Lost in the Ghetto (closed for fulmineo)

[Helen46]

Damn, I thought, now I really am lost! It had been a long day. The meeting had gone on for much longer than I had anticipated and my host had insisted on taking me to the hotel bar for a drink when our business had eventually concluded. Of course I should have refused and then it would still have been bright when I set off, and the thick fog would not have descended. Visibility was poor and I crawled along the highway, trying desperately not to ram into the car in front of me. Then suddenly I found myself veering off to the right and taking an exit ramp. This was all I needed.

All my attempts to get back onto the motorway failed. I just couldn't see any signs with the darkness and fog, and the street lights were worse that useless. Within a short time I found myself in a maze of unfamiliar streets. " God damn it," I muttered under my breath. I felt doubly stupid as my twenty-two-year-old son had offered to install the Sat Nav as I left home that morning, but I told him I knew the route and it was unnecessary. Now I was kicking myself for my stupidity. I felt awkward around technology and avoided using it, unless one of my children was there to provide back-up or I could devolve responsibly to one of my office subordinates. Nobody would believe that the first female CEO of the legal firm that I ran was not computer literate, but my role was to make hard decisions and lead, not get bogged down in gadgetry. Perhaps it was a generational thing. I was in my late forties and switching on my laptop was about all that I could manage on my own.

I looked at the houses as I passed by. Many of them were derelict and had boarded-up windows. The rest were in a poor state of repair. How could people live like that? Where was their self-respect? I could see figures huddled at street corners, their faces indistinct. There was something extremely seedy about this neighbourhood and I needed to get back onto the freeway as quickly as possible. I had heard awful stories about carjackings and worse. This must be where the blacks and hispanics live, I thought to myself. One of our office juniors, a filing clerk, lived here, I think. Now what was her name? La Toya, LaShaunte, Lanay, Lanette? Who knows; it's not like I ever spoke to her.

Just then the car engine stuttered and ground to a halt. Nervously, I tried restarting it, but it refused to roar back into life. I formed my hands into tight fists and banged the steering wheel in frustration. My idiot husband had been told to get the car checked out weeks ago and clearly even this simplest of tasks was beyond him. In a rage I reached into my purse to retrieve my cell and call for a pickup truck. But I could not find it. Despairingly, I scrambled around in the innards of my bag and then it dawned on me: I had left my phone in the hotel conference room. I cursed my absent-mindedness.

What was I to do? I couldn't stay in the car all night; the temperature was beginning to drop and I did not even have an overcoat. There was no option; I had to seek help. One of these houses must have a phone. I had a lot of cash in my purse and could amply reward one of those people for their assistance. Summoning up all my courage, I cautiously walked up to the front door of the first house that I could find that was properly maintained - and there were few of these.

I knocked on the door tentatively; there appeared to be no bell. Slowly lights were turned on and the door opened. Looking down at me was an enormous black man, 6' 3" and at least 250 lbs, but all muscle. He seemed about the same age as my son Mike. Before I could say a word, he surveyed me up and down as if inspecting a piece of meat. A leering smile formed across his face and his eyes filled with astonishment. I guess it was not everyday that he encountered a white mature woman on his doorstep, formally dressed in a grey jacket, matching skirt, and white blouse, and wearing expensive jewellery.

"Excuse me young man", I heard myself saying, "I wonder if you could assist me. My car has broken down and I urgently require a pickup truck. I have money. I can pay you for your trouble."

 

[fulmineo]

Before I'd opened the front door, I was ready to curse out whoever the hell it was that had woken me up. To say that I was shocked when I saw some old, rich looking, white lady on my stoop at Eleven at night, was to be saying the truth. It wasn't something that really happened, it was like seeing a unicorn. I had to pull myself together so I could hear what she was saying.

"Pay me?" I asked, thoroughly confused. Everyone on this block knew who I was and how much money I had. Not to mention how much I had. I guess this lady wasn't in the loop. "Lady, I don't need your money. But you can use the phone."

As I speak, I step aside gesturing for her to go in ahead of me. After she entered, I closed the door and led the way into my home. We stepped into the living room, where I had a few of my women counting up the day's profits, completely naked and with a wide range of weapons lying about.

"Excuse the mess, but we just needed to get the count done tonight." I explain, thinking nothing of the fact that there were naked women in my house counting my money. As I'm speaking however, I check her out. A bit old, but her tits were still impressive and she had more than a few curves still on her. I unconsciously lick my lips.

"You can take the wireless house phone upstairs and into my room if you'd like some privacy. But I'm going to need you to hand over your license. I want to know who you are, for obvious reasons." I state with my hand held out.

