Chapter 9
Big Joe didn't stick his cock into Ginger right away.
He covered her slender white body with his husky black form, but kept his hips up a little. He placed his large hands against the sides of her face.
It terrified her to look up into that Negroid face. She'd always considered herself completely unprejudiced, and she had seemed to prove it with Jean. But to be in bed with a black man was different.
However, she didn't fight now. It seemed futile. Also, fascination vied with her fear again.
As the moments passed, the fascination grew and the fear receded. Joe was very gentle with her. His hands stroked her cheeks. He kissed her gently on the lips. He backed up a little, and his hands stroked down onto her chest. He rubbed her firm, small titties, causing the pointed hills to quiver. He twiddled her nipples deftly, and they swelled harder and higher. He turned his head and brought his warm, wet mouth down around one of the sensitive peaks.
He sucked her tit, and she gazed up into Jean's benevolently smiling face.
Jean's hand displaced Joe's at Ginger's other breast. She fondled the titty delicately while Joe tongued and sucked lightly at the other.
This was good! Ginger finally decided.
She began to give herself to the act as freely as the others did.
When Joe backed up farther and kissed downward along her body, Jean bent and kissed her lips. Jean's hands toyed with her titties. Joe kissed her belly button, flicking his tongue into it. He browsed lower.
Ginger's entire body ignited in passionate flames. She writhed and moaned. As Joe's mouth moved into her pussy fur, she bucked upward, causing his thick lips to skid down onto the soft, juicy lips of her cunt. He spread her cunt lips deftly with his mouth and inserted his tongue into her slit.
She shut her eyes tightly. Wild sounds escaped from her parted lips as she ground her cunt around Joe's delightful tongue-frigging.
It might have been Jean making luscious mouth-love to her between the legs, except that Jean was leaning over her chest, tonguing her mouth and rubbing her titties delightfully. Ginger's fire grew hotter and hotter. She moved more passionately. She sobbed.
Later, in thinking it over, she wasn't able to determine just what it was that had set her off so strongly-whether it was because Joe was a Negro, because he and Jean were working on her together, or because he took more time than most men with the oral and manual techniques. Perhaps it was the very bizarreness of the act.
Anyway, she did respond strongly, and that was what mattered.
As she approached a come, Joe detected her condition. At exactly the right moment, he raised his head and moved forward, atop her. Jean sidled closer to the head of the bed, but she kept kissing Ginger's lips and kept a hand on one breast.
Joe gripped his thick, black dong and pointed it at Ginger's dribbling slit. The puckered pinkness claimed the tip of his dark, swollen cockhead. He pushed, and the entire knob popped into Ginger's cunt.
She gasped.
Jean raised her face and smiled down. "Screw her nice, Joe," she said. "Make her love it."
"She's gonna love it just as much as I do," his deep voice rumbled.
Ginger's eyes and mouth were open wide as he sank his thick, rigid pecker inch-by-inch into her slippery hole.
Finally she was stuffed with him. He had possession of her to his hilt. His big balls rested against her asshole.
She felt him throbbing in there. Every once in a while, he would jerk a little. He hadn't started to stroke yet.
He was leaning on his elbows, holding her buttocks in his hands. His head was drawn a little to the side, allowing Jean to continue the game. She bent and kissed one side of Cinger's mouth. She fondled one of Ginger's springy tits while Joe's warm mouth covered the other.
He began to stroke, slowly and carefully. His huge cock slid out and in, gradually lengthening the strokes until his knob nearly escaped from her pussy on the backstrokes. Momentarily Ginger suffered a relapse. She didn't respond erotically to the stroking, any more than she responded with other men, except that she was more stuffed with Joe.
What a big, pricky animal he was!
Jean kept kissing her, tonguing the corner of her mouth. Now Jean's hand moved back and forth across both her titties, stimulating the sensitive tips of them until they felt as if they would explode.
And Joe kept stroking, stroking, stroking his mighty tool in her twat. His strong hands kneaded and rolled her buttocks, lifting her to his thrusts. His cock sank into her very deeply. She felt as if she were being split in two.
Gradually she resumed her rise toward a climax. She didn't know whether Joe's humping was mainly responsible or whether it was the way Jean kissed her and stroked her breasts. The important fact was that she was getting there. She was making it with a man ... and with a woman ... both at the same time ... both black.
Her preliminary spasms tipped Joe off, and he stroked harder, faster, really pumping her pussy for all he was worth. She lifted to his lunges and circled her slippery snatch around them.
Jean fluttered her tongue in Ginger's mouth, and the white woman responded with some tongue action of her own. Jean's fingers delighted a tingling nipple, tugging it upward, bending it, twirling it, and scratching it lightly with her fingernails.
