Keywords: Nights, Ch., Ebony, 2,
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Cara's urge for black cock became insatiable as the weeks passed by. Thanks to her husband never missing a day of work she had now been with over 30 different men, still finishing each night up with what were now getting to be marathon blowjobs. The men would be begging for relief from her talented mouth but she controlled the action.
The feel of a hot black cock pulsating in her mouth on the verge of erupting when she was ready was an intoxicating form of power to her. But while they would be left on the verge of coming for what seemed like hours, she never disappointed. It may have seemed intensely agonizing for them, but she would, at the right moment, force feed the agitated black cocks into her mouth and suck every last bit of hot cum from them.
This night started no different than any other. Cara showered and began to prepare for another evening of fucking and sucking. The men in the neighborhood she would visit were getting to know her well. She still didn't want names, nor did she want the same man twice, yet it was almost becoming to routine for her.
Her wardrobe expanded over the weeks, but still, short skirts to accentuate her long legs, pumps of different colors to match the skirts, or sometimes the silky see-through blouses she wore, and of course the bright red lipstick on her full lips were becoming the trademark of her appeal. "Cocksucer lips" she remembered one of the men saying. Looking at her full lips in the mirror, yeah, she thought to herself-cocksucker lips! She loved the thought.
Cara wrapped a towel around her blonde hair and started to dress. She was becoming more daring with the men she met and more selective, but still, she would flirt with many of them each evening before making her choice. They all wanted her and why not she thought. The tall slender body covered only by a mini-skirt and the see-through material of the soft lace or silk blouses she wore left little to the imagination just as she intended.
Emotionally she may have been changing but nothing about her physically had changed over the weeks. The 5-9 blonde-haired beauty was still 120 pounds. Her firm, pert breasts with their nipples trying to rip through the thin material she wore when she went out on the prowl were almost the only lure she needed.
Yet, it was more likely the long curly blonde hair that flowed over her shoulders and creamy white skin that drove these black men wild with desire. Besides, she was sure they knew all about her by now and it didn't bother her. They had to know the lucky guy she picked would get at least two blowjobs, fuck her bare pussy or maybe even that pear-shaped, white little ass that swayed so sensually as she moved about confidently.
She had little doubt they probably thought of her as slut, but even the thought of that excited her. Looking in the mirror, she pinched one of her nipples thinking of the next black cock that would push over her full, red lips into her mouth to shoot a load deep inside that she would savor and then swallow or a stream of hot cum shooting from a cock buried to the hilt in her pussy or ass.
The combination of her thoughts and the pinching made her nipple hard with excitement. She moved her other hand down her body over her firm, flat stomach and down further still to her wet pussy.
Her fingers moved gingerly inside as she thought about the blood roaring through the veins of a black cock buried in her mouth and later in her hot, wet pussy. Her little white, hairless pussy was on fire now. She heard herself start to moan quietly in the bathroom as she finger-fucked herself more rapidly now.
It was the moan that brought her out of her fanciful dream and back to reality. No time for this now. It was time to get ready to leave. She felt in control of everything except one thing-time. No matter what happened, she always knew in the back of her mind her husband would get off work at seven in the morning.
There was always plenty of time and she loved what she was doing, but all of sudden, just like with her husband, something seemed to be lacking. Just as the desire and excitement had gone out of their marriage, her desire for more excitement was growing stronger with each passing night. For a brief moment she thought to herself maybe it wasn't her husband's lack of enthusiasm but her own unquenchable lust that was the real problem. Maybe it was, but it didn't matter anymore. She wanted more and tonight she thought, yes tonight, she would get more.
Cara rushed to get ready. She looked through her new and growing wardrobe. She couldn't believe her husband hadn't noticed any of the new clothes she had been buying. Certainly, she thought, he should have easily seen the thigh high black boots that zipped up the sides with their six-inch stiletto heels, or for that matter, her new collection of high stiletto heeled pumps. Or even the outfits that looked like nothing more than sexy lingerie. If he did notice, he hadn't said a word.
