Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Housewives of Coxville County By; Ota & The Ogre
   The crowd went into uproar as the basketball fell through the white
netting of the rim, a loud burst of sporadic cheers on the left side of the
gymnasium where fans of the Coxville basketball team sat.  Yet another
three-pointer had been aimed, shot, and stuffed right through the open net
in an audible swish.  The game was quickly turning into a blow out for
Coxville's cross-town rivals from Bartown.  The baying cheers of the
Coxville crowd all but drowned out the low groans from across the way,
their competitors, who slumped, cursed, spat, and shook their heads in
mixed distress and partial disbelief as they looked up at the lit
scoreboard.  Home- 18, Guests- 4.  It was beyond disheartening.  Barely
into the second quarter and the visiting team's morale were smashed all but
to shards.  It was late November, and ever since Bartown's football team,
the Beavers, - suffered their loss to the Coxville Cocks with a score of 14
to 8 in the previous football season - it seemed that Bartown had since
been suffering from a steady string of bad luck in all their athletic
endeavors when it came to facing their longtime rivals.
   The performance from Coxville's players, once considered "fair" by most
other team's standards, had since developed into something almost
otherworldly in the span of what seemed to be overnight.  Their strength,
speed, team work, and stamina had grown exponentially since the last
season, leaving Bartown's coaches as perplexed, unprepared, and soundly
cajoled at their opponent's superior skills.  This sudden drastic increase
in physical ability seemed to be exhibited most, no, solely by their
African-American players.  The vast majority of young men who made up the
Coxville team were black, with the few Caucasian players actually on hand
displaying their ample ability to keep the bleachers warm.  Because of this
disproportion in the team's racial cast, the entire Coxville basketball
team appeared to be nothing short of unstoppable machines.  Jonah Houlihan,
Bartown's head basketball coach, was thoroughly stumped when it came to
creating or utilizing an effective countermeasure to Coxville's relentless
onslaught.  What the fuck sort of training had they been giving these boys,
he thought.  From the tip off of the game, they had aggressively
outclassed, outmaneuvered, and overpowered Bartown's predominately white
team of young players, making them appear to be nil more than novices to
the sport - their three consecutive championships all but a distant memory-
as the ball was repeatedly snatched, slapped, and jostled from their hands.
   Another loud wave of cheers echoed through the gymnasium as one of the
Coxville players, a tall, well-muscled dark skinned number, quickly
recovered the ball after a failed shot taken by one of Bartown's players, a
shorter, blonde boy of far less impressive physical stature, bricked from
the rim and bounded backwards into the fray.  The Coxville player nimbly
made his way from the far end of the court and to the other side.  Along
the way, and in one graceful spin, he dodged two of the oncoming players
just before jumping into the air, and hurling the ball in a feint to a
fellow player, another young black youth, of darker complexion, and even
more lean muscular definition that was positioned just near the right side
of the low post.  The darker Coxville player immediately caught the passed
ball, already in the air by the time it flew into his large open hands, and
lifted his arms to slam the ball into the white net with a loud smash.
   "Wow!  Did you see that?!" Said George Swallows enthusiastically. 
"We're killing these guys.  Championship, here we come!"
   George sat in one of the middle bleachers, a point where he had a
perfect view of the game.  The gymnasium was packed, bustling with shouts,
cheers, hollers and other such sounds that filled the area with resounding
electricity.  The kind of living energy that came from many people being
gathered and excited in one place.  Most of, if not all of the faces, were
familiar ones.  Many of the local high school students occupied the lower
rows of the bleachers, most of them gathered in groups no smaller than
five. Five girls and six boys sat together on the lowest bleachers.  Kitty
Summers, her signature blonde hair that was styled into a pony tail, sat at
the center of her band of fellow cheerleaders, who were in turn clustered
with several of the boys from the football team.
   The sight of them sitting there was considered an unorthodox one for the
small southern town.  Kitty and her entourage of Miko, Patty, and Pamela,
as well as the always seemingly out of place Susan, were sitting amongst a
cluster of young men, all of them black, and all of them of varying shapes,
sizes, and shades of ebony.  Miko and Pamela were to Kitty's right, and
Susan and Patty to her left, with the boys sitting at varying point's
in-between.  Kitty sat in the center, an arm wrapped from behind around the
chiseled torso of her boyfriend Samson West, a tall and built young man,
who in turn had his right arm casually slung over the blonde girl's
shoulder.  To the right were Miko and Pamela, who sat on both sides of the
tall, bald and contradictively nicknamed Little Leroy, his arms slung
comfortably around the both of them, his long sinewy legs stretched forward
in leisure.  Miko was wearing a particularly high cut skirt and girl's
hoodie that seemed to be a youth large in size.  Her slim but curvy figure
clung to the cotton and denim fabric.  Pamela was wearing a pair of shorts
that seemed to be trimmed all the way up to the highest point of her upper
thigh, showcasing her immaculately smooth legs and tanned skin.  Her
ensemble was completed with a t shirt that cut up at about the middle point
of her torso, showing her slim waist and flat stomach.  Both girls rested a
hand each on Leroy's stomach, a defined mass of rippling muscle that shown
through the fabric of his white tank top, their hands close enough to one
another's that their fingers often brushed together.  Patty, the tall,
built redhead was wearing a pair of tight fitting sweatpants that presented
the promise of the bountiful curves of her hips, thighs, and rear end.  She
wore black shoulder cut shirt that exposed her shoulders, and the black
straps of her bra which kept her large breasts mostly tamed.  On the shirt
in bold white letters was a tagline that said black in the new black.  The
pun and joke of this phrase would strike an onlooker upon noticing that
Patty was on the large arm of the big and burly brown skinned boy named
Max, and how both of her arms were coiled around his massive singular one -
while Susan, once considered to be the meek bookworm of the group, now sat
on the lap of the tall and long limbed boy, who's nickname among the group
was LD.  Susan wore only a slim chestnut colored skirt that had various
flower patterns on it.  Her hair was let down, and fell in long straight
strands down almost to the middle part of her back.  Both of LD's dark
hands were clasped onto her hips.  At times an idle hand would venture down
to caress one of her smooth legs, and on rare occasions travel a bit
further towards her inner thigh.
   The display summoned a silent ruckus among some of those in attendance.
Parents, member of faculty, and a number of fellow students looked on in
profound - though ineffably silent - outrage at the spectacle.  It wasn't
enough that almost all of them had begun dressing more provocatively, had
become infamous for their consecutive absences from classes, and had since
relinquished all their previous social ties to be with this gang of dark
skinned hooligans, but now it seemed like the young women were making a
show of flaunting their new behavior.  The young girls, cuddled up with the
group of young black men - clad in revealing high cut jean skirts and t
shirts.  It angered many within the crowd, though their protests were
confined to low mumbles and covert pointing amongst the populace.  For the
most part however - such as with many towns priding themselves on their
virtue and wholesomeness - the people who noticed the state of the girls
and their boyfriends ignored the display in favor of praising the action of
the game.  For small towns that pride themselves for their wholesomeness
can only do so, not out of the comfort of knowing there is no dirt or
controversy to be found, but out the willful ignorance of keeping such
matters swept firmly under the proverbial rug.
   Closer to the top of the bleachers was Mr.  and Mrs.  Brown, dressed
down as always in a recherché fashion, their daughter Stacy sitting next to
them, and their son Robert sitting an aisle below and further from the
family in an obvious act of defiance.  Mr.  White sat with one hand on
rested on the silky, milk white leg of his gorgeous wife Anya's, who seemed
to be either disinterested in the gesture, the game, or both.  With him was
his son Todd, who stared grievously not at his parent's (really parent,
since under no circumstances would Todd ever consider Anya to be his
mother, but rather his father's most recent purchase), but down at Kitty as
she cheered the team on while wrapped around Samson.  Todd, being Kitty's
previous boyfriend, had not yet come to terms with the act of Kitty dumping
him in favor of Sampson, this fact being shown in the seemingly permanent
scowl that now seemed to be permanently carved into his young face.  Closer
to the ground floor was principle Long, who seemed to be more invested in
keeping a head count of those in attendance than the actual game.  If
anyone had taken the time to monitor his movements however, one might have
noticed the faint hint of a smirk lining the old features of his brown face
whenever he looked over at Kitty and her party.
   "I tell you Harold, these kids are on fire tonight.  Houlihan over there
looks like he doesn't know whether he wants to rage or cry" said George
Swallows, who was sitting next to his long time friend Harold Summers.
   George slightly nudged Harold in his side with his elbow, using his
other hand to point across the way of the court to the Bartown's head
basketball coach.  Indeed, the silver haired Caucasian man looked to be a
state of stunted anger and profound sorrow, his eyebrows furrowed at a
downward angle, while his face muscles tensed and his mouth drooped
simultaneously in what couldn't be rightly discerned as a scowl or frown.
Harold seemed to be in somewhat of a trance, a vacant thousand yard stare
aimed down to the lower bleachers where his daughter sat.  He snapped out
of it with an abrupt jump in response to George's nudge.  He shook his
head, derailing whatever train of thought he was in, and looked over at
Houlihan.  He stared for a moment, and then began to laugh, more a nervous
secondary chuckle as though he was trying to catch up to the conversation.
George immediately broke into laugher behind him, paunch stomach giggling
somewhat as a result.  George put a hand to his thinning brown hair while
lost in amusement.
   "Ha-ha, oh wow, look at him.  Hey honey, get a close up of Coach
Houlihan's face, it's priceless."
   To George Swallow's right sat his lovely wife Ivana, a handheld
camcorder in her flawlessly manicured hands.  Her husband had recently
bought the recorder, and had brought it along to give its said high
definition capabilities a test run.  Ivana focused the camera on the
disheveled coach, the high quality of the camera capturing every contour
and line of the man's face.
   "Oh now that is just too funny", Ivana said, the faint hint of her
southern accent made prominent by the statement.  "You'd swear he was a kid
who just got an IOU from Santa on Christmas morning".
   George continued laughing, Harold's laughter now dwindling to more of a
light snicker while Ivana giggled from behind the opened lens.  The plan
had originally been for George to be one recording the game.  As it turned
out however, in making idle chit-chat with Harold, George handed Ivana the
camera, and had since seemed to push the objective down as a simple
afterthought.  It was a common move for George as far as Ivana was
concerned.  In their nine some odd years of marriage George had never been
one to follow through with a plan, despite the fact he was often the one
proposing them.  He was often struck with an array of seemingly ingenious
ideas, a family outing here, a plan for building a shed there, a new device
to be installed or used at home that never made it out of the garage once
purchased.  This was how scatterbrained her husband was, and it was
therefore countered by Ivana's habit of taking action to take part in
whatever venture George had planned as a solo act, with George giving
occasional commentary in gest to maintain the illusion that he was at the
helm of the enterprise.  Therefore she had spent most of the time using the
new camcorder, pointing and aiming it back and forth in capturing the
action of the game, a single red dot on the lower left side of the
viewfinder to mark what she was recording every moment.
   Basketball wasn't by any means Ivana's favorite sport.  Not that she
couldn't appreciate the degree of skill that it required to do such feats,
like the muscular black youth's slam dunk that she had just witnessed.  Her
reluctance to be present at the game spawned from the fact that tonight
she'd simply rather be doing other things than field testing George's
soon-to-be-forgotten camcorder.  In all likelihood she would have much
rather preferred to be at home, relaxing in a long luxurious soak in a hot
bath, washing and priming her deep brown hair, and laying in her warm king
sized bed to enjoy the new book on diet and health she had just received
that day in the mail.  She was so enamored with her plans for that evening
she had initially told George earlier that day she didn't much feel like
attending the game when he had brought it up.