 

[Helen46]

He seemed offended that I had offered him money. Perhaps that was an unwise move. I had just assumed that people in this rundown neighbourhood could use a little extra cash. There was something menacing about this huge athletic-looking black man, but he seemed respectful towards me, and not as coarse in his manners as I had expected. In any case I frantically needed to make that call and he appeared to be obliging in that regard.

I thanked him for his kindness and stepped inside the doorway. However, when I heard him activate a series of heavy locks on the door, I flinched and began to think that perhaps I had made a mistake. But how else was I going to get access to the phone without stepping inside his home? Maybe he was just concerned with security - hence all the locks.

When he beckoned me into what appeared to be the living room, my jaw dropped. There were three women seated on the sofa counting an enormous mound of cash heaped on a coffee table. I hastily looked around the room and saw weapons of various types lying on the floor and on a buffet. My initial reaction was to scream for help, but I hastily realised that this would have been useful. Rarely had I felt so uncomfortable. My embarrassment was compounded by the women's nudity. They were in their early twenties with svelte bodies and pert breasts; so unlike my own matronly forms. I tried not to stare, but I had never seen naked black women before.

The man was obviously amused by my uneasiness. I was rooted to the spot, not knowing what I should do next. It was suddenly as if I had found myself an active participant in some crime drama. But it's one thing to witness it on TV; another to be part of it. I may have known how to conduct myself in a boardroom, how to dominate others, how to show leadership - but in this environment, I was a novice and words escaped me. Thoughts raced through my mind. This man was clearly involved in crime, probably something to do with drugs to judge by the amount of the money and the guns. Is he really going to let me make my call and give this address to a pick-up company? I had a real sense of panic. How am I going to get out of this predicament?

And then I was aware of the guy's eyes on me again. I wished that I had worn something more demure and not the tight-fitting jacket and skirt, and the low-cut blouse. All my curves were accentuated. I was aware that I was getting on in years, and that I had put on a few pounds, but I knew that men were intimated by my sexy look and power-dressing.

I gratefully accepted his offer to take the phone to an upstairs room. However, my fear returned when he asked for my licence. Christ, how am I going to extract myself from this situation?

 

[fulmineo]

"Your license, lady." I growled. "Now." I stand there for a few seconds more, and she's still standing there like she was in a trance or some thing. I impatiently walk up to her and grab her expensive looking purse and rifled through it. A stack of cash, for emergencies I'd assume, some credit cards and her wallet. I drop the purse on the floor and pop the wallet open.

"Let's see what we have here. A few more credit cards, must be nice to be white huh?" Keith asked sarcastically. "Get all the credit you need." After looking through her wallet for a few more seconds, he finally unearthed her license.

"With this, I now know where you live. If my place gets busted anytime soon, i'll have your address. Oh and Helen?" I ask, pausing before I continue to make sure I have her full attention. "I'm going to need you to strip down to your underwear. Just to make sure you're not wired."

 

[Helen46]

Without warning, his attitude had become more intimidating. I watched as he ransacked my purse, sneering about the number of credit cards. Okay, so I've got money, is that a crime? It's not like I'm a drug dealer! If I was not so terrified, I might even have managed a faint smile. Instead I watched silently trying to work out what my next move should be.

When he suggested that I undress, I almost lost consciousness. "What? Look here, young man, I'm a respectable married woman. I'm telling the truth. My car broke down. I just want to get help and get out of here. Do you really think that someone in my position would want to spend time in a place like this?" I said, instantly adopting the authoritative tone that I reserved for subordinates who dared to question me. However, I could see from his expression that this last sentence was too high-handed and a step too far.

"Look", I cooed, using my softer, more conciliatory tone, "I didn't mean that last thing. You have a lovely home (I lied). I was want to get back to my family. You know who I am and my address. I'm not trying to deceive you. You can talk to the towing company yourself. I don't even know where we are". I looked up at him, fluttering my eyelashes, and pleading with him.

 

[fulmineo]

The new, contempt filled, tone did nothing to assuage my anger. As a matter of fact, it pissed me the hell off. I close the gap between us and grab her arm roughly. "Look bitch! Do you see all of this money?" I half screamed and half asked. "This is what I made....today! This is not my 'home' This is where I lay my head when I'm working."

The poor lady looked terrified but she'd deserved it. "I'll call the pickup service, but only after you've stripped. I can't take the chance of you being a cop. I mean a rich white lady happens to knock on my door in this neighborhood? What are the odds of that?"

