Chapter 5
Even though leaving Gary and Susan behind at college was painful for me, I decided that going to California would give me the one further chance that I needed.
I was tired of being called a slut and being known as a trashy girl who would put out for any guy. There were instances in my diary where I would comment that I had gotten a particular guy to fuck me and I felt that it was a boost to my ego.
Well, there were enough instances like that, that affected my ego in a positive way, that I no longer needed ego bolstering things to happen to me.
What I really needed was to learn how to have a meaningful relationship with a guy. That really sounds like a phrase out of my college days. But, now that I'm already in my middle twenties rather than being a kid, I know that I want a meaningful relationship.
If that sounds like a cliche, there is nothing that I can do about it.
When I went to California I decided that I would not get a reputation as the slut of my new school. But, I soon discovered that it was even easier than I had thought to maintain that promise to myself.
The music school where I went to study piano and composition in Los Angeles was a very wild place. I was able to fuck all the guys that I wanted and still not get any particular reputation. It wasn't that I had changed it was that I was surrounded by people who were doing the same exact thing as I had been doing all along.
Almost all of the girls in that music school were willing to put out for the boys and so when I came along and was ready to spread my legs for anyone with a nice cock, it was a simple matter of living my life and fitting in with the rest of the group.
I had been in Los Angeles for almost three years and I had almost finished my time at school when I finally had a relationship with somebody.
It is sufficient to say here that the end of that relationship was the reason that I came back to New York. I couldn't stay in the same city with him and I knew that I had to start my life over again once we broke up.
Many people will say to me, "But you were only together for eight months. How serious could that have been for you?"
My response is, "It was serious!" It was certainly the most serious relationship that I ever had in my life and the one for which I had the most hope.
There are times that I feel that our relationship died because we fucked it to death. In retrospect I fear that we were doing a little too much fucking for our own good!
We would both come home from work and I would put up something for dinner. Then he would, fuck me before we ate as we were waiting for dinner to be done.
While we were eating dinner, we would make plans about going to see a movie or calling some friends and getting together with them. But by the time that we finished dinner and he had done the dishes, we would be back in bed once again.
Sometimes we would just have some foreplay and then watch some television before we had our final night fuck. But there were other times when we could not control the foreplay and would not bother with the television, so that we would end up fucking twice before the evening was over and we were both able to get to sleep.
In the morning when we would wake up, he would usually fuck me, although I am not a morning person and did not respond well to the attacks that would take place at that hour.
It was with that sort of pattern that the two of us continued. We never saw friends and we hardly ever went out to the movies or the beach. There were some Sundays when the blinds would be down all day long and we would fuck wildly from morning to night without ever putting on a stitch of clothing.
Even though we were only together for eight months, there are some couples who have been married for five years who have not fucked as many times as we did!
By the time that the relationship came to an end, I realized, sadly, that we didn't have anything to talk about.
The only thing that the two of us had ever done was to fuck! Even though we kept on finding different positions and we kept on using different fantasies, I suppose that we needed more in our relationship.
And yet, how can any relationship be faulted that was as much fun as ours was.
There was one night, the night when we first began to get off on fantasy trips, when I was starting to climb under the blankets, after having turned off the lights.
As I was getting into the bed, naked, I looked at my lover's handsome and clean-cut features. I smiled down at him and said, "Oh, Skip! There's nothing to be afraid of."
Of course, his name was not Skip and he was not showing any signs of fear. But as I pulled the covers up over us and said, "Just relax and I'll teach you everything," he realized what I was doing.
"Please!" he whispered in his soft, California accent. "Be gentle with me."
I climbed on top of him and stroked his hard cock as I said, "It's so big."
"Thank you," he replied in a low voice. And we were off on a fantasy trip.
"I'm going to put your thick cock up my pussy!" I said to the boy. I could feel it pulsing in my fingers as I stroked it up and down and pressed it closer to my cunt.
Then I began to work the dick into the tight and clinging folds of my cunt flesh. The boy was moaning and groaning as he called out, "It feels so good!"
Anyway, the fantasies that we shared after that knew no bounds. It was delightful and I suppose that one of the real advantages of having a regular lover is that you don't feel the embarrassment and the constraints that you feel with a stranger. That means that you're even more willing to let yourself go and to act out your fantasies.
I know that that is a big part of why I keep on going back to the singles' bar at my corner. It's so easy to go there and knowing that I am a relatively new face makes me attractive to the men who are there.
The night that Bobby had gotten on the subject of my drinking his piss, I wandered away from the bar, feeling that I wanted to find some man who would take me home for the night.
