The sound of mewing and slurping from the back of the basement caught Brian's attention. It came from behind a sheet that'd been rigged on a clothesline. Approaching stealthily, Brian pushed one edge to the side and peeked in. There, enthusiastically sucking a hard black dick, knelt Heather Winslow, Kate's 18-year-old stepdaughter! She'd gotten her daughter involved in this black orgy? Shocked, though not enough to leave, Brian watched as the girl did her best to cram the thick cock into her small mouth. Though obviously not too inexperienced, her bumbling efforts soon annoyed the man, who pushed her to the floor and then crouched between her legs. As he got ready to split her slit, she brazenly gazed up at Brian, pulling on her tiny tits and bouncing her tight ass off the ground. Her cocky smile disappeared momentarily when the man slashed into her, grinding his cock in to the hilt. Gasping at the brutal intrusion, she had no more time to flirt with Brian and occupied herself with enjoying the thick monster currently rubbing her cunt raw. Staked to the floor by a huge black pole, she could only squirm around, squealing with delight every time he pulled it out and shoved it back in. As petite as she was, Brian wondered how much more she could take. Just then she twisted her body to bring her legs up between them, exposing all of her cunt to the pile-driver above her. Now the man could reach her innermost depths, and she panted with the pleasure and effort. As he turned to leave, she pursed her lips and blew him a kiss, before turning back to concentrate on the next violet thrust.

Heather Winslow? Brian shook his head as he climbed the stairs. He'd watched the girl grow into a little heartbreaker, shedding her baby fat to reveal smooth hips, a nice ass and small though succulent tits. Obviously she took after her mother, with the attitude that men would do anything to get between her legs. Brian decided to head for the master bedroom in search of the stacked but flighty step-mom Winslow.

He found Mrs. Winslow not in the bedroom but in the master bath, partaking of some black meat with the man who owned Lord Boa. Though he'd never actually met the man, this was the guy he'd caught fucking his wife so many months ago. He still didn't know the man's name, but he knew the name of the ten-inch, wrist-thick black appendage between his legs: Lord Boa. Named after the snake and just as powerful, Lord Boa was the one cock that all these women dreamed about, and that all were willing to lie, cheat and steal to get their hands on. Kate Winslow, as hostess, evidently got Lord Boa all to herself for the day. Not that it meant anything. The man behind the snake held all the cards. And all her attention.

Standing in a suds-filled bathtub, Kate was bent at the waist, her mouth stretched over the massive crown while the man held her upright. They'd evidently just finished a long and taxing blowjob, as both were covered in sweat, and Kate's entire body trembled from the effort. Sparing no more than a glance his way, the man led Kate past Brian and into the bedroom. Collapsing on the bed, he pulled his big-titted prize to the mattress, kissing her wetly while he fondled her boobs and pussy. Putting one hand around his wicked shaft, she pumped and stroked it, her fingers covering no more than a third of his length. Panting and gasping, she begged him to put it inside her. When he finally did, it took many long seconds for his snake to disappear all the way into her hole. Her animal cry lasted the entire time.

As with the other women, Brian tried to commit to memory the many details of the hot sex playing out before him. Her hooded, lust-filled eyes. The way she sounded as she begged to be fucked. The shudders and tremors coursing through her double-d tits. The tempting color of her hard nipples. The shivers of her stomach as small orgasms pelted her. The harsh contrast between his ebony skin and her pale skin. The size, shape and color of her cunt. And the sight of such a fat, black snake sliding in and out of her, sucking out her juices with each noisy stroke, until both were covered in a sparkling sheen of cunt nectar.

He took it all in, not embarrassed to be staring, not caring about looking cool or detached. He stared fascinated, understanding for the first time the addiction he was up against. Kate Winslow had everything a big-titted, slow-witted bimbo could want. A big house, expensive cars, long vacations, social status, and a husband who probably rarely called on her to spread her legs for him. And probably never asked her to engage in anything really kinky. When he died, she'd inherit millions. But if he caught her at this, and divorced her, the pre-nup limited her to less than 200 grand. This he knew as a fact, straight from Paul's lips at a New Years Eve party. If she was risking all that just for some big, black cock, what could he offer to keep Debbi in line?

He turned away in dismay. He needed someplace to sit and collect his thoughts. Heading into the hallway he staggered against the wall and almost fell. He felt dizzy, light-headed. His cock ached, so stiff it was painful. Was the stress, and the blood loss, actually affecting his mind? He needed to find a couch to sit down and gather his wits. He turned left into the library. There a woman he didn't know lay spread eagle, taking it in her slit from a blond, white guy with an enormously thick dick. Her eyes looked vacant, as if in a trance. Only the way she squeezed her fingernails into her palms revealed the pleasure, or pain, she was experiencing. He spun out, turning next into another bathroom, where he encountered Margo Brown dripping in cum, courtesy of a massive ejaculation from the black cock she was now licking clean. She looked dirty, disgusting, tawdry.

He staggered away. In room after room he saw white women - his friends' wives, PTA mothers, Girl Scout leaders - cavorting, pandering and begging for a thick black cock to fulfill their needs, to push the pleasure buttons buried deep inside their cunts. They were slut wives of the cheapest and filthiest sort. Where the slut wives he'd read about might share their obsession with their husbands, who were in on their plans, these women snuck around, deceiving their families and themselves. They had no self-control. They'd given up their dignity and respect in search of a simple physical pleasure. He stuck his head in room after room, nearly running now, searching for Debbi. He needed to get her out of this place, away from this madness.

The ordered civility of the earlier couplings had broken down. In one room he found two black men banging away at a petite woman, one pinning her from above and one thrusting into her mouth. In another room two women licked and sucked a single black snake, fighting over and then sharing the cum oozing from its tip. In the master bedroom Kate Winslow lay spread-eagle on the bed while another woman sucked on her clit, who in turn was receiving a good fucking from another long black stick. It was the first real sign of lesbianism, though probably not the only one. Women were now staggering from room to room; unabashedly naked, cum-covered and exhausted. They gazed at him with eyes both wild and dull. Two women groped his crotch as he passed. He twisted away and strode on.