As I speak, I get in the woman's face. "You have two choices. Either you strip down to your underwear, or I put you back out on the street where you'll be raped and left for dead in minutes. It's your choice." I snarl at her. My eyes never leave hers, and I stand there waiting, trying to guess what she'd do now.

 

[Helen46]

He held my gaze like no one half my age had never done before. His expression and the anger in his voice indicated that he was not prepared to accept any compromise. He looked at me with defiance and contempt in his eyes. I was left with no choice.

"Okay. I've never had any contact with the police. But if there is no other way to convince you, then I will reluctantly do as you ask," I eventually conceded. Slowly, and never breaking his stare - I did not want him to think he was in charge - I took off my jacket and then unbuttoned my blouse. Fortunately, I was wearing some of my better lingerie and was not ashamed of it. My black lace bra came into view, barely supporting my massive 36DD breasts. Although they had begun to sag a little lately, I knew that they were still captivating to men from all the glances that I got. Next leaning over I unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the ground. The high-cut panties, also black and made from delicate lace, caressed my shapely ass. Yes, my hips were wide and my thighs flabby, but my husband appreciated my curvaceous body and liked that everything was in proportion.

I was used to being semi-dressed in public from attending the gym, although I had not been in some months and was beginning to accept that I would never lose those additional pounds I had gained. But this was different. I was in a strange house with a ruthless black man who seemed intent on causing me maximum discomfort - not to mention the three naked girls who kept looking in my direction and giggling. Staring down I noticed some pubic hairs peering over the band of my panties and quietly wished that I had trimmed after my bath last night. "Satisfied?" I ask him, challengingly.

 

[fulmineo]

I broke eye contact with the lady just long enough to gaze at her naked body. She was actually quite impressive under her clothes. It was her with clothes on that was annoying. I took my time surveying her entire body. Checking that there were no wires on her or in her clothing. I stepped behind and her and ran my hand over her butt and under her bra, just being thorough. I grin slightly as she begins to protest at the physical contact.

"Listen lady, this is all part of the job. I'm done now though so I'll call the service and you will stay here with my employees." I explain to her.

Without waiting for a reply, I turn around and go get my wireless house phone. When I find it, I call a couple of the local towing services to try and get them over here. However none of them will come to my address at this time of night. I turn back around, phone in hand ready to deliver the bad news.

 

[Helen46]

I shivered when he touched me. He grinned that icy smirk and said that it was nothing personal; he was just being cautious. But was it really necessary to paw my butt in that way or to run a finger under my bra? How small could these wires be? When his hand glided across one nipple, the chunky nub became instantly hard and pressed painfully against the lace cup. No one but my husband had laid hands on me that intimately in the last two decades. It was both thrilling and revolting.

However, I was reassured when he began to phone a local towing service. It was only a question of time before this nightmare was over and I was free to go. I began to search around for my discarded clothing.

 

[fulmineo]

When I enter the room, I see you gathering up your clothes. You were so optimistic, I almost felt bad for you. Almost. I give you a few seconds, and then I interrupt.

"What do you think you're doing?" I ask calmly, for now. "I did not give you permission to get dressed!" I walk over to her and Snatch the clothing from her. "Besides, the local tow service companies around here are refusing to come to this neighborhood at this time of night, so you're stuck here until morning. Make yourself comfortable."

After hearing my words, she was ready to protest. I could see it in how she gathered her breath and her expression changed to that of a stern school teacher. I quickly and matter of factly stop her in her tracks.

"I don't want to hear it!" I shout. "It is not my fault you stupidly came to this neighborhood with a poorly maintained car. Now you have to deal with the consequences. Besides, I'm not done admiring that body of yours."

My eyes rake over her body again. She might even be more attractive now that she was angry. She was saying something, but I was too interested in those massive tits to pay much attention. I get close again and grab her breast with one hand and wrap my other arm around her waist.

"You have a great rack." I whisper as the hand on her breast begins to caress the pale flesh gently. "Does your husband ever fuck them?" I ask as my arm around her waist slides further south and I grip her ass nice and firmly.

 

[Helen46]

I was stunned. Not only was I not getting out of this criminal house this evening as i had expected, but this ignorant young man was even preventing me from putting my clothes back on. How dare he! My astonishment turned to anger when he spoke about not having given me "permission" to get dressed. What insolence. I was all in favour of supporting minorities, but I would not have considered this ill-bred negro for even the position of rest room attendant in my company.

Just when I was about to give him a piece of my mind, he started using entirely inappropriate language and devouring me with his eyes. I knew that I was still attractive and I did my best to accentuate my assets, but never had I been so publicly and outrageously admired. If I was not so infuriated by his impertinence, I would have felt a sense of pride.