   ...
   "I don't think I'm up for it tonight.  This week really took it out of
me, and I think I'd rather just stay in and relax tonight.  Catch up on
some rest, maybe get little bit of reading in", she said.
   "Awww, come on honey.  We haven't had much time to be out and about at
all lately.  What with my hours in the office during the day, and these
extra hours you've been working at the school, the only time I get to see
you is when you're asleep", said George in a tone that sounded dangerously
close to a whine.
   "I know, but the last place I want to go out to is the school where I
work George", Ivana replied tersely.
   "True, but 1) you're not going there to work, you're going there to have
fun and enjoy the game, and 2) you'll be making me happy, because I'll get
to show everyone that my gorgeous wife has got Coxville spirit.  I told you
I was captain way back when."
   Only every time words with the letter B comes up in a sentence, she
thought to herself.  She fought the urge to roll her eyes.
   Many years ago in his youth, George had been captain of the Coxville
basketball team.  Back when George had a stomach rather than a gut, and
when the number of loses held by the team made them infamous for being the
sacrificial lamb of the county.  George had always hoisted himself as more
of the optimist, and never wavering from his "can-do" attitude.  Much of
that charm and optimism was what had originally attracted Ivana to him. 
His bright smile, boyish good looks, and bright character struck something
warm inside her, and matched with his decent physical state at the time,
she saw him as something of a catch.  These days he still maintained his
cheery personality, his optimistic outlook on all things, but everything
else she noticed had taken something of a back seat and then some over the
years.  His once full head of thick brown hair slowly thinned and retreated
from his hairline bit by bit, revealing more of a shiny white skull almost
every other day it seemed.  His stomach, once taut and lined with a decent
amount of muscle, had grown soft as marshmallow and expanded, as well as
grew hairy with age.  When he smiled his boyish appeal could still be seen,
but only just barely.
   She still cared for him greatly, loved him as much as any devoted wife
in a wholesome southern town such as Coxville could love her husband, but
she couldn't ignore that such a degree of depth and time in knowing
someone, made one privy to every single one of their faults, be it minute
or major.  George's increasingly lax efforts when it came to physical
fitness were one such fault, and stood in stark contrast to her efforts. 
While George gorged himself on potato chips, burgers, French fries, ice
cream, candy bars, and whole cases of ice cold beer, Ivana spent an ample
amount of her time working on, pushing, and perfecting her body.  Every
morning and night she spent an hour on the stationary bike - what with
jogging being completely out of the question given how large her breasts
were - and engaged in a grueling workout regimen with her friend and ad hoc
personal trainer Sammy Spitzmen.  Sammy was young, nine years Ivana's
junior, and at the pinnacle of her physical health.  Sammy held seemingly
boundless reserves of energy, so Ivana's workouts primarily consisted of
simply trying to keep up with the hyperactive, remarkably fit and bubbly
redhead.  Her efforts, despite her inability to keep up with Sammy, had
paid off.  At 36, Ivana's body was a pillar of womanly health and beauty.
   From head to toe there was not an ounce undesirable fat on her frame. 
Her arms were trim, with just enough definition to them to appear strong,
but maintained their feminine shape and appeal.  Her stomach was flat, and
set up well for the outward curvature of her most desirable hips.  She
worked tirelessly on her lower half, particularly her gluts, which never
seemed to lose shape or mass despite the dozens upon dozens of squats she
did almost daily.  But alas, it still carried ample muscle under the soft
outer layers.  Her ass had always been big, as were her breasts, a full and
round set of GGs that, despite their size, curved upward near their peak,
and stayed pert regardless of how hard she worked to reduce them through
exercise.  Her behind got her a slew of glances as she walked down the
halls of Coxville High, particularly from the black male students, who
never seemed to be without a low whistle or a stunted O shaped expression
as she passed them.  She often ignored it, chalking it up to immature
adolescent behavior, and the ineffable fact that black men can never seem
to contain themselves around women with large posteriors.  The extra work
to her lower half paid off particularly well in her thighs and legs, which
shown tight and showcased fine lines that made many of the younger girls
she saw at school turn colors when catching the hungered gaze shot at them
by their boyfriends.
   Her figure, matched with her very scantly tanned natural skin color - a
trait of her Nordic and Italian ancestry - made her something of a knockout
around Coxville.  No light claims, considering that many, if not most of
the women in town were considered to be stunningly beautiful by any county,
or even the state, or even possibly the country for that matter.
   Her shape made her able to wear basically whatever she wanted, or
rather, whatever she wanted that was considered reasonable with her
profession.  As head nurse and health consultant of Coxville High, Ivana
Swallows had the right to take certain liberties with the style of her
dress.  The way she saw it, it was her duty to remain as a close to a
living picture of health as possible, to act as an example to her patients
and colleagues.  This responsibility that she prided herself on, granted in
her mind a privilege to wear what she wanted.  If she found a particularly
striking new sweater or blouse that she knew she simply had to own, she'd
buy it, and not think twice about wearing it to work with, perhaps, a bit
more of her cleavage pronounced than would normally be merited for someone
of her caste and position.  Lately she had been working longer hours at the
school, preparing for a meeting with the parents of students on proper
health and nutrition for the school year.
   While it was common for schools to have PSAs promoting proper health
habits and exercise amongst the student body, Ivana pushed for Principle
Long to forward the message publicly to the parents of students as well,
convincing after weeks and weeks of proposing, editing, and further
proposing, to host a public parent-teacher meeting on proper diet and
effective physical activities that could implemented in their every day
life.  After all, teenagers seldom retained such information for prolonged
periods of time, and their whimsical belief that they could all eat junk
food in bulk, and maintain good health with menial exercise often guided
their activity level more than not.  This fact irked her fiercely.  She
adopted the belief that an unfit, unhealthy student body was merely the
reflected dereliction of duty from their parents and instructors, and Ivana
Swallows was by no means a derelict.
   "Besides" George began again.  "Jenny will be there.  I'm sure you two
girls would love spending some time to get together and visit for a while."
   As soon as the name "Jenny" escaped George's lips, Ivana's left eye
twitched.  It took every fiber of her being to keep her body from doing a
full wince.  She found it to be the vocalized equivalent of nails on a
chalk board.  Her nerves jutted, and on the inside her soul curled into a
tight red ball as she turned to her husband and said,
   "Oh really?  Well...I guess I'm not THAT tired.  Besides I wanted to
pick up a few notes from my office anyway for the upcoming health awareness
meeting we're having at the end of the month."
   "Alrighty then, sounds like a plan", said George, his face beaming with
delight.
   Ivana held every ounce of raw anger and annoyance buried deep within the
pit of her stomach.  If she was going to be there, that low clout blonde
headed bimbo Jenny Summers, then she would undoubtedly be there doing her
absolute best to show off and frolic around the place in front of everyone,
flashing her big (probably fake) tits in front of everyone present to
garner some pathetic nod of acknowledgement.  And if Jenny Summers was
going to be at the game, then Ivana Swallows had to be there as well.
   "It'll be a perfect opportunity to test out that new camcorder I bought
the other day", said George as he took a large bite of a particularly large
ham sandwich, dripping with mayo.
   Slowly, Ivana pressed down her anger, and forced her full lips to turn
up into a wide smile.
   "Yeah, that sounds like a great plan dear."
   ...
   Ivana had spent most of the first quarter of the game simply getting
used to controlling the camcorder.  It was small enough device that she was
able to hold it in one hand, and the flipping viewfinder made aiming the
recorder easy to keep a subject in sight.  The only trick she found to it
was zooming in and out.  During certain motions of the game Ivana wanted to
get close up shots of the players when they engaged in some of the more
spectacular moves.  The button that controlled the span of the frame was
very sensitive, and moved simply by her touching a finger to a grayish
switch located on the side of the camcorder, and motioning it forwards or
backwards slowly.  Because of this some of the shots would look jerky,
zooming in too fast that it would focus on the wrong part of the court, or
too close to a player while trying to get a medium sized view.  Once she
had accidentally zoomed in directly on the crotch of one of the Coxville
player's as he ran up the court.  It was purely an accident, and a part of
her laughed on the inside at the act, but another part of her twisted in
shock at what the camera captured.  As the young player, a tall, long
limbed African American boy of considerable musculature, ran down the
court, she could see the steady bouncing of something in the front of the
boy's shorts.  The length and shape of it resembled a small baby's arm, or
even a segmented nightstick as it bounced up and down with each step as he
ran.  What the hell?  What's he hiding in his pants?  Ivana thought to
herself.  Against her initial thought to simply let the matter go for fear
of looking like some sort of pervert with a fetish for filming young ball
players, she continued to follow the boy's crotch with the camera.  It was
a tad difficult following him as he jogged to the other side of the court,
but the angle soon became perfect as he neared closer to their side of the
gymnasium.  As his steps approached, Ivana could make out more of the
hidden shape.  The structure of it, the way it flopped up and down slightly
with each stride, Ivana was eventually able to make out what she was
seeing. Oh my god, is that?  That can't be his...penis, she thought.  It
can't be, she continued as she looked closer into the viewfinder.
   To her disbelief, she could just make out the meaty surface of what must
have been a penis of an easy ten inches straining the fabric of the young
basketball player's red and white jersey shorts.  My word, no way that
could be his penis, it's far too long, and...thick, she thought.  Indeed,
the sizable member was as thick as it was long, if not more so.  The
outline of it barely fit into frame as Ivana closed on it with the grayish
button.  The sweat on his pants casted a wet quality over the full outline,
which gave it more definition, and she could just barely make out smaller
lines lining the penis that could only be veins, full veins the size of a
child's fingers.  My lord, thought Ivana.
   "What's wrong honey?" said George.
   Ivana stirred with surprise at the abruptness of George's question.
   "Wh...What?" she said flustered to the point she almost fumbled the
camera out of her hands.
   "You said my lord like you just spotted him on the court.  Is the camera
working alright?"
   Ivana hadn't realized she had spoken.  Had she really said "my lord" out
loud?
   "Oh, oh no, it's just-"
   "Here, let me see, maybe we'll just have to delete some of the earlier
footage or-"
   "No!  Ivana said, a bit louder than necessary that it made George's eyes
widened in surprise.
   "I just...forgot that I have to get a few of my notes from my office is
all.  Remember, for the meeting?"
   "Oh yeah, that's right."
   "Yeah, I'm actually going to run down there and grab them really quick.
I shouldn't be more than a minute."
   "Alright, well here I'll take the camcorder and film the rest of the
ga-"
   "No!" said Ivana in an even louder tone this time, unsure now of whether
or not she had been recording the sight of the young black man running down
the court.  She didn't want to run the risk of George looking into the
viewfinder to spy recorded footage, taken by his wife, of a tall, muscular
black kid with the outline of a penis flopping around in his pants that
made his (rock hard) look like that of a toddler's by comparison.
   Ivana feigned clearing her throat, making it seem like her outburst was
accidental.
   "I actually want to mess around with it a bit more, I'm starting to get
the hung-I mean- hang of how it works; I want to get a little better at
it."
   George's face went from one of confusion, then - to Ivana's worry- a
brief contortion bordering on suspicion, before it finally settled on that
warm, boyish smile of his.
   "Ha-ha, alright then.  That sounds just like my lady, once she jumps
onto something, she doesn't get off til it's mastered" he chuckled. 
"Alright, well I'll save your seat for you.  Hurry on back though, we're
only in the second quarter, but I do want to get some of the later parts of
the game on film."
