Chapter 3
PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT
"Oh Eddie, I've had enough. Please let me up!" Joyce begged the beady-eyed guy as he pinned Joyce's nude body to the side of the couch and rammed his dick in her from behind.
Joyce's big ass stuck up voluptuously and Eddie couldn't tear himself away from the soft, white flesh. It kept drawing him to her like a magnet. Her skin was so smooth and soft that a crane couldn't keep his cunt-seeking cock from plunging into her.
Joyce had decided to stay with both Eddie and Butch for a little while, at least until she got herself established in the music profession. One of the prerequisites of her remaining was that she always had to be naked, except for a sheet that she could wear when she was cold or when company was over.
Eddie was taking advantage of this condition and jabbed his cock into her whenever he ventured close to her or whenever she struck a provocative pose.
"Eddie, get your cock in your pants and let's get this place ready for the rehearsal. Carmine said she'd be here any minute."
"I'm busy, Butch. Can't you see that?"
Eddie said, continuing to slide his dick in and out of the plump girl.
Joyce resigned herself to Eddie's unending passions and worked on getting his cock to shoot its load into her. That way he'd have to cut his movements short. She was getting sore and it hurt.
She moved her buttocks backward to meet his plunging thrusts, causing them to drive even further into her and causing her some little tinges of excitement. She forgot the pain and began to enjoy the cock lunges.
Then she felt Eddie's warped shaft shoot its hot stuff deep into her and felt the aftermath of its throbbings as Eddie clutched tightly onto her asscheeks and kept his hot dick deep inside her.
"Eddie, you're not going to stop now," Joyce moaned just getting to where she liked what he was doing.
"I'm sorry Joyce, but I did it. Maybe we can do it again after the rehearsal."
"But I promised Butchie," Joyce said, remaining in her bent over position.
"Just a second Joyce. Hey Butch, come over here and ram your cock into this whimpering girl. She needs a big one."
"That's for me!" Butch yelled, throwing down his guitar and rushing over to Joyce. Her eyes were shut and she waited patiently for satisfaction. Butch pulled out a long thin dick and waved it near her slimy hole. "This is it, Joyce. Tell me how it feels."
Eddie stood by and watched as Butch shoved his long dick up into Joyce's fleshy insides. She squirmed as the long thing ran up in her like a snake. She began vibrating her whole body and squeezing her pussy on the thin thing. Butch held tightly onto her flanks and slid it in and out at lightning speed.
He felt his cock tingle, and just as Joyce began violently heaving her buttocks up toward his lunges and clutching at his cock with her inner muscles, he spurted his wad into her. He rammed her buttocks harder and harder as he shot, pushing his dick all the way in and hitting her soft warm cheeks with his own thighs.
"That ought to do it," Eddie said, satisfied somehow that Butch had driven Joyce to a climax.
"Damn right it should," Butch said, pulling out his cock and wiping the slimy thing on the side of the couch next to Joyce. "Let's get over and start playing."
"Right," Eddie said, throwing a sheet over Joyce as she remained bent over the couch, her head resting on the arm, her naked buttocks still up in the air.
"Eddie! Butch! Are you up there?" a voice screamed from the street.
"It's Carmine," Eddie said to Butch. "We got finished just in time."
"Yeah, we're up here! Come on up!" Butch screamed out the window to Carmine below. "Hope Carmine's tits show through her blouse today," Butch continued to Eddie. "I'm tired of Joyce's big floppy ones. I want to see some nice pert nipples."
"Ah, cut it out, Butch. You'll have all the snatch you can eat in a matter of weeks. Leave Carmine alone. She's too good for the likes of you."
"Oh yeah? Well, I'd like to see the day you can please a black girl better than me. They'd see your warped dick and laugh themselves silly."
"Anytime you want to have a contest, pencil dick, I'll be ready."
"Hi boys, ready to roll?" Carmine said bursting through the door.
"I am," Eddie said, "but I don't know about this nut. He seems to have other things on his mind."
"Oh, fuck you," Butch said to Eddie.
"Now, now, boys. No arguing. We've got things to do. Where's Billy?"
"I don't know," Eddie said. "He said he'd be here. I called him earlier."
"Yeah, I did too," Carmine said. "Well, let's get started anyway. He'll be along."
Joyce sat on the couch wrapped in her sheet as the band started to play. Carmine sang with gusto and Butch played a little too loud, drowning her out most of the time. But they kept playing for about fifteen minutes and ran through their standard songs. Carmine had written most of them and they were destined to be big sellers. If only they had the right kind of exposure.