"Oooooh! Oooh! Oh! God! OOH!"
Ginger came, bucking and spasming wildly. Joe jerked and spewed his thick, warm cream into her depths. Jean squeezed the other woman's titty. Ginger kept coming and coming. She wailed.
When the tumult on the bed finally quieted down, the three participants were aware of a small voice on the other side of the door asking, "Mommy, what's the matter?"
Jean cleared her throat and called, "Nothing, dear. Everything's all right. Now, you go out and play."
Ginger sat cross-legged, at the side of the bed, and watched while Joe satisfied his wife by mouth.
As he tongued Jean's dark, creamy cunt, he would lift his head slightly every once in a while and gaze at Ginger's open pussy. Then he would return to his wife's cunt with added gusto.
Ginger kept glancing at Joe's cock, which was aimed her way as he lay on one hip. Actually it wasn't aimed at all, at first. It just fell across his thigh, limp and a little gucky from their mutual juicy come. But after he had tongued Jean's pussy for a while and glanced several times at Ginger's crotch, that big rope-like pecker began to assume the characteristics of iron. Then it did point at Ginger.
She gazed at it, fascinated. It was so huge and so frigging dark! She remembered how effectively he had used it in her.
Jean got her gun off while Joe tongued her twat.
He raised his head. Now he was the one with the problem, while both women still glowed with satisfaction.
They glanced at each other, and he grinned at them both.
"Well, ladies?" he chuckled, and gripped his big prick, shaking it gently.
"Jack off, Joe," his wife suggested playfully. "Let us watch."
"Shhhhit!" he said, and chuckled again. "Wanta go again?" he asked Ginger. "Just you and me this time?"
"I don't know if I...." she began. "That is, I've never been quite as good with men."
"You were good last time. Now you're very open. It'll be slick as greased glass."
"Try, baby," Jean urged her. "I'll watch."
"Well...."
Ginger liked the idea of the other woman watching. And she was interested in finding out if she really could pop with this big black man alone.
"All right," she said finally.
Jean moved over, so that Ginger could spread herself in the center of the mattress.
Joe crouched between her up-tilted thighs. His cock stuck up stiffly. How virile he was! She'd heard that was true of blacks, but she'd never had an opportunity to test out the proposition before.
He dropped forward onto one arm. His body covered hers. He tilted his heavy cock down to her little pink chasm, which wasn't quite as little as it was before the three-part play began.
He slid his cock easily into her lubricated quim, sinking it all the way. He pushed himself up on both hands, his arms straight. He gazed down at her as he began to grind his cock in her cunt and stroke it out and in.
She gazed up at him. She started to move with him.
Jean watched interestedly.
It was good screwing, and good to watch. Joe's black rump rose and fell between Ginger's white thighs. His huge, dark hands pawed at her fair, reddish-tipped tits.
Jean moved around, after a while, so she could gaze between the legs of the lovers and observe her husband's thick shaft pump in and out between the grabby, slick, red lips of Ginger's pussy. Down and up the big piston went. In and out. Plunge-withdraw-plunge-grind-withdraw-plunge-withdraw-plunge-grind some more. Joe's balls wobbled as he ground his cock deeply in Ginger's cunt.
Jean stroked her own clitty while she watched them. She soon built herself up toward another come.
Ginger was rising toward her second orgasm of the day. But rising slowly. Now she was just with a man. A big man. A black man. But essentially just a man.
She had an impulse to behave as she did with Mark, Paul and the other men she'd balled: Pretend, move as if she was reaching her reward, and let it go at that. But somehow that didn't seem appropriate today with Joe. Anyway, she entertained a ray of hope that she might actually make it, even though Jean wasn't helping ... provided Joe lasted long enough. When she was with a man, she had to have one hell of a long, hard cunt-stabbing before she could make it.
Joe worked like an iron man. His prick pumped and pumped. Jean had her head against the mattress, watching as she diddled herself.
Joe squeezed both of Ginger's titties, thumbing her nipples. She liked that. His cock was giving her more action than Mark usually did, and she could feel every stroke intensely because of the organ's thickness. What a hunk of meat!
She became more and more excited. She gasped, panted, and her hips moved of their own accord.
"Oooh, yesss! Yes! Yes!" she heard herself say.
"Pump it, baby!" Joe growled, squeezing her titties harder as he screwed. "Move that little cunt! Go Go Blow your friggin' mind!"
She whined and whimpered. She pushed against him harder. Her brain began to float. She felt a tightness growing within her.
God! Oh, Jesus, she was getting there! If he would only keep on ...!
"Don't stop!" she begged. "Please don't stop! Screw me! SCREW meeee!"