   Ivana smiled,
   "Sure thing hon."
   "Oh, and Ivy", came Harold from the other side of George in a somewhat
weary voice.  Harold had taken to calling her by her short name, pronounced
"Eve-e" years ago.  "If you see that wife of mine, tell her to hurry on
back so she doesn't miss the game.  She went to get us some drinks from the
concession stand almost twenty minutes ago, and hasn't come back yet."
   Harold looked at her with a drained expression.  His eyes were strange,
a bit of strain and redness to them.  Ivana had noticed this as an
increasingly common state for Harold these days.  Harold once had a
physique that was hefty and greatly similar to George's, a thick paunch and
round features of flesh.  In the beginning it had looked like he had simply
got into the habit of steady workouts, a healthy weight loss.  Now however
it appeared more to be a product of him simply not eating.  His face held
two hollows where he once had full cheeks the like of a chipmunk, and his
once normal fitting clothes seemed to fit him baggy like that of the youths
she saw every day at school, just not nearly as stylish.  His eyes bore
dark rings around the edges that confessed a lack of sleep.  Ivana looked
over at the lower bleachers, and to his daughter Kitty.  She knew that the
girl had recently changed, taken to that Sampson West and his crowd of
black derelicts that she and her little cheerleader friends had developed a
fancy for, and in turn caught an array of questionable habits in dress and
attitude.
   Ditching classes, staying out late at night, dressing more and more like
street walkers than A-students.  She speculated that this drastic change in
behavior somehow correlated to Harold's drastic change in appearance and
demeanor.  And not just that, it seemed to be catching on to the other
girls as well, like a kind of virus.  The other cheerleaders, all once
young ladies of the highest caste and caliber of Coxville, had adopted the
same unladylike habits after they started hanging around those dark skinned
roughians.  Even the pretty dark haired girl, Susan, who had once been
known to everyone as having perfect attendance and straight A's in all her
courses, and always seen reading a book of some sort, had now fallen into
the crowd.  Nothing good is to be found in that, thought Ivana, looking at
the young blonde girl who was clasped tightly on the muscled form of
Sampson.  The young girl was already turning for the worse, already gaining
weight in places that would be seen as unattractive if not for her
naturally athletic figure.  She struggled to keep a smile from forming on
her lips at the mention and thought of Jenny that this caused by relation.
A sniggering bit of satisfaction was found in Ivana at the tarnish to
Jenny's legacy.  Not much, as Ivana had no real qualms with Jenny's
daughter, but a slight triumph was found none the less.
   "Sure thing Harold, I'll let her know", she said from behind clenched
teeth.
   Ivana turned to make her way through the aisle.
   "Oh and honey", said George.
   Ivana half turned to her husband, now frustrated from what would
undoubtedly be yet another request.
   "If you're going to pass the concession stand, think you could get me a
coke and some chili fries?"
   The mention of it made her stomach turn.  She didn't understand how her
husband could voluntarily eat that junk.
   "And THAT's the sort of thing I'll be speaking against at the meeting"
she said, a bit of bite to her tone to let George know she most certainly
did not approve of his choice in food.
   "Then I'll have to enjoy them tonight while I can", replied George,
dawning a somewhat smart assed grin that said touché.
   "Sigh...fine, diet or regular?"
   "Diet, I'm willing to compromise", said George.
   "Alright", Ivana said, and started walking through the aisle again.
   "Thanks honey, the best as always", he smiled, punctuating his remark by
giving her a slight smack on the butt, which made it giggle somewhat from
the impact.  She liked the feeling, but George's spoiled behavior soured
the sensation somewhat.
   As she made her way down the aisle, another cascade of loud cheers
erupted from the crowd.  Ivana looked back before exiting the gymnasium to
see that the Coxville basketball team had scored yet another three pointer,
the same black athlete from before bouncing on one leg in a recovery motion
from the jump shot he had just made, the long meaty outline of his cock
bouncing in unison with the motion.  Thick as an arm, she thought to
herself.  For some reason unknown to her, she lingered on this thought, and
to the sensation of George playfully smacking her behind, and how the force
rippled through her ass.  The combined thoughts of the player's huge penis,
and the smack caused Ivana to oddly shudder as she exited through the
gymnasium's double doors.
   ...
   As Ivana walked down the hallway that led from the gymnasium, she
rewound the footage on the camcorder, before hitting the delete option. 
She didn't want to chance George finding what she had previously recorded,
and she figured it would be much easier to simply tell him she accidentally
deleted the earlier part of the game should the situation arise where he
actually held possession of the recorder again.  The hall was empty,
everyone was most likely gathered back in the main hall of the gym, and she
could hear each one of her steps reverberate through the barren hall with
the echoing clack of her high heels.  The force of her steps caused her
large natural breasts to bounce slightly each time her foot came into
contact with the ground.  Ivana was a very large DD, and her bountiful
mounds had always been a source of mixed appreciation and woe for the
middle aged beauty.  The size and mass of them made running long distances
a near impossible feat, and she often had lower back pains that she
suffered silently.  Her husband George loved them however, the fact that
his hands were only capable of grabbing a meager handful that covered only
a portion of her breasts was an incredible turn on for him.  Ivana often
caught the eyes of many of the local townsmen (and some women) to be cast
down at them during daily conversation.  She often had to reprimand the
younger men at school, and lecture them on how crude it was to not look a
person in the eye whilst talking to them.  The act irked her to say the
least, but a part of her, the lesser known Domina that dwelled inside of
her, found the gesture to be oddly flattering.  She liked the notion that
men and women found her attractive, desired her, and envied her, stood
jealous of her figure as something to be achieved.
   Of course this wasn't the case for everyone in town.  Not everyone held
her to be the end all form of beauty in Coxville.  On the contrary, when
the issue of good looks among the women folk in town came up, the premier
name to be referenced rated Ivana as a "close second" to Jenny Summers. 
She had actually heard this time and time again in hushed whispers from
students, even faculty of the school, and by relation the rest of the
people in town.  In fact, a quite often scenario was Jenny's and her name
being uttered, compared, and contrasted in the same sentence.
   "You get a load of Nurse Swallows today?  Damn, she's soooo hot", she'd
hear young men in the hallway whisper in the hallways when they thought she
was not around or could hear them.
   "God, I'd give anything to bury my face in those tits."
   She should have been offended, part of her in fact was, but the reverse
came in the form of a smile of being charmed by the statement.  Why
shouldn't men be attracted to her?  Young men especially are bound to
express appreciation of the female form, and Ivana was, to her own credit,
a very sexually appealing woman.  The notion that she was something of a
sex icon to the young boys flattered her into a faint blush, all the way up
to when someone would counter with,
   "Yeah she's hot...but Mrs.  Summers' ...god...no SHE'S AMAZING I tell
ya."
   Ivana's spirits would be lifted, only to suffer the plummet every time
she heard this.
   "Now Mrs.  Summers has a PERFECT body.  That hair, those eyes, those
curves, those tits, lord almighty, those things make you want to stand up
and beg for buttermilk", they'd say.
   "You're right about that one.  Hands down the hottest woman in
Coxville."
   Hearing that title, "hottest woman in Coxville", always served as the
final jab in the gut to Ivana.  She HATED the fact that so many of people
in town had such an all-encompassing title for Jenny Summers.  As if she
was the end all-be-all to sexual desire in the county.  It made all of
Ivana's efforts, the exhausting daily exercises, the assiduous dieting, the
meticulous effort put into her wardrobe and the perfect appliances of
makeup - just enough to let her natural beauty show- all of it, seem to be
for nothing.  It worked her nerves to the nub to think all time and energy
merited that of second class to someone like Jenny.  Jenny, who as far as
she saw, was only popular because of her looks.  Yes, Jenny Summers was a
stunningly gorgeous woman, she had been even back when they attended high
school together.  Back then Jenny was smaller in frame, her body slightly
more athletic and less curvaceous.  Not at all unlike the way Jenny's
daughter Kitty looked now, or rather, used to look before falling in with
those young punks.  She was the spitting image of her mother, and similarly
the subject of much admiration from many of her peers (and secretly some of
the faculty judging from rumor), a male and female.  Ivana was certainly
nothing to scoff at herself, and her peers gave her a similar sort of
appreciation.  However it was a marvel to Ivana that so many people failed
to notice how wholly imperfect she was.  The amount of praise garnered from
fans of Jenny didn't at all cover what Ivana found to be an utterly false
personality from the buxomly blonde.  She was always so damn happy, so
openly fake.  A forced kindness always seemed to beam from her statuesque
porcelain face and bright smile, enough to make Ivana's lightly tanned face
redden.  But alas, all those around her dotted on her, gave her nothing but
unyielding affection, while giving Ivana what seemed to be any leftover
accolades that remained after they were done praising Jenny for simply
knowing how to inhale and exhale oxygen properly.
   Jenny Summers, the Queen of Coxville, made Ivana Swallows sick.  So sick
that it eventually convinced Ivana that she needed to make friends with
her, approach her as a potential best friend with the aim of exposing Jenny
for the fraud Ivana knew she really was.  The entire span of their
"friendship" had been one carefully aimed shot for Ivana to finally bring
what she knew to be a farce into the light that others could see.  Ivana
would gradually wear her down, bide her time until she found a way to out
her.  Show that the wholesome southern belle facade merely masked something
low class, something crude, that didn't at all merit having such a perfect
life, with endless admiration and all the fixings and added appreciation
that Ivana worked her behind off to receive the runoff of.  Ivana was so
caught up in her mental tangent, going over the checklist of how false
Jenny Summers really was and reasons she despised her, she hadn't even
noticed she had been hovering over the desk in her office, standing blankly
over a slew of papers, her notes for the upcoming meeting for more than
five minutes.
   She sighed, coming back somewhat into the here and now, and kneeled down
to collect what pages she felt she need.  Her desk was a mess, papers
scattered everywhere.  She hated things being unorganized.  Things at work
had just been maddening as of late, and she hadn't yet had the time to
thoroughly clean the office.  As she rustled through the pile, her huge
breasts hung lower over the desk, wafting slightly as she gathered the
pieces of white paper.  After she gathered the pages she needed, she
stepped back into the main hallway of the school.  It was dark, a stark
contrast to how bright the halls seemed during school hours.  The darkened
state of the place made her somewhat ill at ease.  She didn't realize how
creepy the school looked at night.  The wide hallways intended to give
enough space for the steady traffic of students and faculty during each
school day now seemed to hold a vast emptiness, one where it seemed
anything could pop out of anywhere at any time.  Ivana walked nervously
down the hallway, the clanking of her shoes louder than she liked as they
echoed steadily.  Her steps were so loud that she actually missed the first
audible moan when it was bellowed into the air from somewhere further down
the hallway.  Ivana stopped dead in her tracks.  She stood stock still,
trying to determine whether or not she had just heard something.
   She figured it was just her mind playing tricks, making up alternative
sounds for her own movement and giving form to simple shadows strewn about
the corridor of the school, which already had her a little creeped out. 
This was her initial conclusion...until she heard the noise again.  A low,
almost guttural groan from something that she couldn't determine.  Her
heart began to pound harder in her chest as she stood as stone in the
center of the empty corridor.  She thought it may have been an animal.  A
cat perhaps, who snuck in through a cracked or open window - opened with
the intent of air out the summer heat, and forgotten - in search of idle
mice, and had found instead another cat competing for the same prize?  Or
maybe it's some pervert trying to get the drop on me, Ivana thought.
