Chapter 1
Christopher Adamms locked the hotel room door, after putting the "DO NOT DISTURB" sign on the outer knob.
Already in the room, and already undressing Christopher noticed, was a cheap neighborhood prostitute.
Christopher told himself that he was here for research purposes only, but it didn't wash. He did not believe himself.
The man, who was a sexual-ethnic researcher and writer, was studying the sexual abilities and fetishes of American women, by race and religion. He had already completed his research on Jewish girls.
Now he was starting with black girls. Since he did not know many black girls, he began his research by purchasing the services of a cheap neighborhood hooker.
The neighborhood was the Astoria section of Queens, which just so happened to be where Christopher lived.
Later, after he and the girl had become familiar with one another, Christopher Adamms was going to ask this prostitute a series of questions concerning her sex life, both professional and personal.
But, first of all, Christopher Adamms was going to fuck her. Christopher was going to fuck her with his big cock until he made her hungry Negro cunt turn inside out.
Christopher was a very horny guy. He could fuck-or get sucked off-ten to fifteen times a day, many days in a row. Then, after a couple of days rest, he could do the whole thing all over again.
Christopher Adamms was perfect for his job. He worked both above and undercover, depending on the circumstances.
On this occasion, Christopher had not yet told the prostitute that he was a sexual researcher, working on a book.
Christopher Adamms wanted the prostitute to think that he was a run-of-the-mill customer, at least at first.
After he plowed her funky poontang, then he would tell her that she was his human guinea pig, an ethnically chosen member of his sample of American cunts.
"So you just want a straight fuck, is that what you said?" the woman said.
"Yeah, would you tell me your name first?" Christopher asked.
"Yeah, sure. Yvonne," the Negro prostitute responded.
"Yvonne-what?" Christopher Adamms inquired with a smile.
He still had all of his clothes on. Yvonne could not help but notice the big bulge in the crotch of his trousers.
Yvonne could tell, even before Christopher Adamms hitched down his trousers, that he was hung like a horse.
like a golden stallion.
She liked that.
After getting her pussy fucked by so many puny white men during the course of a day it was great, at last, to see a white man who had been blessed by nature.
She was pleased to see that Christopher Adamms possessed a member that could fill up her hungry poontang.
"Yvonne Craig," she said. Yvonne found herself telling the truth to the man. She was already thinking about making him a steady customer. Yvonne wanted to make sure Christopher could find her in the phone book if he were looking for her at some later date-when he was in the mood for a lay again.
"I'm Christopher," the blonde man said. His blue eyes were twinkling.
Yvonne Craig could see his cock getting larger by the second.
"Pleased to meetcha," Yvonne Craig said, tilting her head.
Christopher Adamms could feel his balls starting to ache.
"You have a lovely body, Yvonne Craig," Christopher said.
"Thanks. You are quite a hunk yourself," Yvonne said.
"I have never solicited the services of a professional before."
Yvonne Craig felt like telling the white man he was full of shit.
"There has to be a first time for everything," she responded instead.
"Yeah," Christopher said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Yvonne Craig quickly undressed and soon was every bit as naked as the day she was born.
"You going to get naked or what? Maybe you just want to chat?"
"No, no, no, I'll get undressed," Christopher said.
The truth was that Christopher was somewhat astounded by the intensity of his own masculine passion.
Christopher Adamms could feel himself getting intensely horny as he looked at the dark and naked woman.
He could tell that she was in her early twenties. Christopher Adamms could see that her body was sublime!
He had never felt this passionate while doing his research on Jewish girls, although that experience had been quite nice.
But this was extraordinary. His cock was stretching the material at the crotch of his trousers taut.
His prick felt like it was going to rip right through the crotch of his trousers at any second! He could feel the hot blood of his manly passion filling the head and shaft of his stiffening member.
Yvonne could feel herself getting very horny also. She felt that Christopher was teasing her by leaving his clothes on for so long.
This, in spite of the fact that Christopher Adamms and Yvonne Craig had been in the hotel room for less than a minute.
The black hooker could feel the hot blood of her feminine arousal pumping downward in her body, pumping toward the cocoa-colored delta between her thighs.
The pretty neighborhood hooker could feel all of the mucous membranes between her legs swelling rapidly.
The super-horny black girl could feel both her inner and outer cunt lips growing with great rapidity.
The passionate Negro girl could tell that soon her cunt would be fully engorged with the blood of her lust.
Soon, Yvonne Craig knew, her poontang was going to grow as puffy and large as nature would allow it to get.
The ebony-skinned professional could feel the glands inside her pussy starting to secrete her natural lubrication.