And then his hands were all over me. He had dropped the pretence of looking for recording devices; now he was after something else. I gasped when he clutched one of my breasts. Although I was raging at him, it felt surprisingly good to have my boob manhandled. When he grabbed my buttocks, I shuddered. It had been years since an unfamiliar man had paid such attention to me.

However, when he asked about the intimate life of my husband and I, I saw red. "Let go of me, you black brute," I shouted at him.

 

[fulmineo]

The words "black brute" stunned me into stillness. I couldn't believe she'd be so stupid as to say that to me, here, in the situation she was in. Mistaking my stillness for acquiescence, she tried to shift out of my grip. That was not happening.

I tighten my hold on both her tits and her ass, squeezing her in what I'd imagine was a painful manner. I easily lifted her off of her feet, and push her up against the nearest wall. I did this all in rapid succession, giving her no time to think, no time to react.

"You must think you're still at home, in your living room ordering your servants around bitch!" I snarl at her. "You're here. In the hood. No car, no cellphone. No one knows where you are but me. Me and my women could have our way with you and dump you by the side of a road." I explain eerily calm.

I slide my hand down into your panties and slide my pointer and middle fingers into your cunt, my thick digits hooking into you. I start working your junk rapidly and roughly.

"Now repeat what you said to me!" I growl.

 

[Helen46]

As soon as I blurted out the words "black brute", I regretted them. His strength took my breath away. He lifted me bodily off the ground in one fell swoop and pushed me face forward against the wall. I could feel his immense weight pushing against me. At 190 lbs I'm hardly a lightweight myself, but he hoisted me as if I was a child. His physical dominance over me terrified me more than anything else. I was older, smarter, wealthier, and better educated, and yet none of this mattered; all of the odds were stacked in his favour. He had the power of life and death over me.

With surprising calmness, he spoke directly into my ear and explained my predicament, his hot breath sending shivers down my neck. He was in charge. Moreover he was right. No one knew I was here. The only evidence that I had lost my way and strayed into this despicable neighbourhood was the broken-down car outside. It could easily be disposed of and all evidence of my existence wiped away. When he mentioned that he and the women could have their "way" with me, my legs turned to jelly and he had to grip me more tightly. The threat of sexual aggression hung in the air like a bad smell, and strangely I liked it.

And then he reached around my waist and plunged his hand into my lace panties. Within seconds, he had roughly shoved three fingers inside me. I cried out at the sudden penetration of my most private of parts. Fortunately I was well lubricated and his digits moved easily within me. The danger and humiliation seemed to have turned me on more than I cared to admit. Deep down I was aware than I had a kinkier side but I never had an opportunity to explore it before. My husband was strictly a once-a-week missionary-position kind of guy. Involuntarily my hips were bucking against his hand. His other hand had raised one of my bra cups and was harshly twirling one of my swollen nipples. I looked down into my outstretched panties and the combination of his darting black fingers, my pale skin, and the matted wet public hairs seemed so vulgar and erotic. Soft moans uttered from my mouth and I collapsed against the wall.

Looking to my right I could see that the three black girls were no longer sniggering. Two of them were embracing and kissing feverishly; the other was caressing one large breast and looking directly at us.

Even though I was caught up in the moment, I felt that I should offer the young man some sort of apology for my poorly chosen words. "Please. I'm sorry. I did not mean any disrespect....Sir," I said with a meekness that I had never heard in my voice before.

 

[fulmineo]

"Please. I'm sorry. I did not mean any disrespect....Sir," The woman said in apology. I grin at her words and her tone signified her willingness to submit to the situation and to me. My fingers in her cunt working rapidly, the sound of them plunging in and out making an audible sound, caused by her wetness.

"And even after I'd offered you hospitality." I say in an offended tone. The hand working her breast squeezed the nipple, hard, and my manhood started to harden when I heard her gasp. Whether or not it was from pain or pleasure, was unknown. It was probably both.

"I knew what you needed the moment I opened the door for you. A good hard fucking." I whispered in her ear. "And WE are going to give it to you. Multiple times." I reveal.

I look over to Rhonda and she smiles at me as she massaged her breast and gets up. "Can we take her on the floor sir?" She asks.

"Of course. This slut would let herself get fucked anywhere right now." I say.

I extricate my fingers from her sopping wet cunt and I let her fall to the floor. Rhonda walks over to join us. "May I place my titty in her mouth sir?" Rhonda asked.

"Please do." I say as I stroke my cock." As I watch, Rhonda places her titty in our new plaything's mouth. Our toy was seated on the floor back to the wall with Rhonda in front of her. I came up behind Rhonda and entered Rhonda's pussy.