   The latter idea motivated her to slowly, but not too slowly, unlace, and
step out of her high heel shoes.  She wasn't sure which direction the noise
came from, and if it was a pervert, she was going to make sure she had
something on hand to fight with, as well as create an easier means for her
to escape.  She hated the idea of running, but if she were attacked, she'd
have no choice.  Again the noise came, this time louder than the last. 
Definitely a groan, but this time it sounded more effeminate, a womanly
howl more than a masculine grunt.  Ivana began walking forward again, her
feet now making only scant patting sounds as the soles of her feet planted
themselves one after another on the cold smooth hallway floor.
   That noise again, this time louder.  Definitely a woman, definitely
emitting from one of the nearby rooms in the corridor.  Added to the sound
now was a blunt and steady smacking that Ivana could just make out.  As she
approached closer the source of the disturbance, an idea crossed her mind.
If there was a pervert, or perhaps thief walking through the school, they
would most likely be caught off guard if they attacked her to find a
camcorder being shoved into their face, their image caught on camera for
the authorities to possibly identify him.  Should that instance arise,
Ivana figured that would be enough to throw the prowler off kilter enough
to allow her to get the first blow, perhaps even frighten him into running
away.  She flipped the viewfinder open, and hit the red button that marked
"record".  Try this curve ball you derelict bastard, she thought to
herself. The noise once coming from one of the classrooms allocated to the
science department.  It was one of the larger rooms that stayed open later
than the others, for students wanting to do extra credit for chemistry. 
Bizarre however, as Ivana thought that even though the room was open for
longer hours, it was surely locked at night after the janitors got done
cleaning.
   All the same, there was most definitely someone inside there, and by the
sound of it he was breaking into something.  The distinct sound of a hand
or fist crashing into...something.  It sounded like a pair of heavy hands
coming together in applause in the middle of a steady stream of water. 
Whatever it was it sounded too soft to be a lock or safe of some sort. 
Besides there wasn't really anything of value in the room to steal anyway,
was there?  Ivana pondered this as she took another few quiet steps towards
the door.  The groans took on the form of two people, not one as she
originally thought.  It sounded like a man and a woman, though by the
intensity, the nonsensical grunts and groans coming from both, one could
hardly define either as sounding human.  The smashing sounds grew louder,
and as Ivana placed her ear against the door she pick out an increasing wet
quality to the noise.  She pieced together that the sound of the smashing
was what gave rise to the grunting.  The harder the slam, the louder the
subsequent grunts would be.  Someone's...having sex in the science room! 
Ivana realized.  How wholly crude!  She figured it had to be a couple of
young students, capitalizing off the crowd gathered in the gymnasium for
the game, and likely the lax duties of the janitors leaving the door
unlocked to watch the game.  Probably a couple of the (black) students who
didn't have the good sense to take their bedroom escapades to the bedroom.
Young hormones at work, with a mix of no scruples or tact.  Well, someone
is about to get busted, thought Ivana.  If an anonymous and concerned
citizen were to film these two derelicts in the act, and recommend to
Principle Long that they should be suspended, even expelled for indecent
behavior that would get the message across that such horrid acts were not
to be tolerated in Coxville High, let alone the Coxville community.  Long
was under the gun enough as is with the problem of student attendance and
grade performance, and Ivana knew he certainly wouldn't let something like
lewd conduct compound upon the pile, not if it meant his neck was exposed
to the potential danger.
   Ivana snickered at the thought of besting a pair of unruly youths, but
also there was a bit of excitement that grew in her.  A thrill that her
increasing heartbeat attested to as it thumped harder and harder in her
chest.  The sounds that these two were making, they were so...so...Ivana
couldn't quite place a word to it.
   "Gawd damn dis pussy is fuckin good", came the very deep baritone voice
of a man from inside the room.
   Oh yeah, they're black alright, Ivana concluded in her mind after
gauging the twang in the voice.  No scruples and even worse grammar, she
thought.  She readied the camera, holding the viewfinder up to her face,
her other hand quietly, slowly twisting the silver door handle, and ever so
gently pushing it open.  When the door swayed inward to reveal the scene,
the slow unveiling of two sweaty masses of flesh and muscle, she forced
herself to hold back a gasp.  HE was black alright, but the female with
him, most certainly was not.  What Ivana saw was almost surreal to her. 
She was by no means inexperienced or uneducated in the subject of sex, but
what she beheld seemed to be far much more than simple intercourse.  The
man, a big, burly brown skinned individual with a monstrous frame - a giant
by all accounts as far Ivana was concerned - was standing with his back
more cocked at a side angle to Ivana, facing her enough that she could make
out the curvature of his solid chest and strong facial features, with his
head facing downward that he didn't notice her or the faint blue light of
the camera from the slightly opened door.  Even in the near dark, Ivana
could make out his smooth dark skin that glistened with sweat, droplets
rolling down his chiseled back, highly sculpted lower torso, his Adonis
like ass and titanic thighs and legs strewn with hard muscle.  His dark
blue workmen's pants pooled around his ankles, just at his white socks and
brown work boots.  He was pumping vigorously, relentlessly into the woman,
a very curvy and fit white body, which was just as sweaty as he was,
glistening in the moonlight that poured in through the window.
   She was bent over onto the nearest adjoined tables nearest to the
smallish sink and gas setup.  The audible smashing Ivana had previously
heard was the sound of the man's thick body, his hips smashing with an
incredible force into the soft, round ass cheeks of the bellowing, writhing
female.  The desk was angled in such a way that Ivana could clearly see the
deep brown pair of humungous testicles that swayed back and forth, swinging
underneath and slapping loud near her pubic area of the woman.
   "Oh shit!" cursed the woman in a mesh of surprise and unbridled
pleasure. "You're burying that big black cock so DEEP!" she groaned.
   The white figure reached a hand up and clasped it onto a faucet head
that was nearby, clutching it tightly and exposing a gold wedding band as
she continued getting pounded from behind by the huge black man.  Ivana's
breath grew shallow before she unconsciously held it completely, her heart
hammered in her chest.  Her hand holding the camcorder shook with the
combined fear and adrenaline rush of what she was witnessing.  Her reaction
was bizarrely split, divided in two in her take on what she was seeing. 
The prim and proper woman in her screamed out at the woman in protest,
while her inner voyeur quietly stared on in frothing glee at the spectacle.
Despite both forces holding equal ground in her head, the voyeur won the
final decision, and Ivana quietly continued to film.  She took up her other
hand to steady the camcorder and calm her other shaking hand, fighting the
urge to slide her hand...someplace else.  Drawn to the sight, she watched
as the screen automatically brightened to compensate for the eclipsing
dark.
   The camcorder illuminated the room through its lens, and Ivana got a
better look at the particulars of both characters as they continued their
animalistic tryst.  She could better see the rippling muscle that composed
the entire span of his large body.  He was dark, chocolate dark with the
added darkness of the room.  His face showcased powerful features, a wide
nose, large dark eyes, full lips, and a chiseled jaw line that clenched
tightly as he labored behind the woman.  Ivana zoomed in on the man's face,
close enough that she could see the beads of sweat pouring from his shiny
bald head.  He's so...dark she thought.  He wasn't familiar to her, not in
the slightest.  His workmen's pants and short-sleeve button down shirt that
lay flat on the floor looked very similar to the uniform the two other
janitors at the school wore, the tall and slim dark skinned black man, and
the fatter, lighter skinned one whose names she never cared or bothered
learning, much less to remember.  This one, who seemed to be an even height
and build between the two, might have been new.
   "Ugh, you like dat big ol nigga dick stretchin out yo pussy huh, dirty
white bitch!"
   "Agh, yes, fuck yeah, I love that big nigger cock.  Ah!"
   The dialogue between them caused Ivana to pan back out with the camera.
She made the focus go further down in examination the source of the loud
slamming noises.  If Ivana hadn't gasped before, she most certainly did
when her green eyes fell on the image conveyed by the lens, as it focused
on what was to be seen below the black man's waist.  Ivana's eyes widened
with shock and awe.  A full, rock hard penis of incredible length, the
biggest she had ever seen.  A solid 12 inches, and of significant girth she
saw, in crystal clarity made by the camera.  The color of deep ebony, it
resembled a large night stick or billy-club, but dare Ivana thought, fuller
- more robust - with thick dark veins running up and down the meaty shaft.
It was pulling back from inside the woman's exposed, gapping pink pussy. 
The lens blurred for a moment, readjusting from the angle change, and
showed a high definition close up of the huge dark member just before it
buried itself all the way back inside the panting woman's pussy.
   "Oh my god", whispered Ivana, a shake in her voice from watching the
black stud go deep, what must have been belly deep, into a quivering and
incredibly wet white gash.  The woman's pussy dripped clear liquids down
her pale toned thighs.  The slick liquids bathed the black stud's cock, and
it was clearly visible each time he pulled back to his of his fat cock
head. Ivana shivered.  Never in her life had she seem a woman get so
thoroughly dominated, punished sexually, and with such force than what she
was observing.  She'd have felt sorry for the poor woman and her brutalized
pussy...if it weren't for the moans this girl was emitting.
   "Ugh fuck!  You're gonna make me cum on that huge motherfucker!" the
woman said, her grip on the faucet getting tighter.
   Her moaning became quickened when the black stud sped up his pace, his
hips pumping with an even louder set of slams rewards his efforts.  The
woman's screams grew maddening as her climax approached.  When it finally
hit, Ivana moved the camera ever so slightly to the right, and panned out
to get a shot of the woman's straight legs shake as her pussy dripped a
larger quantity of clear white liquids from her sweet pink gap.  A tuft of
long blonde hair whipped up and back in ecstasy from the onslaught.  Ivana
pulled the image back a bit more and the hair wafted backwards, exposing
the enraptured face of...Jenny Summers!?
   "Oh my god!" Ivana said at the same time Jenny did, though Jenny's was a
more invigorated one of passion more than shock.
   "Ugh, yeah, I'm bout to nut too baby." Growled the black man as his pace
quickened.
   Jenny turned her face around to look at the black stud.  She took her
free hand, the one not clutching the faucet head for dear life, and placed
it on the rock solid abs of the toiling Negro.  In a gesture of power he
grabbed her arm, pulling it back and forcing her to lift up slightly from
the table.  Jenny's large breasts flopped up slightly with the motion.
   "Oh yes!  That's it baby, pound that pussy.  Give me that hot white
nigger load!"
   The stud obliged, and gutted her pussy hard until every muscle in his
body tensed.
   "AAAGH FUUUCK!" he roared, pumping a few more finalizing thrusts before
a thick white spray spilled inside Jenny's filled up pussy.
   It pooled from inside in thick wet globs, spilling onto the classroom
floor.  As his orgasm continued, Jenny pushed up from the table and turned
towards the man, his huge cock flopping out of her pussy, and she quickly
kneeled down, grabbing the cock firmly in one hand, grabbing a handful of
the man's testicles in the other, and swallowing the humungous head,
sucking at the rich, creamy white bounty that came from it.  Like a child
to its bottle, she sucked and sucked on the throbbing head, opening her
mouth wide to take a mouthful of pearly white cum.
   "GARRGH!" He shouted in a toothy snarl, before his body finally relaxed,
and his face calmed.
   A long moment went by, the air quiet except for the man's slow
breathing, and Jenny's steady mmmmh sounds as she gulped the cum down and
licked what remnants remained from the now softening head.  The veins of
the cock pulsed a little before they finally calmed to a minimum, or, as
much of a minimum as a thirteen inch penis could.