Christopher Adamms' latest lover could feel her inner twat wall starting to "sweat" with her acute passion.
This did not always happen to Yvonne Craig. There were times when she had to fuck without any lubrication.
Most times, as a matter-of-fact, when she was with a John, her pussy flailed to lubricate itself.
Just for that reason Yvonne always carried a tube of K-Y Jelly in her purse, for artificial lubrication.
The K-Y Jelly, Yvonne Craig knew, also came in handy if a John wanted to fuck her Greek-style. Up the ass!
Yvonne could tell that it wouldn't be long before her pussy was more than just moist because of the natural lubrication secreting from her inner cunt.
The hooker knew that soon her poontang was going to be more than just damp because of her slippery cunt juice.
The black girl knew that soon her Negro tunnel of lust was going to be SOAKING wet with her cunt juice.
Yvonne could feel her clitoris growing, along with the rest of her Negro poontang's mucous membrane tissues.
Yvonne Craig could feel that clit, that fiery bulb of womanly pleasure, getting steadily larger and harder.
The pretty neighborhood hooker could feel her little man in the boat turning into a feminine erection.
The passionate Negro girl could feel her clit pushing her clitoral foreskin up-up and out of the way.
The ebony-skinned professional could feel her love button swelling right out from under the fleshy sheath-the sheath that usually all but covered it.
Christopher Adamms' latest lover could feel her clit growing so large that it was ready to pop from the pressure.
Yvonne's clit grew so large that it more greatly resembled the head of a baby boy's cock than the focal point of her intensifying feminine cravings. The woman found that it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her lower torso still on the bed.
Yvonne Craig found that she was rocking back and forth, shifting the weight of her lower torso from one ass cheek to the other-and then back again. She could feel her natural lubrication pooling and accumulating at the base of her cunt slash, in between her protruding and slightly curled back inner cunt lips, at the mouth of her hungry fuck hole.
The pretty neighborhood hooker was gyrating her round, near perfect hips on the bed, writhing with desire.
Christopher looked into the hooker's eyes to see if she were acting. He knew that there were prostitutes in the world who were very good at their jobs without any real passion at all. These were women who deserved the Academy Award for best actress-twenty or thirty times a day for years on end.
Christopher Adamms could tell, at least he thought he could tell, that Yvonne Craig was being sincere.
He looked at her wanton expression, the need in her eyes, the puffiness of her lips (both sets), and he believed her.
Then he moved to the foot of the bed and stared in between Yvonne Craig's legs, at her chocolate colored gash.
He saw how wet the hooker's pussy was becoming, and he knew there was no way she could fake those secretions.
She was getting all worked up, there could be no doubt about that.
"You are getting hot," Christopher Adamms exclaimed.
"Sure. I'm getting hotter than a pepper sprout!" she said.
"I hadn't expected that. Not from-not from-" Christopher stopped.
"Not from a hooker?" Yvonne Craig said, completing his sentence for him, with a knowing smile.
"Yes, yes, yes, that's what I was trying to say," he said.
"You got something against a girl who enjoys her work?"
"No, not at all. I am PLEASANTLY surprised, you see."
"Good. I was hoping you wasn't one of them weird-o's. Believe it or not, there are guys in this world who get off by knowing I don't enjoy being with them."
"I believe it."
"They like to pretend that they are raping me or something. I don't understand some things," Yvonne said.
"Me neither."
"You ever fantasize about raping a woman, Christopher?"
"Nope. In my fantasies the girl is always having a VERY good time."
"I think I am going to like you," Yvonne said, her nipples hardening.
"I think I am going to like you, too, Yvonne," Christopher said.
"I want you to know something, Christopher, and you don't have to believe me if you don't want to, but I am going to say it anyway," the hooker whispered.
"What?"
"I can't remember the last time I got this horny."
"Okay if I tell you a secret in return?" Christopher said. "What?"
"Me neither," Christopher Adamms said, and they laughed together. "Get naked!" she said.
Yvonne Craig sounded, for all the world at that moment to Christopher Adamms, like a cheerleader shouting BLOCK THAT KICK!
Christopher reached down and grabbed at the brass buckle to his black leather belt. His fingers were long and thick. Yvonne had a sneaking suspicion that this wasn't the only part of his body that was long and thick.
Christopher Adamms opened up the buckle and then unbuttoned the single button that held the top of his trousers closed.
The handsome sexologist and writer then grabbed the latch to the zipper to his fly securely. He gripped with his right thumb and forefinger and pulled the zipper to his fly all the way down. His pants opened at the top.
