathroom. When I returned to the living room Eve was in the same position that I had left her. I got back onto the couch and rolled her over on her stomach.

"Please, John, let my pussy rest," Eve begged.

"Glady. It's not your pussy I'm after, lover," I told her. She kind of giggled and groaned in a "Oh, no, not again" reluctant manner, but she was happily resigned to a final anal assault. Hey, it WAS Christmas.

Eve raised her ass slightly and I slipped a wet finger into her bung hole. She gasped at this newest intrusion initially but then relaxed and enjoyed the stimulation. I added a second finger and Eve gasped again, louder. As I worked my two fingers in her ass, I lifted Eve by her ample hips and she allowed me to lift her ass higher as she kept her head on the pillow on the couch. She knew I was going to take her ass again and she offered no protest.

I lined up my throbbing cock at the entrance to her ass and pushed it in until the head cleared her sphincter. Once again Eve squealed at the intrusion but she did not resist. I eased my cock into her ass inch by inch until it was completely buried in her anal channel. I started slowly as I had before and then picked up the pace. Watching Eve's brown ass impaled on my pale cock as I fucked her sent a chill through my body. My own orgasm, the first and only one of this Christmas Day, was building in my balls and I knew it would just be a matter of minutes before I ejaculated.

My body stiffened, my balls tightened and the first stream of cum entered Eve's asshole catching her by surprise. She hadn't expected me to ejaculate so quickly, it seemed. I pulled my cock from her ass as I continued shooting cum at her asshole. My semen bounced off her anus and her buttocks and then ran down over her pussy lips onto the upholstery of the couch.



I couldn't have gotten hard again with a crane tugging on my dick. Which was fine with Eve, who had to depart to get her grandkids' presnt under her tree.



As a true romantic, I made Eve my special holiday breakfast. A peanut butter and jelly bagel. (Hey, it was all I knew how to make. I can't be good in the sack AND the kitchen!)



She slipped back into her blouse and skirt and stilettos, which looked a little out-of-place as she stepped into the Christmas morning daylight. I'm sure the neighbors, if they were peering out of their windows, noticed my Christmas visitor's tattered and torn fishnets stockings as they rode up her leg while she eased into her front seat of her car, and then she pulled out of my driveway.



I slept until early afternoon, and then clicked back onto the Internet to re-examine her profile on the dating site where I had "found her" less than twenty-four hours before.



It was gone. "This profile has been removed by user", said the message. Since we had only IM'd together, I didn't have either her e-mail nor her phone number.



I've perused that same web site for a year now, and have fucked several other women on last-second electronic rendezvous, but Eve has never emerged again. It was the ultimate one-night stand. She was truly the ghost of Christmas present.



So, this year, as I reminisce on last year's wondrous event, I can think of only one holiday salutation.



Merry Christmas, Eve.
 
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