"Not so loud, Butch," Carmine said as she paused in her singing to give her vocal chords a break. She noticed Joyce sitting on the couch staring at them. "What's she still doing here?" Carmine asked Eddie.
"Oh, she'll be with us a while. We convinced her to stay until she got a break. Maybe we can let her sing a song with the band."
"Oh no," Carmine said emphatically, "not with my band!"
"Well, don't tell her so," Eddie whispered. "I want her to stay a while. You know, she's good for housework and things."
"Yeah," Carmine smiled, "and things!"
"You want to take the theme song again?" Butch said suddenly, strumming his electric guitar wildly, trying to impress Joyce.
"Might as well," Carmine said, grabbing the microphone and whirling out toward a make believe stage. "Ohh, come along and be my party doll, oh please babyyy..." she began singing and shaking her firm ass in Eddie's face.
He could hardly keep the rhythm as he watched it wiggle and longed to reach over to her crotch and fondle the black pussy lips that he knew must be hanging deliciously down between her shiny black thighs.
"Come on, Eddie," Carmine screamed. "Can't you keep the beat? What the hell's wrong with you?"
"Er, sorry Carmine, I wasn't concentrating. Let's try it again."
"Okay, but try and listen to what you're doing," Carmine said, turning once more toward the front of the room.
They thumped out the tune again and this time Eddie looked away from Carmine so he wouldn't be distracted. Butch watched her, though. He tried to make out the tips of her nipples through her brown blouse. It was too bad that the color of her blouse blended so well with her breast color. Butch couldn't see a thing.
All of a sudden, the front door burst open and Billy barged in. He was partially drunk and his guitar case was half open.
"Well, what's happenin'? Am I late?"
"Come on, Billy, you know you're late. Get your guitar out and let's go," Carmine said walking over to him.
"Righto, Carmine babes. Be with ya in a moment." Billy stumbled about trying to get the guitar out of his case and almost stepped on it in the process. "I'll have it in a minute. Don't worry about a thing."
"Well, hurry up," Eddie said irritably. He didn't like the way Billy drank so much and couldn't be depended on to show up.
"Jest hold yer horses," Billy drawled as he put the guitar around his neck and walked over to the group. "How's that? Perfectly ready." Billy's breath stank and Butch turned away from him.
"Okay, let's try Paddy Boy once more. Do you know it, Billy?" Carmine asked.
"What do you mean, do I know it? Of course I know it. Why I practically wrote the tune."
"Let's go then," Carmine said.
She launched the band into the tune and they played half way through it when she stopped them. "What's going on, Billy? Your fingers sore?"
"Well, you know how it is," Billy drawled. "You don't play in a while and, say, who's that dame over there? She looks real nice." Billy began to stagger over toward the couch.
"Oh no," Carmine sighed, "now well never get him back here."
The three of them watched as Billy strode up to the couch and flopped beside Joyce. She just sat there, glad to have attracted the attentions of another musician.
"Howdy," Billy slurred when he was beside her. "You look sweet as a cherry blossom. What's under that sheet you got there?"
"Oh, just me," Joyce giggled. Billy lifted the edge of the sheet and peeked under it.
"My, you've got nothing on, how exciting!" Billy said, reaching the full length of his arm up under the sheet to feel her warm, flabby limbs.
'Tired of rehearsing, Billy?" Carmine yelled to him.
"Er, be right with you," Billy howled back as he began shoving his head under the sheet to sniff the naked girl. He plunged his head up and down the round curves of her legs and it bobbed up against the underpart of the sheet.
"I guess that ends the rehearsal for today," Carmine said, turning to Eddie and Butch.
"Looks that way," Butch said, putting away his guitar. "Why don't you call us with a regular rehearsal schedule instead of having to call everyday. That way maybe Billy will be able to make it without first stopping at the liquor store."
"Good idea, Butch. I'll give you a ring tomorrow." Carmine headed for the door and glanced at the couple moving around under the sheet, forcing all kinds of lumpy jabs under it.
Butch and Eddie lost no time in getting to the action and immediately began tearing off their clothes and crawling in with the struggling couple. Carmine watched them for a minute and then left the room. She'd seen enough of Joyce and her sex jerkings for once. She hoped the silly girl didn't wreck the band with all her distractions. Maybe she'd let her be a go-go dancer or something, just to get the guys used to her floppy figure.
Carmine walked into the street, her long, tall body gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight. She decided to walk over to her apartment. She wanted to limber up after that unsatisfying practice session and she wanted to go over some songs in her mind. They weren't perfect yet and needed a lot of rehearsing. A good run through wasn't enough for most of these songs. They needed to be completely redone.