"Ummmmmmmmmmmmm, you must be hung like a horse!" she said.
"I guess I am abnormally large," Christopher Adamms said.
"You make it sound like a big cock is unappealing."
"I have been known to scare some women with my pecker."
"You sure as hell don't have to worry about that."
"Good."
"Not with me."
"Excellent."
"I can take every inch of your cock, Christopher!"
"I was hoping you might be able to. It gets to be a drag, with smaller women, fucking with just the tip."
"I can imagine. I'll give you FULL FUCK STROKE, baby."
"Yeah!"
Christopher pushed his thumbs under the tops of his trousers until they were under the elastic at the top of his underwear as well.
His cock had grown so large that it felt trapped inside his underwear, as if it were suffocating, as if it were held prisoner inside a cloth trap through which no fresh air could pass. Christopher Adamms pulled down his trousers and his underwear simultaneously.
His cock came popping out of his pants like some kind of sexually aroused jack-in-the-box. Yvonne gasped.
The handsome sexologist and writer sighed. His cock felt as if it could breathe again. His pecker was free!
"My God!" Yvonne Craig exclaimed loudly, her eyes wide.
The pretty neighborhood hooker's eyes were so wide that the whites were visible all the way around her dark brown irises.
"What's the matter?" Christopher Adamms asked, his face partially amused and partially concerned-so that he would be ready for any response she might give.
"Your cock is huge!" Yvonne said in a stage-whisper.
"You knew that even before I whipped it out," he said.
"It is even bigger than I thought it was going to be."
"Are you frightened by it?" Christopher said. He spoke carefully. He didn't want the slightest accent of hopefulness to be in his voice when he said these words.
Christopher Adamms knew, all to well, that he had a deep, dark, inner side-a side that LIKED to scare pretty girls with the size of his tool of manhood.
"Not at all. I LOVE IT!" Yvonne said. She decided that she had better keep her mouth shut concerning her fondness for his anatomy. Once she had complimented a guy and his huge cock and balls so much that, after he and Yvonne Craig finished fucking, the well-hung man had requested a discount on her charge. The man thought, for reasons that were beyond Yvonne, that she shouldn't receive full payment if she enjoyed herself. He thought she definitely deserved less money considering the fact that he had actually made her come with his turgid ramrod of rock-hard man-beef.
Yvonne Craig did not think Christopher would be like that. But she knew it was better to be safe than sorry.
She had to assure herself that he would be a steady customer without allowing his ego to go out of control.
It was a tough job. The pretty neighborhood hooker knew that she was up to it. Christopher looked like he had some money. She figured that there might be a nice tip in it for her if she threw the handsome blonde a great fuck.
The super-horny black girl knew that she was not going to have to work very hard at all to give Christopher a great fuck.
The passionate Negro girl knew that she would just have to let nature take its course. Things would work out.
The ebony-skinned professional could feel her natural lubrication drooling from the base of her pussy.
Christopher Adamms' latest lover could feel that juice rolling over the inch-long patch of mucous membrane in between her cunt's base and her tight ass-hole.
Yvonne could tell that it was not going to be very long-no, not very long at all-before her natural lubrication began to make a wet spot on the hotel room bedspread. Yvonne Craig did not care.
The pretty hooker knew she didn't have to do the laundry.
Yvonne could smell the scent of her cunt wafting up from between her legs toward her flaring Negro nostrils.
Yvonne Craig had known ever since she was a little girl that she simply LOVED the smell of her own cunt.
She was so funky.
So animalistic.
She smelled like a bitch in heat.
There was something oddly satisfying for Yvonne Craig about sniffing her own passionate cunt aroma!
The super-horny black girl could not take her eyes off of Christopher's cock. She could see that his pecker was easily ten inches long. She figured that his pecker was close to ten and a half inches long.
The passionate Negro girl, however, was more amazed by the thickness of Christopher Adamms' member than by the length. She could never remember seeing a cock on a white man with that kind of girth.
Christopher Adamms' latest lover could see that the blonde man's cock was thicker than one of her wrists.
The prone prostitute could see that the man's dick was close to being as thick as both of her wrists put together.
Yvonne could see that Christopher's cock was thickest at the head, which was shaped like a mushroom cap.
Yvonne Craig thought that Christopher's pecker head was shaped like a purple doorknob, or a grossly overgrown acorn.
The super-horny black girl thought that Christopher Adamms' cock head was shaped like the sort of acorn from which mighty oak trees grow. She was astounded.
Amazed.
Flabbergasted.
The black girl could see that the head had turned a deep purple color-almost a blue-black hue-because of the thorough engorgement Christopher was experiencing down there at the top of his rod.