He screwed her to beat hell. He gave her everything he had-drilling, grinding, pumping his heavy prick in her cunt.
"Oooooh!" she wailed. "Christ! Shit! SHIT! I'M COMINNNNG!"
She came like a freight train that had lost its brakes on a long downgrade. She roared into the orgasm, shaking and bumping. She bellowed. She kept shaking as Joe cursed and shot his hot semen into her.
Jean was coming, also-more quietly perhaps, but in a satisfactory way.
"Mommy?" a young voice outside the door called again.
"Yes, dear?" Jean asked a bit huskily.
"Do you hurt?" (He had thought Ginger's hollering was his mother's.)
"I'm all right, Todd. Go play."
"Yes, Mommy."
Little footsteps receded down the hall.
"Ooooh ... ooh ... ooh...." Ginger was panting.
Joe, braced on straight arms again, grinned down at her. He was breathing a bit heavily, but otherwise seemed perfectly at ease.
"So you don't make it so good with guys, hmm?" he asked.
"I thought I didn't," she said between gasps. "You're wonderful!"
He chuckled again and leaned down to kiss her.
"You mean, he moved out?" Candy asked desperately into the phone.
"That's right, ma'am," the man at the motel replied. "Did he leave a forwarding address?"
"No, ma'am."
"Shit!" she exclaimed.
"I beg your pardon, ma'am?" asked the motel clerk. "Oh, nothing!" She slammed up the receiver. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" she said to the empty room. She got up and began to pace the floor. Her buttocks wiggled rapidly in her snug pants.
Was Mark trying to lose her? She could hardly believe that. But why had he moved out of the motel? God, was he going back to Ginger?
No. Of course not. Not after the way she'd yelled at him; the names she'd called him.
He must have moved into an apartment. Damn him! What was he up to?
She strode to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee, thinking that might calm her nerves. Of course, it didn't. She was just finishing it, wondering what she was going to do next, when the telephone rang.
She nearly upset the cup as she rushed to the kitchen wall extension.
"Hello?"
Mark chuckled. "I was prepared to hang up if Paul answered."
"Oh, God! Mark! Where are you?"
"I rented an apartment. Got a paper and pencil? I'll give you the address."
"I'll remember it, don't worry." He gave it to her.
"I'm coming right over," she announced. "Where's Paul?"
"Out playing golf."
"But he may get home before you get back."
"I don't care," she said firmly. "He doesn't matter to me any more. Only you do."
"Now wait a minute," Mark said gently. "I love you, too, baby, but we don't want to do anything foolish."
"Don't talk now. Just stay there. I'll be right over." She threw a quick kiss into the telephone and hung up.
She took a speedy bath and dressed rapidly, donning only a pair of nylon pants under her shift. She quickly arranged her hair and raced from the apartment.
She must have broken several speed limits as she drove into town. She found Mark's apartment house easily; it was on a well-known street.
She parked too close to a fireplug but didn't care if she got a ticket.
People glanced at her in the sun-bathed patio of the apartment house, as she rounded the pool rapidly and climbed the stairs to the door with the numerals 21 on it. That was Mark's apartment.
She rapped.
He opened the door right away. He was holding a drink in his hand.
He grinned. "Hi, baby." He added, indicating his glass, "What would you like?"
"You!" she said, and began pulling down the zipper on her dress before he'd closed the door.
The dress dropped off, and he gazed at her in nothing but thin pink pants. Her gorgeous titties stuck out, their nipples stiff and canting upward.
"Baby!" he growled, and pulled her into his arms.
He'd spent a dry night, and was about as horny as she was today.
Both his hands gripped her lush bottom, pulling her against him as their mouths merged. Their lips spread widely apart and their tongues communed.
Candy whimpered. Her tits itched against his coarse shirt.
She pulled her mouth free. "Come on ... strip!" she demanded.
"Hey, wait a minute. Let's have that drink, okay?"
"Fuck the drink! I want you!"
He watched her bend to peel her panties away. Her tits swayed like bells tolling.
His cock was hard in his pants. He opened and dropped the trousers, letting his pecker stretch his Jockey briefs farther forward. He kicked his loafers and pant legs off, his tally whacker bobbing up and down in the white knit.
Candy straightened up and tossed her panties onto a chair. She gazed at Mark, with his cock standing out in those clingy shorts. Her intense hunger overcame her and, as Mark pulled his turtle-neck shirt up and over his head, she dropped to her knees on the carpet in front of him.
She clawed his shorts down to his thighs, and his stiff cock sprang out to point directly at her face.