"Uh, excuse me Miss, but could you tell me the way to Seventh Avenue, I seem to be lost."
Carmine looked up and saw a thin, wispy looking man, a young guy, looking at her. He was well-dressed with a light suit and shiny shoes. His hair was long and blond and very fine looking.
"Well," Carmine hesitated for an instant, "why don't you just come along with me, that's where I'm headed."
"Well, thank you very much. That would be very nice." The man crossed the street with Carmine and appeared a little nervous.
He'd never been spoken to so forewardly by a young black woman before. They were always so crude and uncultured. The young, thin man was surprised.
"Are you in show business?" he timidly asked the big black woman striding beside him.
"Well, you might say that," Carmine said firmly, staring across at him.
She was as tall as he was and could look right into his pale blue eyes. They seemed almost clear to her like she could see right through to the back of his head. She stared at him as they walked and he turned his eyes away.
"I'm a singer," Carmine continued.
"Oh, that's marvelous," the little man said. "Who do you sing for?"
"Well, I sing with a group, you know, a band. I write all the material and dictate how it's supposed to be played. It's my band."
"What's the name of it?"
"Oh, we just use my name mostly. They call us, Carmine. That's my name. Sometimes they call us Carmine Canto, which is my full name, but usually we just call ourselves Carmine. I'm the star singer."
"You certainly look like a star," the little man said as he looked at Carmine's firm tits shaking lightly as she walked.
Her thin waist invited a touch and the man's eyes unavoidably dropped to her swaying rounded tips. Carmine's imposing appearance scared the man slightly and lie didn't know what to say to the big black woman. He began to get scared of her.
"What do you do? How come you're lost?
Are you new to the city?" Carmine's voice rung clear as a bell and reverberated in the thin man's brain.
"I haven't been here long. I just came from Europe where I was visiting some friends. You know, they had this chateau outside of Paris. It was very nice."
"Yeah, it sounds nice," Carmine said, beginning to get interested in this meek guy.
He sounded like he could come in handy. Besides, he had a handsome face and he looked like she wouldn't have trouble controlling him.
"Listen," Carmine said firmly, "you like music, don't you? Why don't you hop up to my place and hear some of the things I've done. I'm right at the corner of Seventh Avenue."
"Well, ah ... " the thin-haired, wispy guy stammered, not knowing how to answer.
Her commanding voice seemed to have a grip on him and he became afraid to refuse. He tried to look the big Amazon in the face but was unable to meet her gaze and instead found his eyes dropping and landing on her bouncy, pert breasts. He didn't know where to look and was forced to stare straight ahead down the sidewalk or across the street into the traffic to avoid being overcome by her presence.
He felt unable to say no. Her big black limb might reach out and grab him and squeeze the vessels in his arm. He was terrified of this black creature and for a moment couldn't answer.
'That sounds like a pleasant idea," he finally blurted out, his voice shaking with fear.
"Well, that's wonderful. Glad you could spend the time," Carmine said cheerfully, swishing her hips wider than ever and swaying her long, black body to the rhythm of her steps. "Come on, it's right over this way."
The thin, well-dressed man followed the tall black woman to an old apartment building and they started up the steps.
"You ever been in a place like this?" Carmine said loudly.
"Ah, no. I don't think I have," the man said uneasily. He looked around at the peeling walls of the stairway and became even more frightened. If this black woman smashed him right there, how would any of his friends or relatives ever find out about it? They could dispose of his body and no one would ever find out.
He began to shake but calmed slightly as he began to stare at the swaying buttocks and long black legs that walked up the stairs right in front of him. Other thoughts began to crowd into his mind and his fear became pushed to the side.
"Well, here we are," Carmine said, pushing open the door of her small apartment. The small man timidly walked through the door into the black woman's den.
"This is quite a cozy place you've got here," the thin man said. "By the way, my name is Peter Byer. I don't think I really introduced myself before."
"That's alright," Carmine said, walking past him and over to the table. "What do you do for a living, Peter?"
"Oh, I'm a bum really. My family has plenty of wealth and I don't do too much but travel. I am an informal public relations man for my father's company, I suppose." Peter took off his coat and laid it on the arm of the one chair in the apartment. He sat in it while Carmine put on a record.
'That must be pleasant not having to work everyday and still being able to buy all the things you want," Carmine said, settling on the bed and crossing her long legs. "Listen to this song. I know all the cats who made this disc."
The record came on and loud strains blared from the speaker.
"You like it?" Carmine asked the timid guy.