I had already determined that, although he was complimentary to me and although he was coming on to me at the bar and kissing me, Bobby would not come home with me because of his lover and the fact that he felt he had to return home to her.
In the course of the evening I spoke to a number of different men, but either they didn't interest me or I didn't interest them.
Then I was standing at the rectangular bar and I looked around to the side that was next to mine. I noticed that there was a powerfully built black man who was standing there.
I looked away from him. It's not that I have a thing against black men, it was just that I really couldn't tell how hot he was at a distance.
But when I looked back at him, I could see that he was still staring directly at him. Looking down at my watch, I noticed that it was well after two in the morning and the bar was already beginning to empty out so that there were only half as many people as there had been when I came in.
The black stud was insistent in the way that he was looking at me. Since the admiration of a man is always a sure way to get my pussy juice flowing, the looks of the black man were getting me hot and wet in my cunt.
I looked down at my glass of white wine. It was my fifth and I was beginning to feel the affects of it. After my second glass, I had put it down on the bar and Bobby Ray had come over to smile at me. Then he poured another glass of wine and placed it in front of me.
At that point I was going to leave. But when I saw that he had poured more wine for me, I reached into my pocket to pull another dollar out.
He pushed the dollar back towards me with a wry smile on his face as he said, "Is this yours? This isn't mine." Then, indicating the glass of wine, he said, "I don't know who this is for. I poured this and now it'll go to waste."
I took the wine, feeling that it would be foolish not to take it, and said a soft "Thank you," to the black-eyed bartender who was running his fingers over the back of my hand.
Since I had stayed for that third drink, I found that I was staying for a fourth and a fifth as well. It was clear to me that Bobby Ray really knew how to run his bar and how to handle his customers.
Now that I was on my fifth glass of wine, I was looking at the black stud and waiting for him to come toward me or to make some sort of gesture to me.
But, then I looked down at the wine again and realized that I really didn't want to have him coming toward me. I didn't know yet what he looked like. Usually I would keep track of the men who were in a bar so that if I saw someone from a distance I would already know from a closer encounter whether or not I wanted to make it with him.
This black stud, however, had come in quietly and sat down in his place while I had been drinking at my own place. I hadn't noticed him and there hadn't been a chance to see him closer.
Taking my drink in my hand, I walked around the bar toward the jukebox. It was blaring out an obnoxious cowboy sort of song that grated up my spine.
"With four hungry children and a crop in the field!
I had some bad times! Lived through some sad times!
But this time the hurtin' won't heal!"
I had to pass the black man to get to the jukebox and as I stood at the jukebox, pretending that I was interested in making a selection, I looked out of the corner of my eye and I saw that the black stud was looking at me.
That was when I smiled up at him and sort of moved my glass of wine as though I were saluting him. In the game of picking up men at bars, I had learned that smiling was the step that followed looking.
But he didn't smile back. He kept on staring at me. I was confused. I was used to one of two reactions. Either a man would smile or he would turn away from me.
Then I nodded and said, "Hello."
He nodded and said, "Hello." But, even when he had done that he didn't smile. His black eyes felt like they were burning through me as he kept on looking.
My smile became an embarrassed giggle as I took a step closer to him and said, "I noticed that you were looking at me over there."
"Any crime against me looking at you?" he asked me in a cold voice.
"No!" I said, quickly. "I was looking at you also."
Why did we have to go through all of this conversation? Why couldn't I just say, "Wanna fuck my hot pussy?" My cunt was steaming up as I looked at the muscular black frame.
Even though he never smiled at me, we went through the same series of questions that I had been through with a million other guys. His name was Joe and he lived in the Nineties. When I asked him what he was doing in my neighborhood at that time of night, he said that he drove a cab and had just returned it to a garage a block away from the bar.
"After a night of driving a cab I can imagine that you need to unwind," I said.
I was leaning against one of the barstools and he was sitting on the next one. His hand grasped at my hips and pulled me to his body. Even through all of the layers of clothes that we were wearing, I could feel the hardness of his cock outlined.
"I need a lot more than a little unwinding," he growled at me as he pressed hard against my body.
Joe was rubbing back and forth against the front of my body and I could feel the moist heat that was emanating from my pussy.
"What else do you need?" I asked, tossing my long brown hair back.
"I need something that you got, girl!" he said in a low and mean voice as he smiled.
At least he finally smiled. He kept rubbing his crotch back and forth against mine and then he said, "You live right around the corner here?"
"Yeah," I replied. "But I'm just moving in. My furniture hasn't come yet."
"What are you sleeping on?" he asked me, raising his voice a little bit.