For tonight she chose a snug bodystocking that clung to her body. The advertised color was "bare" but really it was more of a skin-toned color. The top was low cut and her perky tits pushed up exposing her cleavage. She draped a dark, but thin metal belt around her waist which fell to her hips giving more definition to the curves of her body.
She had struggled to get the skin-tight outfit on. Without a bra or panties, not only did the outfit hug her body, but the lower part was so tight the material actually pulled into her crotch revealing the line of the small crack of her shaved pussy.
Normally she liked to expose her long legs the men at the bars had come to admire, but now they knew her and certainly had to know those long creamy legs and muscular thighs by now. This outfit just looked, and made her feel, sexy. A pair of black pumps with six-inch long stiletto heels completed the outfit that had "FUCK ME" written all over it.
She gazed in the mirror as she fixed her hair, the long curly, blonde hair falling over her shoulders. Another dab of red lipstick to match her nipples fighting to poke through the material tightly caressing her curvy body. She knew most women used to lipstick to highlight or complement something they wore or maybe their fingernails. She found it strange to use it match her hard nipples pressing hard against the thin material. The whole ensemble created the illusion of nudity on parade!
Before leaving she took one last look at herself in the full-length mirror adorning the back of the bathroom door. With the heels, she was over six-foot tall and looked statuesque. Every curve of her body was visible and if the bodystocking she had picked had been the exact color of her skin it would be as though she nothing on; not only every curve of her body so evident, but also the bareness of her body underneath the clothing was too.
Walking out to the car, a sashay in her step, she wondered if any of the neighbors were peering out looking at her. She knew there was a certain sassiness to her look; the look of a brazen hooker in this upscale neighborhood would be out of place and, for where she going, probably true there also.
She drove at a leisurely pace through the city. She still wasn't sure what the night would bring, but she knew she wanted something different. Cara had hit all of the bars in her new "neigborhood". She picked the one that she had found in the past to be the most seedy. She had been there once before and didn't feel uncomfortable. In fact, after that first week, she never felt unsafe and there was no reason to feel that way now.
The feeling of safety changed momentarily when she parked her car and started walking to the bar. A man, one she thought she had seen before, approached her as she moved across the parking lot. Not a particularly big man, at least in height. Maybe about 5-7 although he probably easily went 230 pounds.
He was dressed almost in rags and he appeared dirty. Old blue jeans, somewhat tattered and faded, muddy work boots and a white t-shirt spattered with brown spots. He wasn't a very good-looking man.
His skin was dark brown and his head was shaved bald but his face was unshaven. He looked to her as though he had had his nose broken at least once during what she believed had been a rough and turbulent life. What really struck her most though was his angry, black eyes that seemed to cut right through her.
"So, bitch, you back again for more I see," he snapped. There was an angry tone to his voice. She ignored him and kept walking not letting him know that for the first time she felt a tinge, maybe more than that, of fear.
"Hey, you white slut, I'm talking to you!" he said, his voice louder now. "How come you always ignore me!" he demanded to know.
"I'm...I'm sorry," she answered, almost meekly. "I guess I've never noticed you before," she said, pretty sure she was lying. "Maybe one of these times, but tonight I'm meeting somebody," she said, this time knowing she was lying.
She had kept walking hoping he didn't follow her in. If he did, he would know immediatley she was lying about meeting someone. She opened the door to walk in and thankfully, he didn't follow her in the bar, at least not immediately.
Her heart was racing as she quickly walked up to the bar to order a drink and looked around for a familiar or friendly face. She saw one man that seemed to fill the bill and immediately headed for him.
"How are you doing tonight?" she asked him, not knowing his name. Now all of a sudden she wished she had asked their names in the past. Maybe they would feel closer to her, maybe just a bit more protective. All she was, she thought, was a piece of white meat; a white, trashy slut from a better part of town most of them had probably only heard about but few had ever been to.
"Doing fine," he answered. He sounded upbeat and friendly. "I'm here with my dad tonight if you can believe it. The old man's taking a piss right now."
"Well, I'd like to meet him." Great she thought, if that guy came in and saw her he would have to believe she didn't lie, that she really was meeting someone.
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Keywords: Nights, Ch., Ebony, 2,