The Negro hooker could see that the skin covering the head of his cock was stretched thin and smooth.
She could see that the cock was so swollen-especially at the head-that it looked as if it would explode if another single drop of blood tried to pump its way inside.
The black girl found herself looking at the little hole at the very tip of Christopher's pecker.
This was the hole through which both Christopher Adamms' golden urine and silver seed emerged violently.
Yvonne could see that there were swollen little lips on either side of Christopher's cute piss hole.
The black-hooker thought that those tiny lips made the urethra look very much like a small mouth.
The Negro prostitute thought the hole looked like a toothless mouth. Yvonne Craig almost giggled.
The black-skinned streetwalker could see Christopher Adamms' piss hole opening and closing rhythmically.
The ebony whore thought the tiny mouth looked as if it were trying in vain to sing aloud with its desire.
The kinky-haired professional fucker could see that the shaft of Christopher's cock was skinnier than the head.
The pretty neighborhood hooker could see that the stem was a slightly lighter shade of purple too.
Yvonne noticed, however, that these differences between the head and shaft of the cock were not great ones.
Yvonne Craig could see also that the shaft of Christopher Adamms' took of manhood was every bit as hard as the head.
It was as hard as rock. It was as hard as real granite.
It was as hard as a pillar of marble, Yvonne thought.
Christopher's cock was sticking out straight in front of his masculinely sloped loins, like an arrow.
Christopher Adamms' cock was sticking out straight from his underbelly, like a good soldier-standing at attention.
The handsome sexologist and writer's dick was bobbing up and down in front of him with great anxiousness.
Yvonne could see that the tip of Christopher's cock was snapping upward, higher and higher, closer and closer to the flat plane of the white man's belly.
Yvonne Craig could see that the tip of Christopher's cock was aiming for a place several inches above his bellybutton, thus giving her a concrete perspective of just low long that dong really was.
The black girl could see that the tip of Christopher's cock came closer and closer to his tummy, but that direct contact with his belly was never made.
The Negro hooker expected his cock to start violently slapping his own stomach at any second-but this never happened.
Christopher Adamms' member was bobbing up and down as if attached to his loins at the base by a tightly-sprung hinge.
Because of the way his cock head was snapping upward, like a catapult, Yvonne found herself looking predominantly at the underside of his thick stem.
Yvonne Craig could see that his cock shaft, at least on the underside, was lined with dilated blue veins.
She could see that those veins were sticking out from what would have been an otherwise smooth tube of flesh.
The veins were making Christopher's cock shaft look craggy.
Gnarled.
Angry.
Yvonne thought that Christopher Adamms' member certainly looked a hell of a lot more like an angry weapon than it did like an instrument of love-making.
What amazed Yvonne Craig was that there was something about this aspect of Christopher's cock's appearance that greatly appealed to herturned her on!
The pretty neighborhood hooker lowered her eyes and found herself looking at the sack that held his balls.
His scrotum.
Christopher Adamms' balls, like his cock, were the largest Yvonne Craig had ever seen on a white man.
The handsome sexologist and writer's nuts, Yvonne Craig could see, were the size of golf balls!
The well-hung ethnic-sexual researcher's testicles, the black hooker noticed, were shaped like chicken eggs.
The well-hung ethnic-sexual researcher's twin glands of masculinity felt swollen to thrice their normal size.
This, however, was sensual hyperbole being created by Christopher Adamms' libidinous nervous-system.
His balls were not really as swollen as they felt.
Yvonne Craig could see that Christopher's balls were resting very heavily at the base of his scrotum.
The pretty neighborhood hooker could see that his scrotal sack appeared filled to the brim with come.
The passionate Negro girl could see that Christopher's scrotum appeared ready to overflow with come.
Judging solely on the look of the man's sack, Yvonne would have thought he had not come in about a month.
Judging, however, from Christopher Adamms' handsome face and hunky body, Yvonne figured this was not true.
But who knew?
For all Yvonne knew the man might have been out of commission for a month or so with a physical or psychological problem.
Just because he looked like a stud did not mean that Christopher Adamms felt like a stud, Yvonne Craig knew.
All hookers become head-shrinkers after awhile. She knew that one could not judge a book by their cover.
Some of the biggest and handsomest men she had fucked had been plagued by near-desperate insecurities.
On the other hand some of the plainest and smallest of her customers had turned out to be great lovers, simply because they lacked these self-induced insecurities.
All else equal, it was true that Yvonne Craig preferred her cocks BIG-but only if the lover behind the cock knew what he was doing.