Shrugging my shoulders, I said, "I have a choice of using my sleeping bag or going up to my friend's apartment on the Upper West Side. But I can't bring anyone back to my friend's apartment!"
"Sure!" the black man said, pressing his body against mine. Then he pressed his lips down and I could feel the thick and warm lips rubbing against my own.
Pulling away from his face, I said, "We could try doing it in the sleeping bag!"
"I got a better place to do it. Let's go!" he said as he took my hand.
I followed him out the door of the bar and then I followed him down Ninth Avenue as he went to his taxi garage. There was a night watchman at the garage door and Joe nodded to him. The night watchman nodded back and didn't even seem to notice me.
"Is this all right?" I asked the man. "Going in here like this?"
"Don't worry," Joe said, leading me over to the fleet of cabs that were all parked.
He opened the door of one of them that was parked up against the brick wall and I climbed into the back seat. That was the most gallant gesture that he had made.
But the next thing I knew, he had closed the door of the cab and he was pressing his body down on top of mine. As he rubbed back and forth against my body I could feel his thick cock growing even thicker against my crotch.
"I wanna have me a nice piece of white pussy!" he groaned under his breath as he began to pull at the slacks that I was wearing.
He peeled them down my legs and seemed to enjoy the feeling of the silky white panties that I had on. Then he worked my blouse up my arms until I was naked except for the panties.
Doing everything in the confined space of the cab was somewhat uncomfortable and yet I was finding it very exciting because his body kept on bumping into mine.
As he tossed his shirt aside and pulled down his loose cotton pants, his enormous cock was dangling down between his legs. My eyes glistened as I looked at the size of the cock.
Then I could feel the man's powerful black hands pulling at the flesh on the inside of my thighs. He leaned forward and pressed his thick lips against my cunt lips.
Joe was not interested in tenderly caressing my pussy lips. He just wanted to get them good and wet so that they would be ready for his thick rammer.
Licking and slobbering all over my cunt lips, he was getting me ready for the hot fucking that he was planning. Then, with his powerful black arms still looped under my legs, he spread me apart much wider than I ever thought was possible.
Since we were lying across the back seat of the parked cab, he tossed my left leg over the back of the front seat and he tossed my right leg over the back of the back seat.
In that way I felt like I was straddling the seats of the car even though my small and nicely rounded ass cheeks were down against the bottom of the back seat.
His cock was soon pressing against the wrinkled flesh of my pussy lips and he was working it into the hot confines of my vagina.
I tried to arch my hips up so that I could meet the thrusts of his cock. But I was in such an awkward position that I found it was an impossible thing to do.
But soon he grabbed my ass cheeks in his hand and he lifted them up from the seat of the cab, pressing his cock harder against my pussy lips and slamming into me.
When he got the entire length of his dick up my pussy, I could feel the wild sensation of the cock that was ramming in and out of my hot hole.
Joe didn't pause for a thing. He didn't even pause to allow my cunt flesh to relax around his wildly moving cock meat. He was sliding in and out so fast that I am sure my pussy flesh could not even react to the wild movements that were going on.
Usually when a guy will shove his dick all the way into my cunt, it will separate the walls of the pussy so that he can fit his cock shaft into me. Then when he pulls his cock out of my hot hole, the walls of the pussy will rush to clasp together again.
That way, when he pushes into me again, it will push apart the pussy walls and send that wild chill through my body which is caused by the strange pressure against my cunt meat.
But, in the case of Joe, he was moving back and forth so wildly against my cunt meat that my pussy flesh was not even clasping together after he would pull his cock out of my hot hole.
When he would pull back out of my cunt,-I would feel an emptiness in my twat, but I would soon be filled again by the slashing and ramming of the thick black prong.
As he continued to move his cock wildly in and out of the confines of my twat, I was trying to relax the walls of my pussy. But his cock was so big and so thick that no matter what I did I found that I still could not relax my muscles.
His powerful black arms grabbed at the flesh of my thighs and he was holding my thighs up in an awkward, spread position as he continued to ram and slam at my cunt.
I could feel his cock fucking my pussy in such a vicious Way that as soon as any cunt cream was drooling out of my body, his cock slid back and forth over it and created such a hot friction that it seemed to melt right away into my flesh.
My head was turning back and forth as I felt a strange undulation in my pussy that told me that my cunt flesh was on the verge of exploding around the thick cock.
Then he began to angle his hips in different directions. If any other guy had done that it would have been really terrific, but since Joe's cock was already so thick and such a chore for me to deal with, I could hardly stand the strange strain on my cunt.