   "Ma cousin Jerome was right.  You one bad bitch Mrs.  Summers.  Shit, I
ain't neva seen a white bitch take all ma meat like dat beefo", the man
said in more of an exhale.
   "Please...call me Jenny", she said in between swallows and licks.  "What
was your name again?" she asked.
   Ivana couldn't believe her ears any more than her eyes.  Had Jenny, a
married woman, this complete slut, just fucked a man, a BLACK man no less,
without even knowing his name?
   "Tyrone..." he said, looking down at her as she lapped at the cum that
had dripped onto her large breasts, her long blonde hair shifting a little
from the bobbing head motions.
   "Well...welcome to Coxville High Tyrone", said Jenny.  "You be sure to
tell your cousin Jerome I said thank you for giving me the chance to show
you around campus.  I mean, you're only filling in for him tonight and all,
but I know how big the place is.  You can easily get lost around here."
   "Yes ma'am" chuckled the black man.
   Ivana saw this as her queue to leave.  Quietly and quickly, she turned
and scampered away from the door.  Now that the pair wasn't occupied with
one another, they were bound to hear her, or see the blue glow of the
camera.  Ivana made her way silently back outside the school building, and
leaving the exhausted pair behind.
   ...
   Outside it was still barren, empty and cold.  Ivana found herself almost
ghost walking back to the gymnasium, back to her husband George, somewhat
in shock from what she saw.  Jenny Summers, the Queen of Coxville, caught
on tape being fucked senseless, thoroughly broken into by one of the
biggest, blackest men she had ever seen.  Biggest in every conceivable way
and sense of the word.  The image of the man's huge penis still burned in
her mind.  It was so potent she had to stop, move off to the side of the
walkway, and rewind the footage.  She had to get another look at it, of
him. Clear images of his muscles, cock, balls, Jenny's tight robust and
curvy body bent over, her pussy getting pounded.  The moans, curses, sweat
and loud smashing sounds all of it was captured on the camcorder.  Jenny
Summers, little miss perfect by everyone's standards, reduced to a panting,
sweaty, slattern.  If everyone found out about this side of Jenny, this
dirty wanton persona that had been unveiled this night, they'd...The idea
formed in Ivana's brain before she even knew it.  This is it, thought. 
That's it, I've got it.  She held the key to her greatest rival's demise
right in her hands.  This was the bit of proof she needed.  The greatest
weapon to her competition's fall literally rested in Ivana's hands.  Ivana
rewound the footage, shut the camcorder off, and walked back to the
gymnasium with a wide, genuine smile on her face.  There was an extra
bounce to her step as she walked back into the gym and up the flight to her
aisle.
   "Where are the chili fries?" asked George with childlike pout on his
face.
   Oh darn, I forgot all about George's disgusting chili fries, she
thought.
   "I'm sorry hun, they were fresh out at the concessions stand", she lied.
"They'll probably have another batch ready by half time.
   "Oh...alright then", said George, the same pout etched across his face.
   God, he was such a baby when he couldn't have things his way, Ivana
thought.  Harold leaned forward and looked at Ivana.
   "How was Jenny?" He asked.
   "Wh-what?" stammered Ivana.
   "How was Jenny doing at the concession stand?  You saw her there right?"
   "Oh...I...I didn't see her."
   A strange look crossed Harold's face, a question mark almost forming
atop his head that was soon replaced with an expression of worry.  If only
Harold knew how much of a dirty whore his perfect little wife was, Ivana
thought to herself.  Knew how filthy and perverted she really was, doing
that huge sweaty black man...that huge, sweaty, incredibly built black
man...that huge, sweaty, incredibly built black man, and that giant black
penis of his.  Ivana lost herself in the thought of it again.  Her green
eyes glazed over, falling into space at the memory of that huge mass of
ebony flesh ramming itself into Jenny's pink pussy, again and
again...unmercifully.  It was then that for a brief moment Ivana had a very
strange thought.  In her mind's eye she pictured the black man in his
entire adonic splendor.  She imagined his huge member, ramming itself
relentlessly, unmercifully into a pink open slit, doing the exact same act
with all its intensity.  Though only instead of the pink open slit
belonging to that whore Jenny, in her place, the one being thrashed
relentlessly...was Ivana.
   With that a long, toe curling jolt of electricity went from Ivana's
head, and sunk down all the way down her back, and flooding in between her
legs.  The feeling would have made her black lace panties wet with her own
juices...if they hadn't already been soaked with leavings of Ivana's prior
excitement that came while recording Jenny's scandalous behavior.  The plan
had formed in Ivana's mind seemingly with an instant.  The entire plan
laying itself out in a single detailed image in her mind.  She would
finally expose Jenny for the dirty slut Ivana always knew she was, that was
a promise.  If Ivana had moved, felt herself, the fabric of her black
skirt, she undoubtedly would have noticed how drenched her panties were,
right when the buzzer signaling half time went off in a loud blare,
echoing, and cutting through the cheers within the Coxville High gymnasium,
the scoreboard reading 24 to 8.
   ...
   Training.
   The sun was just setting over Coxville County.  The bird chirps that
assailed the orange sky were slowly fading out, and being replaced with the
faint baying of dogs as they barked in far off distances.  The sprinklers
in the Summer's house had just shut off, leaving wet dew on the lawn of an
almost emerald hue when seen at particular angles, and cast reflections of
the sun onto the idle beads sitting atop the thousands of blades of grass.
The house was large and lavish, though something that one who lived in the
community would consider typical, down to the white picket fence and
centered welcome mat written in cursive.  Inside Jenny Summers set a tray
of ice down on the living room table that sat in front of the large white
couch, which was on the opposite side of the large flat screen television
that was mounted on the wall, just above the collection of old football and
new golf trophies that sat arranged in order of year in a brown oak mantle
case.  Stationed just below the television and in between the mantle case,
was a DVD player that had been affixed to the wall for easy use.  To the
immediate left of the couch sat Harold's favorite reclining chair, a
luxurious brown piece that had fallen into the "do not touch" category the
very day he had bought it.  On the opposite end of the chair, to the right
of the couch, was a smaller couch used to sit guests, positioning them in a
semi circle around the glass table.
   "Ivy" called Jenny, "you almost finished with that lemonade?  The girl's
will be here any minute".  The gorgeous blonde set the ice tray down on the
glass table.
   "I know when the girls are supposed to be here Jenny, I can keep track
of time you know.  And yes, I'm almost finished", the equally beautiful
brunette Ivana snapped back.
   Jenny walked over to the couch, fluffing out a couple of the seating
pillows and aligning them.  Ivana Swallows meanwhile was in the kitchen,
putting the final stirs on a pitcher of lemonade with a large brown spoon.
   "Oh Ivy, you have the movie right?  I thought I'd placed it on the couch
awhile ago, but now its not here" said Jenny.
   A slight smirk crossed Ivana's face upon hearing this.
   "Oh?  No I haven't.  You sure you didn't put it someplace else?"
   "No, I could have sworn I'd brought it here earlier", Jenny replied.
   Ivana finished stirring the lemonade, and grabbed the pitcher by its
handle.  She walked into the living room, each step with an audible clunk
from her high heels, a less than convincing perplexed look on her face as
though to express confusion as she looked over to the couch, and at the
empty space where the now disappeared DVD was.
   "Well it isn't there now", said Ivana in response.
   Jenny had a hand buried in the side of the couch, combing it from side
to side to see if the DVD she'd been looking for had somehow fallen in
between the spaces.  After a few moments of less that successful searching,
she came up empty handed and frustrated, and placed her hands on her hips.
   "Darn'it, I know I had it here somewhere", said Jenny.
   "Hmmm" began Ivana in the appearance of thought.  "Why don't you retrace
your steps?  I mean it didn't just get up and walk away after all."
   Jenny hesitated for a moment and then nodded her head.
   "Yeah, you're right.  Let me go double check the bedroom, maybe I left
it there."
   Jenny Summers wore a white, tight fitting blouse that was tucked into an
even tighter fitting black skirt that ended just at mid thigh, showing off
her taught legs and wide hips.  As she turned from the couch and headed
towards the main hallway and to her bedroom, Ivana caught a full side
profile glimpse of Jenny's body as she left the living room...and a part of
her twitched at the sight.  Over the last weeks Ivana had begun to notice
that her long time rival Jenny had put on a couple pounds.  Nothing drastic
and hardly noticeable, but for Ivana noticeable all the same.  Certain
parts of her were a bit softer and puffier than usual.  Her face didn't
showcase her immaculate high cheekbones nearly as much as it used to - her
chin developing the scantest bit of pudginess near the jowl area.  Her
waist and thighs weren't as slim, not as tight as they used to be, which
must have attributed to how tight fitting her blouse and skirt now were. 
However, Ivana's disgust did not spawn from repulsion towards Jenny's
softer, less toned appearance.  She was angry because, somehow, these new
"imperfections", if they could called as such, had made Jenny look...dare
Ivana thought...better.  The extra facial and body weight that was now on
Jenny, somehow made her appear...younger, more youthful and giving her face
a more girlish appearance.  One who had somehow ceased aging in the face at
the cusp of womanhood, while body still bloomed magnificently into a near
perfect figure.  Her jowl area, now a bit more full, extenuated more of her
natural beauty, capturing the curves of her full lips, and the contours of
her chin, nose, and giving her bright blue eyes more of a foreground to be
taken notice of when looking at her.
   And more still was the fact that the added bit of weight to her body had
- in what seemed to be in total contradiction to Ivana- made her appear
more physically healthy and voluptuous than before.  An hourglass would not
have served as a decent description of her shape.  Her breasts, still
large, still round (if not moreso now), had maintained their natural shape
an appearance of softness.  They still curved upward near the nipple, and
they still held a natural bounce as Jenny walked down the hall.  They were
held tightly in place by the fabric of the blouse, while her waist and
stomach didn't bulge as one would expect with weight gained, but merely
distributed the weight in equal measure throughout her entire body.  Her
mid section had gotten a bit wider, but so did her hips, ass, thighs, and
legs in accommodation.  Jenny had just gotten bigger overall, with the
muscle she had from before holding the extra meat firmly in place.  The
weight gain had taken the shape of mass more than bulk, making Jenny
resemble more of a super-heroine rather than a swelling whore, some sort of
finely aged goddess from Norse mythology rather than a low class fraud who
hadn't been watching her diet as of late.  And what perhaps disturbed Ivana
the most, was that glow Jenny now seemed exude.  Over the last few weeks
Ivana had started to take note of a kind of...radiance emitting from Jenny.
   She always appeared to have a slight sheen to her skin.  A natural glow
that gave her pallor a healthy looking tint of pink, that in turn
emphasized Jenny's long golden hair.  When she smiled, showcased her set of
pearly white teeth, her entire visage beamed.  It was the kind of glow
Ivana noticed a woman would have after a long hot bath or stint at the spa,
or...Ivana thought to herself, the glow you get after having really good
sex, she finished, biting off the thought as quickly as it came.  Ivana did
not know this sort of glow herself really, at the very least not as well as
Jenny had proven to, but her and her girlfriends in the past had always
noticed, somehow consciously been able to read the physical signs of their
peers after one of them had had a particularly enjoyable romp with one of
the male (and in some rare cases female) students.
   It pissed Ivana off to no end.  The slut went around doing god knows
what with other men...black men at that, and somehow managed to look
healthier, better for it?  The mere notion made Ivana's stomach turn.  She
toiled night and day to maintain her physique.  She scrutinized and
calculated every single morsel and calorie of food she put into her body,
while of course all Jenny Summers had to do was sleep around and swallow
black spunk to look just as good (and then some).  And for it, everyone in
Coxville loved her, little miss perfect Jenny Summers.