The pretty neighborhood hooker would have chosen a good lover with a small cock over a bad lover with a big cock any day.
She was feeling good, but she told herself that she not forget the jury was still out on this hunky blonde.
Christopher got his pants and his underwear all the way down to his ankles before he realized he had forgotten to remove his shoes and socks.
Christopher Adamms sat on the foot of the bed and removed his shoes and then his socks. He pulled both his trousers and his underwear off over his feet simultaneously. Christopher could feel Yvonne's toes running up and down his back, on either side of his backbone, kneading at the muscles in between his extraordinarily broad shoulder blades.
What would she think when she found out he was taking mental notes, fucking her for a research project? Christopher Adamms wondered. This problem had come up before. He feared he would bias his sample irrevocably if he told all lovers immediately that they were human guinea pigs. Christopher wanted to see Yvonne Craig behave normally, not as if she were being graded on her sexual skill.
Still, it always made Christopher nervous to fuck women under false pretenses, even on this occasion when he planned on shelling out cold hard cash for the fuck.
Christopher Adamms unbuttoned his shirt and removed it over his shoulders. He tossed the shirt aside carelessly, without even bothering to turn his head and see where it landed.
Yvonne, however, found her eyes involuntarily following the flight of his suddenly crumpled shirt, as it was tossed into the far corner of the hotel room, into the corner furthest from the door that led to the hallway.
They were in Room Six Sixty-Nine. That had struck Christopher Adamms as symbolically appropriate, but he did not mention this to the black girl, out of fear that she would not get the joke.
Little did Christopher Adamms know that Yvonne Craig was amused for precisely the same reason the instant she saw the number on the plastic thing that was attached to the hotel key.
The handsome sexologist and writer was as naked as she.
He turned to face her.
Christopher once again stared in between Yvonne's thighs, at her swollen and juicy poontang slash.
Christopher Adamms could see her natural lubrication dripping out of the base of her pussy in a steady flow.
The handsome sexologist and writer thought that juice looked like so many melted pearls as it oozed from her poontang, from her oozing cooze, from her quivering quim.
Yvonne's clitoris felt so swollen by this time that she thought it was going to come popping right out of its little nest at the top of her slash.
Yvonne Craig's little man in the boat-which was no longer so little-felt like it was going to explode at any second from the internal pressure she was experiencing down there.
The pretty neighborhood hooker's love button was practically demanding to be stimulated. The man climbed onto the bed, right on top of the black hooker.
Christopher could feel her fine tits against his chest.
There was a moment when he had the full weight of his huge upper torso pressing down on her. He was pressing her tits flat.
Christopher could feel her nipples throbbing against him.
Christopher Adamms' chest was so heavy upon the woman that she found it impossible to fill her lungs with air.
Yvonne communicated her problem to Christopher efficiently by pushing at his broad shoulders a little with tiny black hands.
The well-hung ethnic-sexual researcher could feel the entire length of his cock being pinned between their bellies.
The passionate Negro girl could feel the tip of his cock throbbing in between her bellybutton and her tits.
The ebony-skinned professional could feel the base of his cock pulsating against the base of her furry mound.
Christopher Adamms' latest lover knew just how far the handsome man's cock was going to have to push into her lower belly before her inner cunt lips would have the honor of gripping his fleshy sword at the hilt.
Yvonne Craig knew that she would feel IMPALED by his cock. She knew that she would feel run-through like the black and white loser in an ancient cinematic swordfight.
The black girl contemplated how far her inner cunt lips were going to have to open to take just the head of his cock.
The Negro hooker knew that her pussy's mucous membranes were going to have to stretch as far as they could possibly go in every possible direction to accommodate the bulk of Christopher's pecker. She was looking forward to the sexual challenge, you bet.
Christopher had his long legs kicked out behind him toward the foot of the bed. For a moment he was resting on the tops of his feet and his hairy knees.
Christopher Adamms' ankles and knees were close together.
The handsome sexologist and writer then, sensing that Yvonne Craig was having difficulty breathing properly, placed the palms of his hands flat on the bed with his fingers slightly parted. As Yvonne had her head resting on a pillow, Christopher had to tuck his fingertips underneath that soft foam rubber pillow to do this. He pushed down with his palms and lifted his upper torso a few inches.
Christopher lifted his chest so that only her nipples were touching him, both his chest and his chest hair.
Christopher Adamms lifted so that Yvonne Craig's knockers were allowed to return to their natural shape.
The pretty neighborhood hooker was pleased to find that she could once again completely fill her lungs with air.
The handsome sexologist and writer kicked up onto his toes and lifted his loins a bit. His balls lifted away from the mouth of Yvonne's fuck hole.