"Well, I don't know," Peter said. "I don't think it's exactly my type of music."
"You have to get used to it. It's not something you can learn to like overnight. Although I guess some people have." She smiled at him. "Mind if I slip into something more comfortable? These pants are just so tight." Carmine tugged at her pussy as she spoke, causing nervous tremors to race around Peter's body.
The room was very small and Peter didn't notice anywhere for Carmine to change but right there in front of him. Would she ask him to turn his head away? He looked at her while she continued to talk and her hands found their way to the zipper on the side of her pants. Peter began to sweat.
"How old are you, Peter?" Carmine asked in rich voice as her long black fingers worked to unfasten the pants top.
"I, I'm twenty-six," Peter said, shifting nervously in his chair. He could feel his rarely used dick begin to stir beneath his pants and uncrossed his legs to give it room to stretch.
"Maybe you'll let me show you around the city some time. I'm sure there's a lot you don't know." Carmine continued to remove her pants and in one swooping motion pulled them right down to her ankles.
Her black shiny legs were in striking contrast to the white panties that covered her gnarled pussy hair. Peter could hardly keep from jumping up and ramming his head between her sleek thighs. They shone like the top of an ebony table and looked as smooth and luscious as a loaf of ginger bread.
Peter felt his dick grow and grow until he thought it would rip through his pants. He wanted to leap right from the chair onto the black female, but something held him down and the fear he felt for her began to creep back into his body.
"I hope this doesn't embarrass you, Peter. But we show business people are very open with ourselves." Carmine then yanked her blouse quickly over her head, just brushing her nipples enough to make them stick straight out.
"You're such a timid guy, Peter. Don't you like me?"
Carmine walked slowly over to the chair where Peter sat, bouncing just enough so her tit nipples shook invitingly. She swayed her hips and rubbed her black thighs together as she approached him. She looked positively terrifying to Peter, who'd always been taught to stay away from black women.
"Er, yeah, I like you," Peter said, his head starting to become dizzy.
He felt like he would faint if she got any closer to him, but still she kept coming. He thought he could even hear the scraping of the leathery black skin of her thighs as she walked. He had visions of her crushing his head between the black things, of her squeezing him to death with her black spider-like arms.
"You seem nervous, Peter baby. What's the matter?" Carmine stopped by the arm of the chair and ran her pink palms through Peter's thin blond hair. She stroked him until she noticed his eyes partly closed and a giant bulge under his pants.
She reached down and carefully loosened his tie. "Take this off, Peter boy, you'll be more comfortable." She unbuttoned his shirt and slid her black hand in over his chest. She sat on the arm of the chair and let her gray, pointed tit brush his tender white cheek.
Peter sat trembling in the chair, unable to move. He groaned loudly when he felt Carmine's roving hand move down to his crotch and touch the lumpy area.
"Oh please," Peter implored. "Don't do it, I'm helpless. Don't take advantage of me."
"Why Peter, I won't take advantage of you. Come with me over here. I want to show you something you might like." Carmine pulled Peter off the chair and led him across the small room to the single bed against the wall. "Now look at this, Peter. Have you ever seen anything like this?" Carmine held open her white panties for him to see down to her kinky pubic hair and her sleek black skin that ran down to meet it. "That's black on black, Peter. Have you ever seen anything like it?"
"No, I don't think..."
"No, you don't have to answer that, Peter. I know you've never seen anything like it. Now I'm going to let you do something else to me, something that you'll just love, won't you Peter?"
Peter was almost in a trance and couldn't answer her. He let her do whatever she wanted to him and had lost all the will to resist. He was completely overpowered by her blackness and her firmness, a firmness that her body reflected.
Her black sleek form defied refusal and Peter was helpless before it. Carmine's gray tits stared at him with their one-nipple eyes and he found himself reaching up timidly to stroke one.
"Ohhh, I shouldn't be doing this," Peter said. "I shouldn't be doing this."
"Nonsense," Carmine encouraged him. "This is great for you, Peter. You'll just love it."
"Please help me, Carmine. Please help me," Peter pleaded, suddenly dropping to his knees and violently kissing Carmine's cunt. He tried jamming his tongue up underneath the edge of her panties as Carmine smiled to herself.
"Sure I'll help you, Peter." She pulled her panties down and pushed her black pussy up into Peter's flushed face.
She rotated her pink pussy lips so his tongue jabbed the proper spot. She shifted her black angular body on top of him as he knelt there, shoving his nose and mouth as far into her kinky curled hair as he could. He clutched her firm, black thighs and squeezed them hard in his lily-white manicured hands.