   Ivana's fists clenched for a moment.  Clenched, and then released.  She
let the anger slip, pass from her in a single exhalation of inner heat. 
It's alright, she thought to herself.  Everything is fine.  Jenny won't
look at all like the rosy little princess that everyone sees her as after
tonight, that's for damn sure.
   After a few moments Ivana poked her head into the hallway, making sure
Jenny was out of sight before she made her move.  Quickly as her step in
heels would permit, she strode down the hallway, her enormous tanned
breasts bouncing slightly with her pace, and over to the coat rack that
stood next the front door.  She went through the pockets of her brown
jacket, one she had brought there earlier that day and had hung on the
rack. From one of the deeper inner pockets, she retrieved a slim black
jewel disc case, with a silver DVD inside titled "Coxville Book Club Film".
From another pocket in her coat, Ivana withdrew another jewel case with a
DVD inside, and it too read "Coxville Book Club Film".  The two discs were
identical, except for one minor difference.  On the second DVD there was a
small period made at the end of the title, a dark subtle mark that only
Ivana would recognize between the two discs.
   Ivana's plan was simple, though she had gone through each step in her
head meticulously, over and over again that entire week.  Ivana's
objective, the destruction of her best friend and greatest rival Jenny
Summers, was about to commence.  After years of bringing up the rear
socially, Ivana now had all the pieces assembled to turn the tables of her
seemingly inescapable station as Coxville's second best woman, the primary
piece to the plot having been given to her by Jenny's own hand.  The plan
had taken shape from the events of what had happened the previous week
during a Coxville High basketball game.  In short, Jenny, a married mother,
had been caught - discovered in the most crass and crude of methods - with
a very large, very black man in one of the school rooms on campus.  Ivana -
who had stumbled upon the act - had filmed the disgusting display with the
new camcorder her husband George had bought not long before.  The panting
and puffing, grunts, groans, and cussing, loud slams of flesh on flesh, and
base animalistic behavior, had all been captured on high definition film,
immortalizing Jenny's true whorish self.  After the deed was done, both
parties spent, Ivana had taken the footage home, and through a bit of
searching on the internet for instruction, and a quick trip to the local
electronic store, had succeeded in making a DVD copy of the act.  Jenny,
the Queen of Coxville as many called her, would be exposed for the lowly
fraud that Ivana had always known she was.  And the forum for this
unveiling would be held at none other than the whore's own house, in front
of her best friends, who just so happened to be the loudest band of gossips
in the county.
   The girls in the Coxville Book Club had been gathering on a weekly basis
for almost a year now.  It had begun with idle chit chat one day between
Ivana, and Mrs.  Bianca Blackwood in the faculty lounge at Coxville High
where they worked.  Bianca, being a teacher and also adept with keeping in
shape, and Ivana being the head school nurse, would often engage in idle
tete a tete on topics pertaining to diet, their workout regimens, the state
of nutrition (or lack thereof) in the school, and other topics of interest
that they both shared.  One day the two women were discussing their
thoughts on a contemporary fiction novel - a modern romance that they had
both found particularly intriguing.  Eventually during the conversation,
Jenny Summers - much to Ivana's dismay - had been brought into the
conversation by Bianca, after discovering Jenny had also read the novel. 
Bianca asked for her thoughts on the ending, one which Jenny found the
happy ending of the story to be an unrealistic, on account that the blue
eyed and fair haired male protagonist did not seem to be nearly as
masculine, or as physically equipped to satisfy the needs of his tall, dark
haired female counterpart.
   "He just didn't seem...well...manly enough for her.  I mean all that
crying he did near the end during that rain storm, and the way they
described him physically just made him seem so...pale and skinny, built
like more of little boy than a man.  Not nearly enough for a tall fit girl
like her", said Jenny with matter of fact fervor.
   This in turn struck up a small debate between Jenny and Ivana on their
separate takes on some of the finer points of dialogue and plot found in
the story.  They went on for the entire span of their lunch break about the
characters, their interpretations of the imagery and their metaphors, as
well as what they felt was an incredibly erotic use of superlative language
in certain prose.  By the time they had finished, they were so enamored
with the discussion they had decided to reconvene at a later time so that
they may continue it.  A discrepancy in scheduling made it difficult for
the three women to find time for them to all meet up in the lounge at the
same time.  Jenny was swamped, what with her taxing instructional duties as
cheerleading coach, and Ivana and Bianca had their own affairs to attend
to. After a minute or two of comparing conflicting schedules, the trio
decided that they would meet the following week, not at the school, but at
Jenny's house, at a time when all three women would have a few spare hours
to their name.  Smilingly, the girls (Ivana included out of fear of seeming
like a killjoy) had agreed.
   The following week Ivana and Bianca arrived to Jenny's house. 
Unexpectedly in tow was Sammy Spitzmen - the young redheaded girl who lived
next door to Ivana, who had been informed of the meeting just after a
rigorous workout with Ivana at the local gym they both frequented - and
Anya White - the tall dark haired wife of Bianca's neighbor Tom White. 
Sammy - having hours of free time to spare that evening, and still bursting
with energy even after having finished the majority of her chores at her
suburban home as a newly married housewife - decided to tag along with
Ivana, despite her admittedly limited knowledge of the book that was to be
the evening's main course of discussion.  Anya, a tall and curvaceous woman
of remarkable beauty not commonly found in Coxville, had decided to
accompany Bianca after speaking to her on the phone, on the grounds she
merely wished to be out of her house for a few of hours.  Being born not a
member of the Coxville community, but a foreigner from a small,
unpronounceable town somewhere in Romania, she saw the meeting as an
opportunity to befriend a few of the local townswomen, and establish a
cluster of people of whom she could perhaps call her friends.  Having also
read most of the book herself, a practice of her own making to develop her
still budding skills with the English language, Anya had decided the
meeting would be a refreshing event to take part in.
   Despite several spills of lemonade and blunders with kitchenware onto
the floor from the clumsy Sammy, - who was all left feet unless exercising
- and the difficult language barrier found in communicating ideas to the
thick accented Anya, the gathering couldn't have been any more joyous.  The
girls exchanged thoughts, ideas, and voiced discrepancies with one another.
They filled Sammy in on the details of the novel that she didn't quite
understand, and Jenny and Ivana had engaged in a particularly lively
debate, once again over the plot's ending, that only ceased after Bianca
intervened.  Before they knew it, the moon had risen and Jenny's husband
Harold had returned home, weary after a long day at the office.  With his
arrival, the girls decided that they'd conclude their gathering, but pick
up the discussion the following week, same time, same place.  And thus the
Coxville Book Club was born.
   As the women talked more and more during the club meeting's interim,
they passed on knowledge of other novels that they thought one another
would be interested in.  This pattern of passing information became
routine, and before the ladies knew it, they were reading almost a book a
week.  Jenny in the comfort of her bed at night next to her snoring
husband, Ivana during the waning quiet hours in her office at the school,
Bianca in her classroom whilst taking a break from the arduous, often
irksome task of grading less than stellar papers and essays, Anya after a
taxing yoga session or an argument with Tom, and Sammy while cycling or
during a less intense portion of her daily workout routine.  Over the
course of that year they had discussed dozens of books, and held over
dozens of conversations.  Things had progressed in much the same pattern
that entire year, all the way up until now, with Ivana swapping the second
disc into the case of the other, and vice versa, and placing the switched
DVD not into her own coat pocket, but into Jenny's, which had been hung
right next to Ivana's.
   Things, for a time, were good for the girls.  Good, yet not without
their own stint of tribulation.  The few more recent weeks had been
something of a low point for the club.  Interesting though the discourse
amongst invariably girls was, though the novels they read kept them fairly
entertained in the duller hours of their everyday lives, the ladies
couldn't help but feel the faint approach of boredom creep closer and
closer upon them with each gathering.  No amount of intriguing literature
could banish the strain of routine after all, as all the women soon began
to realize, though kept quiet amongst themselves for fear of sounding like
a nag.  Meeting again, week after week, had turned into a habit.  With that
habit came the feeling of mundaity, and with the feeling of the mundane
came a hesitance to attend.  Conversation grew stale, subject matter and
context began to lose meaning and worth, and the girls soon found
themselves in an increasing number of prolonged silences.  To bolster their
spirits with a change of scenery, the girls decided to rotate the hosting
houses from week to week.  One week would be held at another girl's house,
from Ivana to Sammy, Sammy to Bianca, Bianca to Anya, and Anya back to
Jenny.  They changed the genre of books they read from contemporary romance
to fantasy, thriller, some horror, and even a spot of science fiction by
Sammy's suggestion.  This served to create more discrepancies amongst the
group than it did strengthening bonds.  The subject matter was just too
broad, left people either torn, dissatisfied, or wholly confused.  Soon
they decided to jump more into tales of classic origin, and to give the
club a bit of a jolt to their sessions, they decided to add film to format
in order to spice things up visually.
   The plan this week for the book club was to watch a film version of the
most recent novel they had been reading, a period piece about a single
mother raising her children, and finding a new romance in a wounded soldier
guilty of desertion in the south during the Civil War.  After watching the
film, they would discuss their thoughts, and compare its contents to the
novel.  It was a sure fire method to get the girls talking again, to get
them interested again.  Ivana however, had a different film in mind for the
evening.  One that would most certainly get the girls talking.  In the
event Jenny decided to place the blame on her for switching the DVDs -
transfer the outright guilt of unveiling the craven carnal appetites
harbored by the blonde to Ivana's questionable tactics of deception - the
evidence being found in her own pocket would ruin any remaining credibility
that was to be salvaged.  Their peers, after seeing what was on the planted
DVD, would most likely be too shocked, too appalled by the footage, to give
any credence to Jenny's claims.
   It would be considered a product of Jenny's own lack of caution in
labeling such a lewd video of her being engaged in such abominable acts, an
attempt to dupe Jenny's husband Harold should he come across the DVD and
wonder of its content.  Surely he'd find nothing suspicious in Coxville
Book Club Film being written on such an unassuming disc.  And by the time
the footage was shown, its contents showcased, and the accompanying fallout
from its unveiling exploded, would the particulars of how the DVD came to
be, or how it came to replace the original film really matter?  The
identity of the mysterious third party who recorded their tryst wouldn't
take precedence over the film's footage, nor would Jenny's lax skills in
hiding her depraved trophy of the act count for much in the court of her
peers.  Possession is 9/10s of the law, and the evidence being 100% true in
regards to the female participant's identity would be two strikes out of
three for the blonde haired harlot.  In switching the DVDs, Ivana was
setting a fire that would finally burn her long time rival to her very
foundation, ashes to ashes.  Her peers, her best friends, after seeing how
disgusting Jenny really was, would turn their backs on the blonde in sheer
revulsion.  Word would surely spread through the teacher's lounge in low
grumbles, through the gym, through phone calls and so forth, about why the
girls had suddenly decided to erase Jenny from their list of friends.  What
with the town being so small, and the lips of the other girls being so
loose when it came to gossip, ripples were sure to follow.  Jenny's
reputation would be annihilated, the facts and proof laid out for all to
see, and after the subsequent divorce from an outraged and heartbroken
Harold, Jenny would remain as a scarlet shaded slattern, the blonde pariah
of Coxville.  The social leper, who's true, tarnished colors shone for
everyone to see.  It would be glorious, and it made the smirk on Ivana's
face twist into a smile resembling that of a busty Cheshire cat.