The well-hung ethnic-sexual researcher looked as if he were about to do a series of push-ups on top of the black hooker.
In a sense, he was.
The base of his pecker lifted away from the kinky black hair that covered Yvonne Craig's sloping mound.
Only the tip of his cock was touching her, now throbbing half way in between her bush and her navel.
He continued to press downward with the palms of his hand and he arched his back rather sharply, so that even her nipples were no longer touching his chest.
Every once in a while Yvonne Craig could feel his chest airs grazing the feminine erections at the tips of her tits, but that was about it.
Christopher then supported the weight of his upper torso with his left hand exclusively. He reached back with his right hand and made a tight fist around the base of his cock shaft-gripping so tightly that each and every one of his right knuckles were momentarily whitened by the tension he exerted.
Christopher squeezed the stem of his meat loaf three times, just to make sure he was as hard and thick as possible.
Christopher had nothing to worry about in the boner department, there could be no doubt about that.
Christopher's erection was full-fledged. Yvonne could tell just by looking at Christopher's manly pole that it was hard as diamond.
The handsome sexologist and writer, in truth, only squeezed his cock twice experimentally. The third squeeze was purely masturbatory in nature. He did it just because it felt so motherfucking good!
Then Christopher used his right hand to guide the tip of his cock to the moist slash in between her legs.
The head of Christopher's cock was so hypersensitive that her pubic hairs felt as rough as steel wool on the stretched skin covering it, and every rougher than that against the swollen little lips on either side of his opening and closing urethra.
The very tip of Christopher's cock touched the black hooker's clitoris-and they both jerked with the mutual pleasure they shared at that moment. Yes, Yvonne thought this felt very good-but it was no longer what she wanted most of all.
Yvonne Craig could feel her clitoris's role as the focal point of her womanly desire being usurped momentarily-no doubt by the knowledge that she was about to have her pussy plowed by Christopher Adamms' ten and a half inch manpole.
The pretty neighborhood hooker could feel the focal point of her desire shifting to a new magic spot, a spot deep inside her pussy, as her love button was reduced to a secondary erogenous zone.
The super-horny black girl could feel the new spot of sexual itch forming on the upper roof n: her inner cunt.
The new spot, Yvonne Craig could feel, very close to her dimpled cervix-to the mouth of her womb.
Christopher ran the tip of his cock down the entire length of her cunt slash. J this for several reasons.
For one thing, it felt VERY good for both of them.
But-more importantly-Christopher Adamms knew that the initial penetration of her cunt would be easier for them both if both his pole and her hole were wet and slippery with Yvonne Craig's natural lubrication.
He then moved his cock head to the base of Yvonne Craig's poontang slash. Chris wiggled his ass cheeks from side to side a little bit, working the tip of his pecker in between the curled back outer edges of her inner cunt lips. He had his bulbous purple cock head poised at the mouth of her fuck hole.
"I need your cock inside me so badly, Christopher. "
"Your pussy flesh feels so good against my cock head."
"I want you to fill me-chock full-with your cock."
"I want to feel your cunt sucking my pecker off!"
"I want to feel you filling me to the brim with meat."
"I want to feel your cunt stretching to hold me."
"I want to feel you push into my soft underbelly."
"I want to feel your inner cunt stroking my pole."
"I want to feel you plowing the core of my womanhood."
"I want to feel my come boil with my passion, baby."
"I want to feel you driving pleasure into my twat."
"I can smell your cunt, Yvonne. It fills my sinuse-"
"Do you like the way my cunt smells, Christopher?"
"I love it. It is making my brain spin with lust."
"Can you feel the scent of my pussy intoxicating you?"
"Yes. I am getting drunk with my-with my passion."
"You are going to make me come with that cock, lover."
"I hope so. But don't fake it. I can't stand phonies."
"I won't have to fake it. Not this time, Christopher. "
"I hope I can fuck so for long enough to make you come."
"I think I have a hair trigger when it comes to orgasms."
"Is that true always, or is that true just this time?"
"Just this time, Christopher, just this time, baby."
Christopher could feel his intense passion having an acute effect on his respiratory system. He could feel and hear his breaths getting shorter and closer together.
Christopher Adamms realized that he was panting-panting just like a wild jungle beast-just like the wild animal he wanted so badly to become.
The handsome sexologist and writer knew that it wouldn't be long before he was breathing so hard and so fast that he would sound and feel as if he were purposefully attempting to hyperventilate himself.
The well-hung ethnic-sexual researcher could already feel his entire body becoming slick with sweat.