Carmine heard him begin to whimper as she realized that he was too scared to even bring his mouth away. He would stay there forever if she wanted him to. He was her slave.
Carmine felt her pussy twinge. Evidently, Peter had a well-experienced tongue. He must have been overcome by other women in his life and they weren't as kind to him as Carmine was. They probably made him stay on his knees for hours, lapping up their tangy juices. But she felt her hips jamming down hard on his face and wanting something big up between them. She squirmed on his mouth and then lifted herself up.
"Come on, Peter, let's see what you can do. Let me help you out of these hot clothes."
She lifted him up like a helpless child and removed his shirt. She then sat him down on the couch and pulled off his shoes and socks.
"I'm going to have you, Peter. Won't you like that?" she kept saying over and over again.
She tugged at his pants and pulled them to the floor. Only his underwear and tee shirt remained on and Carmine pushed him helplessly back onto the bed.
"Don't hurt me, Carmine. Please don't hurt me." Peter pleaded with Carmine in his helplessness.
He lay still as Carmine pulled his underwear down and an enormous dick jumped out of it. Carmine could hardly believe her eyes when she saw the size of the thing. Peter was a little guy no more than five-six and weighing no more than one hundred thirty pounds. But the size of his dick was unbelievable!
It must have absorbed most of the blood in his body and must have accounted for at least a quarter of his weight when it was stiff.
Carmine threw her mouth right to the organ as soon as it popped into view. She was going to enjoy this delicious specimen for as long as possible. She was going to baby it and make sure it stayed hard to do her bidding.
"Where'd you get such a thing?" Carmine asked between sucks.
"My father lent it to me," Peter joked, seeming to loosen up for the first time. The sensations from Carmine's thick, pink lips brought new life into Peter's fear-racked body. "Do you like it?" Peter asked hesitantly.
"I love it!" Carmine said emphatically. "I've never seen one so wonderful."
"Oh, I'm so glad!" Peter said, brightening up. "I would like you to have me then. I want to put it into you."
"Why, that's great Peter. That's what I was going to do, anyway. Let me just slide myself up toward it. Are you ready for me, Peter? Do you think you can take a black woman's pussy?"
"Oh yes, Carmine. I want you now! Please get on me and let me jab into you. I want to feel you all around me!" Peter's eyes rolled in ecstasy as he spoke.
Carmine slid her black body over Peter's towering cock and pushed down hard on the rod. It shoved right into her and she squeezed it with all her might. It completely filled her cavity as she sat on him and immediately tingling sensations began filling her. She knew it wouldn't take much for her to reach fulfillment so she slowed her motions to savor every vein and bulge of the cock.
Peter's eyes rolled in his head as he occasionally caught a glimpse of the black monster woman that sat above him. Her black kinky hair and fat lips looked untamed and exciting to him. He tried pushing his giant dick further up into her as his passion increased and he began to lose the restraints he had earlier imposed on himself.
He could feel the very blackness of her thighs on his hips and wanted to hug the black creature to him and feel her gray breasts on his chest. He reached up suddenly and yanked Carmine down on top of him. He grabbed her before she knew what was happening and pulled her breasts to his.
Carmine quickly began rubbing her tits on Peter's chest as she felt his delicious cock driving in and out of her. Her thighs and knees were still curled up by his sides and the big rod moved back and forth as she raised and lowered her ass.
Suddenly, Carmine felt her pussy muscles start to go into the wonderful spasms she knew so well. She felt it pulsate slowly and then begin to contract harder and harder until her whole body racked with motion. At the same time Peter's dick began to swell and she felt a huge blob begin to move down its length to its tip and then burst forth inside her, rinsing her every crevice.
She felt warm all over as the slime flooded her insides. She rested on top of Peter and stretched her legs out on top of him.
She heard Peter begin to snore beneath her. A big shot like that probably wore the poor guy out, Carmine thought. She let her mind linger and began to doze also. She enjoyed feeling the soft, white man under her with his monstrous though delicate cock.
There was no scraping or abrasions with a white man's cock. It just slid right in, and it wasn't too hard, either. She could squeeze it with her inner pussy muscles as much as she wanted and there would be no complaining. She liked lying on top of white men. It made her feel like a conqueror.
The child-like Peter slept underneath Carmine as she wondered what to do with this white love slave. He was so rich, maybe she'd keep him around a while. He did have a monstrously big cock.
Carmine felt herself start to fall into a deep deep. She stretched once more, rubbing her hard tits on Peter's sleeping chest and straddling his legs with hers. She resolved to keep in touch with the guy. He could always be used for some successful celebrating.