   It sent ripples of pleasure throughout her body, a twinge of excitement
for the execution to begin.  It wasn't evil, wasn't petty or cruel if it
was for the reputation of the town, Ivana had told herself numerous times
since making the duplicate DVD.  What she was doing was a service to her
town, exposing indecency for what it truly was.  And what was on that DVD,
the raw, sweaty, loud, forceful display Ivana had seen, was indecency at
it's most potent.  So potent that numerous times Ivana had secretly wanted
to watch the footage again to grasp what it was on camera that in person
left her so awe struck.  Despite her innate nodding to put the DVD in, to
push play outright to see it, Jenny and that big hulk of a man, him pushing
his enormous...thing into her with the subtlety of a mating bull...his
huge...Ivana shook herself out of the trance.  Disgusting, she thought to
herself.
   Ivana could hear Jenny riffling through things in her room.  It made her
jump, thinking that perhaps Jenny was returning to the living room. 
Hastening her pace, she walked back over to the couch, and lifted one of
the pillows that had been sitting there.  She placed the second DVD, the
one with the period, onto the couch, just between the seats to avoid any
lingering suspicion of it randomly disappearing and reappearing again out
of thin air.  Jenny would equate the finding of the item to her simply
overlooking the lesser explored crevasse of the couch.  By the time the
footage was played, it would be far too late for Jenny to deny or protest.
Just as she settled the DVD in its place, and put the pillow back on top of
it, Ivana heard the sharp ding-dong of the doorbell.
   "That's them!" shouted Jenny from the other room.
   "Alright, I'm finishing up this lemonade Jen, let them on in and we'll
find it afterwards", replied Ivana.  She scampered away from the couch and
back into the kitchen just as Jenny strode through the hallway and towards
the front door.
   Jenny tugged and pulled at her clothes a bit, adjusted the pin that held
up her hair, and she opened the door to a high pitched hail of voices.
   "Hey girl!" squealed Sammy.
   "Helloo!" said Bianca.
   "Yenny!" said Anya in her thick eastern European accent.
   "Hey girls!" said Jenny with a bright smile.  "Come on in."
   She hugged each girl as they walked in, each woman holding matching
copies of a book as they passed the threshold.  As the four of them walked
through the foyer the living room, Ivana had just been making her way out
of the kitchen with the cold pitcher of lemonade, seemingly for the first
time in several minutes.
   "Hey ya'll" said Ivana.
   She set the pitcher down lightly on the glass table, and made her way
around the room, giving hugs to the other girls.  Some idle talk,
compliments on one another's outfit and their origin were passed around. 
The girls laughed, making small talk about the goings on of their day, the
strenuous nature of their workout at the gym, their frustrations with
certain students at school, and the lack of appreciation from their husband
and/or respect from their stepsons.  When the girls finally got settled,
Jenny stated that there was a slight problem in finding the film of the
evening, bringing up the disappearance of the DVD they were supposed to
watch that night.
   "You mean this one?" said Sammy almost immediately in her typical
girlish tone.
   She sat up slightly in her seat on the couch, lifting herself up from
one of the pillows she had been sitting against, and felt something hard
and somewhat pointy against the cushioning.  Low and behold, Sammy had
found the missing DVD, holding up the black jewel case and disc inscribed
with the words "Coxville Book Club Film." in bold dark marker.
   "Oh, that's it!" said Jenny in surprise.  "I swear I near tore that
couch apart looking for it."
   "Well, obviously you didn't look well enough hun", said Ivana a more
smug expression than perhaps merited, a smirk painted her face and
reflected in her green eyes perhaps more than she intended to convey.
   "Well...I suppose so.  Oh well, we found it so that's all that matters."
Said Jenny briskly.  "Ya'll girls ready to get started?"
   That's weird, I could have sworn I checked under each pillow, Jenny
thought to herself.
   "Oh absolutely, I've been waiting for this all week", said Bianca. 
Sigh...I hope this doesn't go on for too long tonight, I've still got a
mountain of papers to grade thought Bianca.
   "Yep, let's get this show on the road!" said Sammy enthusiastically,
somewhat bouncing in her seat like a teenage girl.  Did I forget to turn
the porch light before I left?  I could have sworn I did?  What time did
Steve say he was coming home tonight?  Early I think.  I hope he's not too
exhausted tonight, rambled Sammy in a no specific pattern in her mind.
   "Ya, I can't vait", said Anya.  I'm yust glad to be avay from Tum and
zat leetle preek Tood she thought to herself.
   Jenny took the DVD, and walked over to the television mounted on the far
wall.  Using the remote she turned on the flat screen TV, and with the same
remote activated the DVD player.  The screen illuminated in a brilliant
high definition shade of bright blue.  The girls gathered in their seats,
Anya, Sammy, and Bianca sitting on the middle couch, while Ivana stood just
in front of Harold's reclining chair, too excited, too enthralled with the
promise of the oncoming storm.
   "Everyone keeps telling me the movie was better than the book", said
Jenny with her back to the girls.
   "Yes, it's gotten very favorable reviews thus far.  I'm actually really
excited to see it for myself", said Bianca.
   "How'd you manage to get a copy of it so early Jen", came Sammy. 
"Didn't this only just come out a couple weeks ago?"
   Jenny bent over and forward a bit, placing the DVD into the player and
pushing the open/close button on the right side of the machine.  Her
posture and position reminded Ivana of that night, bent over on the science
lab table.  She had to shake her head again to oust the image.
   "Well", Jenny began with a hint of hesitance.  "I've got a friend who
works for the S.A.G.  We were talking one day, and I got around to telling
him we were reading the book, and he told me that he was reviewing the film
version.  It went against a rule or two, but I was able to convince him to
let us borrow his copy for a night to use in the club meeting.  That's why
I was so panicked about it being lost.  It's his only copy."
   Did you fuck him too, you slut?  Thought Ivana.
   "Wow Jenny, you've got connections", said Sammy in tone that hinted of
admiration.
   Jenny and the other girls laughed, while Ivana stood silent.  Once the
DVD was in the player, the opening slid shut, and small text on the upper
left corner of the screen read "play" in bold white letters.  This is it,
thought Ivana.
   "Well, maybe one or two.  He's already seen it for his review, so he
didn't see any harm in letting up use it for tonight."
   "Alright girls, here we go, this is gonna be good", said Jenny as she
turned and made her way towards Harold's reclining chair.  Jenny had been
told numerous times of his desire for his chair to be unused by anyone else
aside from himself, however Jenny had time and time again showed little to
no concern for such a request, especially these days it seemed.
   "S'cuse me Ivy" said Jenny stepping passed Ivana to get to the chair.
   The girls all leaned forward in anticipation, Ivana stood just next to
Jenny as she swung her large curvy bottom into Harold's recliner, and sat
on its edge.
   "Ivy, vhy do you still stand?" asked Anya looking over to Ivana.  "Com,
seat." She said, placing her hand on the open space on the couch.
   "Oh I'm fine Anya" replied Ivana with a light smile.  "I was just gonna
grab a glass from the kitchen."
   And with that Ivana turned and headed towards the kitchen, making her
presence less known as she slipped out.  The blue screen turned to black
for a long moment, as the DVD player read the data on the disc.
   "Hurry Ivy it's starting", called Sammy.
   She waited, listened, and stilled herself as much as she could with
anticipation.  After another long pause, the silence of the room was broken
by precession of audible grunting, pants, and moans that Ivana knew to be
familiar from the other room.  The video had started, and for a moment she
swore from the kitchen she had heard a simultaneous gasp from the girls at
once.  A collective breath of shock from the living room as the various
noises filled the area.  As the loud pounding noises commenced, the deep
baritone of the black man's voice vibrated in the surround sound, before
the familiar accompanying female voice chimed in with,
   "Oh shit!  You're burying that big black cock so DEEP!"
   Ivana could hear the soundtrack of the video playing in the other room,
each sound emphasized by the surround sound speakers positioned at
different points in the room.  She had to clamp a hand over her mouth to
keep herself from laughing out.  It was happening, it was really happening.
Jenny Summers was being destroyed at this very moment.  Ivana wanted to
rush back into the living room to see the expression, the look of stark
terror on her face in being exposed in front of the others.  She wanted to
laugh, jump around and poke a finger in Jenny's face with an exclamatory
"HA!" However, despite her innate want to capitalize on the fall of her
rival, and the...odd..  truly odd sensation of warmth that started pulsing
through Ivana's body in response to the noises, the slapping of what she
knew to be dark honed muscle slamming against soft white skin.  The
sensation crept from her head, to her chest, her nipples now hardening
slightly for some reason.  She noticed now her heart was beating quicker
than normal, the feeling, a deep warmth going down to her stomach, her
legs, and then back up her thighs to give a rush of heat to her"Ugh!  You
like dat big ol nigga dick stretchin out yo pussy huh, dirty white bitch?!"
   The phrase sent another strange pulse through Ivana's body.  She turned
and began making her way back into the living room in haste, all the focus
in the room undoubtedly being directed to the screen, which she now wanted
to see for herself (again) as well.  Oh shit, the glass, she remembered. 
She opened the cabinet and retrieved a small glass from the middle space,
closed it, and walked out towards the living room once again.  A part of
her was surprised that none of the girls, Jenny especially had jumped up
and hit the stop button on the DVD player.  I mean, Ivana did admit that
the footage was rather...shocking.  The vision held you in place in much
the same way watching a car crash or watching a building explode would. 
Not a single person in the living room stirred, moved, or spoke from
Ivana's angle as she crept back into the room.  Now, for a bit of acting on
my part, thought Ivana.
   "Did any of you girls want any-", an abrupt pause.  She gave a practiced
gasp of shock intended to imply that she had been taken off guard from
seeing the footage for first time, which in effect wasn't entirely untrue
to her she thought.
   Ivana had forced herself to not look at the video again since the night
of the game when it was first captured on the camcorder.  Perhaps from some
sort of irrational fear that she would somehow be tainted by the images if
she subjected herself to it again.  Since then, the whole ordeal had
distorted into merely a kaleidoscopic slew of abstract parts of images. 
Animalistic grunts and cuss words, single muddled shots of body parts and
patches of sweat had replaced the entire memory of the ordeal, leaving just
particular...feelings in their place that Ivana thought was strange for
her. Strange, because of their habit to cause her heart to race, and
equally (if not more so), strange because the sensation of her heart racing
in the manner on hand, was often associated to her wanting sex.  And now,
days later, all the pieces had now reassembled before Ivana into a singular
panoramic image.  However this didn't help the fact that she had caught
herself thinking about more times than even she was willing to admit to
herself.  The crystal clear images of the black man, his gargantuan penis
plunging itself into Jenny's pink muff now recaptured, this time perhaps
even more thoroughly, the intensity of their fucking.  Yet another surge
went through Ivana's spine as she reached the open space of the living
room, the jolt so strong this time upon seeing once again the black stud
giving it to Jenny without a shred of mercy, that she actually dropped the
small glass that was in her hand.  It hit the hardwood floor with a sharp
crash, which oddly made Ivana's surprise now seem more genuine.  This crap
can't possibly be turning me on, Ivana thought whilst trying to collect
herself.  As she did she noticed the slight feeling of dampness between her
legs.
   "Fuck!  You're gonna make me cum on that huge motherfucker!"
   "Ugh, yeah, I'm bout to nut too baby."
   Still silence persisted outside the soundtrack of Jenny's writhing and
the black man's grunting.  Ivana wanted to observe the faces of the other
girls, but she couldn't manage to pull herself away from the images that
paraded in front of her.  It was just so...so
   "Oh yes!  That's it baby, pound that pussy.  Give me that hot white
nigger load!"