The intensely attractive young white man knew that this was the steamy perspiration of sexual excitement that was oozing from each and every pore on his body.
Yvonne could feel her heartbeat being affected by the intensity of her unexpected passion. Her heart was racing.
Yvonne Craig could tell that soon her heart was going to feel ready to beat right out of her chest.
The pretty neighborhood hooker could feel her breathing being affected by her lust, just like Christopher's.
The super-horny black girl could feel her breathing becoming ragged, as if she had suddenly been afflicted with a severe case of asthma or something.
The passionate Negro girl had her legs spread open as far as she could get them. She could feel the muscles at the insides of her thighs stretching taut.
The passionate Negro girl had the balls and soles of her feet flat on the hotel room bedspread. Her knees were up in the air, and she had her thighs parted first to a perfect ninety-degree angle, and then past a right angle to an obtuse angle.
The ebony-skinned professional unsuccessfully attempted to open her finely tapered thighs to a straight angle-so that she could point her knees at opposite walls of the hotel room. Still, the hooker managed to get her thighs so far open that her pussy lips and the cheeks of her ass had opened with them.
Christopher Adamms' latest lover squeezed at the sides of Christopher Adamms' masculinely narrow hips with the insides of her womanly black thighs snugly.
The handsome sexologist and writer then adjusted the lower part of her torso, moving his hips back about three inches.
The well-hung ethnic-sexual researcher wanted the shaft of his cock at the appropriate angle for deep-vaginal penetration.
The intensely attractive young white man then tensed the muscles in the cheeks of his ass, and he pressed his smallish buttocks together as tightly as they would go.
Christopher had his as cheeks hardened as he tensed the muscles in them. They were as hard as his cock.
Yvonne Craig ran her hands for a moment over Christopher Adamms' tensed ass cheeks. She was thrilled with how firm they had become.
Yvonne Craig could tell that Christopher Adamms had pressed his ass cheeks together so tightly that the world's strongest man would not have been able to pry them apart even if he were allowed to use a crow bar.
"Give it to me," the pretty black hooker exclaimed.
"Here we go. You want to be fucked softly?" Christopher asked. "No."
"You want to be fucked hard?" Christopher inquired. "Yes."
"Do you want to be fucked slowly?" Christopher asked. "No."
"Do you want to be fucked fast?" Christopher asked.
"Yes. I want to be fucked as fast as you can fuck."
"Okay."
"I want you to fuck me so fast that your ass cheeks will be a blur."
"You got it."
With that Christopher began to push downward with his lower torso, with the tensed muscles in the cheeks of his ass.
Yvonne Craig concentrated on relaxing the muscles at the sides of her pussy-keeping in mind that her cunt lips were going to have to open as far as they could go to accommodate the girth of his dick.
The pretty neighborhood hooker found that this was remarkably easy for her to do. Yvonne's pussy relaxed itself. She had not been very tense in the first place.
Yvonne began to push upward with her own lower torso, so that their loins were pushing toward one another.
Christopher Adamms and Yvonne Craig knew that they were not going to stop pushing until their loins met.
Only a couple of seconds passed between the time when he started pushing and the time when she began to open.
"Stretch me! Turn my cunt into a gaping mouth, Christopher!"
"Ooooooooooh, your pussy-your pussy is so tight!"
"I can feel my cunt lips stretching, they are taut!"
"Ooooooooooh, I can feel my cock head pushing inside you."
Yvonne Craig's cunt felt as if it had been opened as far as it could go. Her pussy lips felt like a rubber band that had been stretched to the snapping point. Even in retrospect Yvonne Craig believed that her cunt would have torn wide open if his prick had been a millimeter or two greater in girth.
The pretty neighborhood hooker could feel her inner cunt lips gripping at the ring of scar tissue at the top of his cock shaft, just below the lower rim of Christopher Adamms' bulbous purple cock head.
The super-horny black girl could feel the tip of his cock pushing into her a fraction of an inch at a time. This was partially out of necessity because of the girth of his prick. She could tell that Christopher was afraid of hurting her, as he had no doubt hurt so many other woman by entering their cunts too quickly.
Still, each fraction of an inch of penetration brought the Negro woman's cervix closer to his glans.
Each millimeter of penetration brought the tip of Christopher Adamms' pecker closer to the mouth of her womb.
Yvonne Craig could tell, in spite of all of this, that Christopher was entering her more slowly than he had to .
The pretty neighborhood hooker correctly assumed that the man wanted to make his own pleasure linger, and the only way he could do that was do everything slowly.
The super-horny black girl could tell that the second she felt a sudden quickening of Christopher Adamms' movements, his orgasm was not going to be far behind.