"I'm going to fuck Rhonda until she's ready to cum. Then I'll come inside her and you will suck my cum out of her until she cums in your face. Do you understand?"

 

[Helen46]

I had never felt more humiliated or aroused. The enormous brutish black man spoke to me as if I was some sort of plaything or servant, telling me what he was going to do to me, like I had no say in the matter. He was using profanities such as "fucking", "bitch" and "cum" as if they were part of everyday conversation. Maybe they were where he came from, but not in my world.

But the truth was that I liked it. I liked being spoken to like this, directly and without pretence. It was invigorating to let someone else be in charge, to be told what to do. I was tired of being the one who made all the decisions, who had all the responsibility; it was such a release to cede that control to someone else. Also the age gap between us - hell, he was the same age as my son! - his towering build, and his blackness added to the attraction that I felt for him, and the taboo nature of the situation that I found myself in.

And now it seemed that the girl he called Rhonda was going to be part of my defilement. I looked up at her as I sat on the floor, supporting my back against the wall. She was the same age as he, and tall and lean. Her skin was perhaps a lighter tone to his. In almost every way she was the exact opposite in body type to me: while she was narrow hipped and had a flat stomach, I was broad and my belly was distended from multiple childbirths and a series of embarrassing folds gathered there; her buttocks were tight and firm, almost like a guy's, while my ass cheeks were wide, fleshy globes; and unlike the mass of wispy curls that formed a v-shape at my crotch, she was shaved, making the wrinkly labia more pronounced. The one thing that we had in common was our tits. Hers were equally as large as mine - which seemed somewhat incongruous on her slim frame - and she had dark chocolate-coloured, saucer-sized areolae.

I may have been faithful to my wimpish husband for most of our marriage, but I did play around with girls. No one but my closest friends knew about this. I picked up women in hotel bars, in lesbian clubs, and I even ordered them from escort agencies when I did not have the time to go on the prowl. It was my secret life; I needed it to deal with all the stress that came with my job. I first discovered that I was bisexual in college and have been sleeping with women ever since. For some strange reason I did not regard it as cheating. Go figure. So when this young black man talked about "taking" me with Rhonda, I was not as intimidated as he thought.

When he unzipped his trousers, I caught my breath. I had never seen a black penis before. Yes, I had heard whispers about the prodigious size of the African American apparatus, but I was never sure if this was an urban myth or whether there was any truth in the rumours. Certainly none of my white friends were able to deny or corroborate; the idea of having sex with a black man was repulsive to them - or at least that is what they told me. When he turned around and faced me, I almost squealed. Christ! I had never seen anything like it before. It was like a long blackened steel pipe. Although I was useless at measurements, I imagined it to be at least 16 ins in length and incredibly thick. Is that even possible? It stood rigid at a 45 degree angle from his body, the veins emphatic, and the huge purplish head glistening. I had to stop myself from drooling. I was not a size queen, but I would gladly make an exception for him.

When he announced that he was going to fuck the black girl first, I felt disappointed. She knelt between my outstretched legs, clasping her mouth to my left breast and stuffing her hand inside my panties. I began to pant and placed my hands on her narrow shoulders. Having removed his trousers, her muscle-bound boss knelt behind her and entered her in one swift movement. She cried out and bit down on my nipple. The pain was excruciating and I almost blacked out. When I recovered, I watched transfixed as he pounded into her like a wild, crazed animal.

All the time, he gazed directly into my eyes, and mouthed "you're next, bitch."

 

[fulmineo]

I stared intently into the woman's eyes as I plowed Rhonda. I mouthed to her my intentions for after I was through with Rhonda. I let her know that she was on deck after, and I was sure that my cock was up for the task.

Rhonda was accustomed to my size and girth, but still within seconds of me beginning the process of destroying her cunt, she forgot all about Helen and her breasts, closing her eyes to completely savor the feeling of a cock penetrating her over and over again. To remind her of her role, I slap her ass roughly, knocking her out of her reverie. She looks back at me and looks back to you and begins to rectify her mistake.

Rhonda kisses the woman full on the lips, taking over her mouth and invading every crevice with her tongue. Her hands wandering over our new toy's body. Twisting her nipples cruelly, breaking off from their kiss to lick the toy's tortured nipples at the same time, her free hand wrapped around Helen's throat, squeezing slightly.

I watched Rhonda take this woman how she wanted to as I fucked her. I felt my orgasm build to new heights, and my cock began to twitch as it spurted and shot a load deep into Rhonda.

I pump into her a few more times and then withdraw. " Rhonda, lean back and let it get a taste of your cum filled pussy."