When he would turn his hips to the left side, his cock would slam into the opposite side of my pussy flesh. Then he would turn his hips to the right side and the broad head of his hard dick would slam right up against the right side of my pussy flesh.
As he kept on doing that, I was going crazy from the erotic stimulation and the vicious, blasting sensation that was rushing through my body.
Part of the excitement was that I was never really sure where his cock was going to hit the next time that it slammed into my hot pussy.
Although it was so painful, my cunt was starting to spasm wildly around the cock. That made it even more painful for the black stud to work his dick in and out of my hot hole.
But that didn't seem to deter him. Even though my pussy was tightening up and was spasming all around his hard prong, he kept on poking and ramming it into my cunt.
Often when I would be fucked by a guy and would be cumming, the guy would keep on moving his cock around inside of my pussy as I was cumming. That little bit of movement would be enough to drive me absolutely insane with passionate pleasure.
The sensation that I was feeling as the black stud was ramming his enormous prong all the way in and out of my cunt was unbelievable.
My orgasm just kept going and it was as though there were a fight between my cunt and his cock. My cunt would spasm and tighten up as his cock pulled all the way out of my hole.
Then he would ram his cock back in, just as if there were nothing going on in my pussy.
Finally, he pushed the entire length of his dick all the way into my cunt and I could feel the pulsing at the base of his cock as his cock head arched up and splashed flaming gism against my body.
The two of us were locked together in a long and hard orgasm, during which my bare feet kept on rubbing over the upholstery of the cab and kept on hitting against the closed windows.
My fingers were running over the powerfully taut flesh of the black stud and I enjoyed the smell of his pungent sweat that was so close to my nose. I enjoyed the look of my white fingers against the very black flesh of his shoulders and the feeling of the extraordinary muscles that were underneath the flesh.
After a long moment when the two of us were breathing together, he began to pull his cock slowly out of my pussy and I could feel the relief of relaxation.
"You liked that, girl! Didn't you?" the black stud grinned sheepishly.
"Yeah," I said, trying to catch my breath.
"Good!" He said, as he sat on the seat and pulled his pants up.
It was awkward getting dressed inside the cab, but we managed to do it. He looked at his watch when we got out of the cab and said, "It's almost four."
"I don't mind," I said. "I'm a night person. I'm always up this late!"
"I better walk you home!" he said, pushing his hands in his pockets.
My home was only around the corner and as he got there I stopped and said, "Do you always work these late hours? I mean, do you always bring your cab into the garage at this hour?"
"Usually. Yeah," he said, in the same bored way that he had used all night.
I reached into the pocket of my slacks and I pulled out a little card that I had there. Then I quickly jotted my number down as I said, "Since I live so close to the garage, I figure that I ought to give you my number. like I said, I'm always up late."
"Yeah. Thanks," the black stud said, as he took the number and shoved it in his pocket.
I stood looking at him for another moment and then he kissed me before he turned away from me.
My building was very lonely and quiet at that hour, but then I suppose that most buildings are lonely and quiet at that hour. When I got into my apartment, I pulled my clothes off and stood naked in front of the full-length mirror that I had already brought there.
I had started to bring some of my things down to the apartment each time that I went up to my friend's place or out to my parents' home in Brooklyn, the two places where I had stored things.
When I stood naked in front of the mirror, I said, "Diana, you're a beautiful girl! Why can't you find the right sort of fella who would treat you nice?"
Running my hand down my body, the answer came to me and I looked away from the mirror as I said, "Because I'm doing it all wrong! I'm finding the wrong sort of men!"
By the time that my fingers had brushed over my pussy lips, I could feel the warmth and the moisture that had been left there by the black cock that had been fucking me.
I was sure that I could still feel the aching strain that his cock had caused as it pulled so hard against the sides of my pussy slit.
Pressing my finger into my cunt, I could feel the mingled moisture that was inside of the pussy lips. I brought it up to my lips, knowing that it was a combination of my own pussy juice with the cock cream of the black cabdriver who had fucked me.
Sliding my wet finger across my lips, I could feel and taste the delicious moisture and then I knew that I had to frig myself.
That was the really crazy part. I had just enjoyed the thick black prong that had rammed and slammed at my cunt and I was going to finger-fuck my pussy because I was feeling hot again.
It was as if I would never find any satisfaction. I was going to continue to get hot and to need more and more cocks shoved inside of me. With the fire in my cunt, I soon forgot about the questions I had been asking myself in the mirror.
I was sprawled out on the sleeping bag, rubbing my fingers up and down around my pussy and wishing I had the black stud again.