The passionate Negro girl then felt the tip of his cock strike the magic focal point of her deep-vaginal cravings.
"OHHHHHHHH!" Yvonne Craig yelled. Her voice was shrill.
"Ummmmmmmmm, did I touch that special nerve?" he asked.
"I can feel you scratching the magic itch," she said.
"And where is that magic itch?" Christopher asked.
"It feels like it is behind my bellybutton," she said.
"I see," Christopher said with an amused smile on his lips.
Yvonne could feel the tip of Christopher Adamms' cock touching the rear wall of her inner cunt.
This sensation was both a little thrilling and a little frightening for the young ebony-skinned streetwalker.
She could feel her pussy being filled to the brim with cock meat-just as she hoped it would. Her pussy felt like it already was stretched as far as it could go in every possible direction.
The thing that was frightening Yvonne Craig was that she knew there were still several inches of cock meat at the base of Christopher Adamms' cock shaft remaining to be inserted. She felt as if the tip of Christopher's cock were about to touch her in places where she had never been touched before. Yvonne Craig felt as if Christopher Adamms' cock were about to touch her in places that she did not even know she had-places the streetwalker would have sworn up and down could not be reached from the outside unless she had felt that direct contact for herself.
Christopher huffed and puffed and pushed until he had done it, until the penetration of the hooker's Negro cunt was complete, until her inner cunt lips had the honor of gripping his cock meat at the base. She could feel his balls resting on her ass-hole. She was squeezing a little bit tighter than before at the sides of his masculinely narrow hips with the insides of her thighs.
Yvonne Craig expected Christopher to start his natural in and out fucking motion immediately, once the violation of her fuck hole had been completed.
But Christopher Adamms had other ideas on the subject.
The handsome sexologist and writer continued to press downward with his lower torso in spite of the fact that his cock was already all the way inside her.
This created the illusion within Yvonne Craig's pussy, indeed within her entire nervous-system, that his cock head was sinking even deeper into the soft internal tissues of the Negro prostitute's underbelly.
The black girl lifted her feet right up off the bedspread. She pointed her toes at the hotel ceiling.
The Negro hooker never loosened her grip on the sides of Christopher Adamms' hips with her thighs as she did this.
The ebony-skinned prostitute straightened her knees and created a perfect "vee" with her shapely gams.
The black-skinned streetwalker then turned her toes inward.
She crossed her ankles.
She lowered her heels-which Christopher Adamms noticed were much lighter than the tops of her feet-down to the small of his back. Yvonne Craig placed her rather rough ankles at the small of the white man's back, just above the y-shaped cleft at the top of the crack of his ass, almost directly on top of the cute little twin dimples that indicated the location of Christopher Adamms' kidneys.
"Please," Yvonne Craig said, in a very low, soft voice.
"What?" Christopher Adamms asked, lowering his head.
"Ohhhhhhhh, please," Yvonne Craig repeated, in a whisper.
"Please what?" Christopher said, his lips close to her ear.
"Please FUCK ME!" Yvonne Craig said. She was begging him for it.
"Okay, baby, in just a second," Christopher exclaimed.
"You are such a motherfucking tease!" Yvonne Craig said.
"You got it, baby," Christopher Adamms said with a laugh.
"I am on the edge of coming and you haven't even started fucking yet," Yvonne Craig said, her voice shrill.
"Easy, baby, easy does it, that's the ticket," he said.
He began to gyrate his hips, grinding his pubic patch flat against hers. The coloring was in direct contrast.
He was fair.
She was black.
He was ivory.
She was ebony.
His pubies were the color of gold. Hers, were the color of tar.
He moved his lower torso in slow sensuous circles, so that the head and the shaft of his humongous meat loaf stretched the black hooker's inner cunt lips and the inner walls of her pussy in every possible direction. Then, after what seemed to the Negro girl like an eternity, Christopher began to pull upward with his ass cheeks, which were every bit as tensed as they had been when he was penetrating her. To the black hooker's dismay, Christopher pulled upward with his lower torso every bit as slowly as he had originally violated her. The Negro prostitute could feel her inner cunt lips being stretched up and away from the rest of her female crotch. The flesh was tugging taut. She could tell that the shaft of Christopher's cock was so thick that the top of that fleshy stalk was going to rub directly against her little man in the boat when he got around to fucking her proper.
Yvonne Craig could tell that it would not be very long at all before Christopher Adamms' cock shaft was battering her little man in the boat back and forth violently-just as if it were a small punching bag being worked over rhythmically by a particularly talented boxer during a vigorous work-out.