Mark tossed his shirt aside just in time to see her blonde head drop. Her open mouth caught his cockhead, enclosing it completely. Her tongue worked over it wetly as she sucked. She bobbed her head.
Mark clenched his fists and hung on. He tilted back his head and jammed his eyes shut.
Jesus, can this bitch suck cock! And he had taught her. He took some satisfaction in that.
But more significant was the fact that he looked down on her, figuratively as well as literally, for approaching him this way-so hungrily, without any pride.
Love her? Did he really? He loved to have her suck his cock, but....
She twisted her head this way and that, taking more and more of his dingus into her mouth and throat. She tongued him wildly, titillating the tip of his prick as he had taught her to do. Now she licked it underneath, in an equally sensitive place. She bobbed her head some more.
He was grooving good. Too good to hold out for long. He wanted to screw her now.
He got a grip on her wildly active head and lifted it off his quivering dong.
"Come on, baby," .he said. "Lie down."
She flopped onto her back on the rug and spread her lovely legs. He gazed at the pink gash which divided her curly blonde fluff. It was dribbling with honey.
But he didn't want to eat that honey today. He just wanted to screw her.
He yanked off his briefs and got down onto his knees on the floor. He moved up.
"Noooh!" she cried, and pushed at him frantically.
"What's the matter?" He blinked down at her.
"Do the other."
"I don't feel like it today."
"But I do!"
"Well see ... maybe later," he said, and sought to sink his cock in her pussy.
She put her hand down and covered her pink slit.
"Hey ... wait a minute." He was trying to remain sweet, but he was a little angry.
"The other first!" she demanded. "I want your tongue."
What the hell did she think he was-a blasted cunt-lapper? He was a man. He would eat cunt, of course, and he would do everything else when he felt like it. But right now he felt like sinking his stiff dick into her, and that was what he was going to do.
He grasped her hand, pulled it away from her pussy, and, as she shrieked in protest, drove forward and down with his cock, shoving it in between the slick, pink lips of her cunt.
"Goddamn you!" she cried.
"What the hell's the matter?" he demanded, as he ground his prick deep and hard into her pussy. "Have you gotten so you can't make it without being frenched?"
"I frenched you."
"I didn't ask you to. Relax. Swing with it. I'll give you a good screwing."
"I don't want to be screwed!" she said. "I can get screwed at home."
He gazed down at her beautiful face, which was twisted out of shape now. He saw naked selfishness in it. For the first time, he recognized her for the spoiled bitch she was.
He pulled his cock out of her pussy with a wet, sucking sound. She stared at him in amazement as he got to his feet, his prick bobbing. It stood high, its rosy head swollen and wet with her lubricant.
"You wouldn't stop like that," she said.
"Why not? What goes up will come down."
"But you'll stay hung up inside."
"What do you know about how I am inside? What do you care?"
She closed her legs and sat up. "Mark, please let's not fight."
"I didn't want to fight. I wanted to screw." She gazed at him for a moment and watched his pecker begin to drop.
Her expression turned hard, and she fell onto her back, spreading her legs again.
"All right!" she exclaimed resentfully. "Stick your prick into my cunt, if that's the only thing that interests you."
He looked at the pretty pussy, which was split before him. His prick stopped falling and began to inch up and out again.
He dropped to his knees between her thighs, gripped his prick and worked it a couple of times by hand to achieve complete stiffness, while he looked at the little pink cunt-mouth into which he would poke it.
Then he dropped forward and ran the slick prick deeply into Candy's snatch. He rotated and stroked, working her alternately with short strokes and long, moving all the time, gradually increasing the tempo.
It was a good steady technique, calculated to keep all her nerve ends under constant stimulation. He pumped into her from one slant, then another; he stroked straight in and out; he wiggled his pecker deep.
Candy didn't move at all. She glared up at him.
He buried his face in her neck and kept screwing. He still couldn't make her respond.
Finally he decided, to hell with it, and forged ahead for his come, fucking hard and rapidly until he ejaculated, jerking and releasing his warm, thick fluid.
He pulled his cock out and stood up.
Candy slapped her thighs closed and sat up, titties bobbing.
He held out his hand to help her to her feet, but she turned away and got up alone.
She felt worse than she had last night. How dare Mark treat her this way, after she'd given him everything!
He couldn't appreciate her anger. He'd given her a good screwing. What more did a woman really need? The oral stuff was okay, when both partners felt like it, but when one of them didn't, the other should accept that fact. He hadn't asked Candy to give him a blow job. He'd enjoyed it while it was going on, but he hadn't appreciated the fact that she'd approached him solely on that basis. She had developed a real hangup for French sex.
Candy fled into the bathroom. For the second time in a row, she ended a sex session by diddling herself.