   "AAAGH FUUUCK!"
   The same climax, the same close up shot of the black man's huge member
flopping out of Jenny's beaten hot pink pussy, thick white globs dribbling
profusely from the opening of a cock head the size of a fist.  The same
motion of Jenny quickly turning and falling to her knees, taking the
bulbous thing into her mouth.  The same thick liquid pumping into and down
her mouth and throat, her head bobbing furiously in the process.  The same
white remains dribbling down her chin and onto her heaving tits.
   "GARRGH!"
   The intensity waning, tilting back into but a steady pair of exhausted
breaths.  Ivana had intended to savor the next part, drink the next bit of
dialogue in as though it were the last dregs of a fine rare wine.  But she
was too occupied with her own physical situation.  The wetness that now
soiled her white cotton panties.
   "Ma cousin Jerome was right.  You one bad bitch Mrs.  Summers.  Shit, I
ain't neva seen a white bitch take all ma meat like dat beefo".
   And the piece de resistance, the cherry on top, the killing blow.
   "Please...call me Jenny", came the woman in the video between bouts of
licking and sucking on the man's softening, but still monstrous dick head,
her face now in full view of the camera.  "What was your name again?"
   The rest fell into a blur due to a lack of relevance.  The climax had
hit, the countdown reaching zero, and when Ivana finally turned her head
away from the glowing screen, she surveyed a room filled with only a host
of ghost white, jaw dropped, effeminate faces.  Sammy, Bianca, and Anya
sitting next to each other on the couch, frozen as though they were statues
made of pure ice.  Their eyes glued to the screen all the way up to the
final frame and eventually cut to blue, the word "stop" appearing on the
upper left side of the screen.
   ...
   No one spoke, no one uttered a word.  Ivana looked down to Harold's
reclining chair and at the snow white face of Jenny Summers, her rival-or
rather- her ex-rival.  When Jenny finally spoke again, it seemed distant,
tiny and on the cusp of being ethereal.
   "Girls I...I"
   Ivana crossed her arms under her enormous breasts in triumph.  She had
done it, Jenny was finished.  There was no way she could deny this.  Not a
chance in hell she'd deny being the woman in the video, not with the camera
showing such a clear shot of her face, all slimy and covered with thick
white emissions.  A state and position far worse than one being caught with
their hand in the cookie jar.
   "Well..." began Ivana, breaking the long stint of silence and trying to
keep her face as straight and stern as possible.  "Jenny...I just don't
know what to say.  I'm shocked really."
   To this the other three girls finally brought themselves out of their
stupor to nod at Ivana's statement.  All of them leering at Jenny, all of
their faces wearing the same wordless O of shock.
   "To think you were capable of something so...I mean...what in your right
mind would posses you to...sigh...I can't even put the words together."
   Ivana was coaxing the other girls into joining in, to fill in the blanks
of her purposely broken sentences.
   The girls only nodded to mark that they agreed.  They were still quiet,
but all of them were listening, present, and in complete compliance to
Ivana's every word.  Ivana suspected they would be as such from now on,
what with their great heroine Jenny Summers now being torn down from her
pedestal, and Ivana being the only acceptable choice remaining to lead
them. Fitting actually, more than fitting, perfect, she thought.
   "So ladies..." she said, looking over to the three on the couch.  Ivana
dropped what little resistance towards gloating, "do you have anything to
say to Mrs.  Perfect?" There was no point in holding back now.  All Ivana
would have to do, with the explosion already set and ready, would be to
strike the match.  It was, surprisingly, Sammy who spoke up first out of
the trio, an O still formed on her tiny mouth.
   "Jenny..." came Sammy in a mousy tone.
   Here it comes, thought Ivana.
   "Good Lord, girl!" she then blurted out.
   "I- I had no idea you could, that was- I'm-" stammered Bianca.
   "My verd Yenny-"
   "That was...THE..." her mouth emphasizing the word "the".
   Its happening chimed Ivana in her mind.
   "Yes Jenny" began Ivana "that was purely-", but she was cut again by
Sammy
   A key characteristic of Sammy Spitzmen was that whenever she was truly
awestruck, her bright green eyes would widen and beam with an incandescent
shine.  She resembled a girl on Christmas morning that had just walked down
to her living room to find a pony, a brand new princess dress, and a
full-fledged castle waiting for her.  This was the expression of pure glee
and amazement that was painted on her face when she shot right up from the
couch.
   In response, Anya rose from her seat with a similar expression that
almost had the same degree of wonder and enthusiasm, while Bianca remained
seated.
   "My goodness Yenny..." said Anya while shaking her head.
   "...Did not know you ver such...such intense zexual, such power,
increduble."
   "Well..." Bianca said adjusting her black round rimmed glasses.
   "What about your husband?"
   Bianca will back me up for sure, thought Ivana to herself.  She's the
most conservative woman I know.  She'll think what Jenny's doing is
unforgivable...I'm sure of it!
   "Fuget er usband," interrupted Anya with a biting tone to her voice. 
"He's probably a yerk too!"
   "Well..." Bianca said lowly.  "It's...certainly not what I was
expecting."
   Here it comes!  She always starts off calmly before digging into
someone, thought Ivana.  Despite her certainty of Bianca's response, a
distant part of the brunette crossed her fingers.
   "I mean...I know we've had something of a drought in terms of
interesting topics as of late.  But for you to have a side-lover outside of
marriage is extreme in and of itself, but with a BLACK man Jenny?  and in
Coxville of all places?!
   Jenny gulped in response to the sensation of her throat drying up. 
Ivana reveled in seeing her nemesis squirm, watching her stew in the hot
seat of scrutiny for a change.  It was a delicious sight that left the hint
of a delectable flavor on the brunette's tongue that caused her to subtly
lick her full lips.  YES!  Ivana cheers mentally.  She folds her arms to
signal to Bianca that she was on her side.
   "If nothing else it's certainly a bold move!  And if there's one thing
that we've learned during this year in our club, it's that pushing
boundaries are often quite useful in maintaining the interest of your
audience."
   Bianca said this with a raised right index finger in an exclamatory
gesture, as though she were back in the classroom giving a lecture to her
students.
   "...And to go as far as to film the event, just to push the idea of a
novel plot...well, I don't know if you're crazy bold or just plain crazy,
girl."
   The three women eyed Jenny, however it was not with the disgusted
accusatory scowls that Ivana had originally envisioned.  Sammy stood almost
on the tips of her toes before Jenny like an excited puppy dog about to go
for a walk.  Her face didn't display the outrage that she'd originally
expected.
   "The plot?"
   Jenny replied with her frozen state of terror now broken by a look that
bridges confusion and surprise at the accolades that she was now receiving.
I can't believe they're taking this so well.
   "Yes, Jenny..." came Bianca, knocking Jenny from her thought.
   "The plot of the novel that we've been reading.  A married woman with a
child who despite her social caste and environment, goes against the moral
grain of southern society, roots, and upbringing to pursue a relationship
with a black man who's escaped the Confederacy.  This was the concept of
the story."
   Oh...my... god Ivana thought.  That IS exactly what happened in the
story.  Ivana was so caught up in planning and executing her offensive
against Jenny, that she had completely forgotten what the climax of the
novel had been.  The big twist of the story, Rosewood Embers, was the
identity of the deserting soldier.  Though described in bits and pieces
throughout the novel, at the erotic climax of the story he is revealed to
be a dark skinned black man, an ex-slave who had joined the military on the
side of the Confederates, only to abandon them and his duties during the
chaos of a particularly battle.
   It had struck Ivana as odd, and shocking at the same time.  She had
learned from Bianca that during the Civil War, over 65,000 Southern blacks
had been in the Confederate ranks.  Of the 65,000, an estimated 13,000 of
these men saw actual combat during the war.  Many others, and
understandably so, soon abandoned their positions when the tide of war had
changed.
   Many of them had either defected or headed deeper into the less
populated regions of the Southern states.  There was a deep historical
validity that had struck Ivana whilst reading the weighty novel.
   Her feelings towards the female protagonist had gradually developed from
the beginning of the story into a mode of sisterly admiration, only to be
decimated upon the revelation that she willingly bedded one of those men.
It had struck her as revolting back then, but now...  Ivana wasn't entirely
certain of her stance on the matter was.
   The video of Jenny, the apparent intensity and raw passion in their
fucking had struck a series of lesser strummed chords inside of her. 
They'd left her not so much curious, but...Ivana wasn't entirely sure what
to call it.  The word and expression remained on the tip of her tongue,
ever-present there but ultimately out of reach.
   All she knew for certain was that the act in question and contemplation
had stirred something inside of her.  Something so brutish and primal that
she was now starting to have - in some mysterious and ill defined capacity-
a new found...understanding of the woman's actions in the novel.
   "He WAS black wasn't he?!" Sammy erupted.  "I KNEW IT!  The way she kept
describing him and all that deep tanned muscle talk."
   "Yes Sammy.  She did go quite a bit in detail during some of the
more...descriptive portions of the novel.  Our maverick Jenny here was so
moved by it, she actually decided to go out and try it out for herself. 
It's highly unorthodox and incredibly morally questionable and beyond
brazen, but...I must say, the more I think of it, dare I say the impressed
I am."
   And that negro she was with...I'm surprised his posture isn't completely
ruined by carrying something THAT big thing around.
   "Wow, Jenny..." came Sammy.
   "I've never seen anything like it before!  I mean, I s'pose I've been a
bit curious about it once or twice.  What with all the rumors going around
about, you know...all the stuff they say about them having great big man
parts and all." Bobbie Sue and Steve always tell me that it's just a silly
old myth, but my goodness...that fella was HUMONGOUS!!!...and sooo fit too!
"
   "Yeah, he was a giant alright," Jenny added with a hint of a smirk on
her face and with emphasis on the word giant.  Her tone seemed rooted more
in the fond memory of encounter than simple fact.
   Jenny felt herself feeling more relaxed and returned to her jovial
demeanor after realizing that the threat of condemnation had passed. 
Despite her initial fear of being reprimanded by the other girls, she
realized that she actually enjoyed the attention.  However a question still
loomed ominous above her.
   How did that ended up on a DVD?
   She shuddered on the inside at the thought of someone outside of her
active circle of partners knowing of her lesser known appetites for black
men.  Jenny had always taken fair steps to keep not only herself, but her
daughter Kitty's activities with the local black men of Coxville a guarded
secret.  Though this current storm had passed, Jenny knew she'd dodged a
seriously dangerous bullet by but a fraction of an inch.  Like Bianca had
said earlier, this was Coxville.  Things like her with Tyrone, Coach,
Black, Principal Long and so on just didn't happen in their small, time
encapsulated region of the south...not in the open at least.
   The only ones who knew (to the best of her knowledge) outside of those
involved with was her husband Harold, who at present seemed to be the most
likely culprit.  Harold had been extremely jealous of the black men in town
whom Jenny decided to engage, and his jealousy was trumped only by his
intense arousal at the sight of seeing his wife -the hottest woman in
Coxville- get fucked senseless by the hung dark skinned bulls.  He'd never
admit it out loud, not even if pressed, but Harold never came harder than
when he saw his beautiful get manhandled by giant black cocks.  Jenny
thought it likely that Harold's fetish for playing the voyeur had recently
evolved to him wanting to film and document her encounters with the various
well hung blacks of Coxville.  To a degree it was fine by her, watching
herself get pounded mercilessly by that big stud Tyrone had turned her on
in ways that were new to her.  Even now she felt moisture forming between
her legs.  She was cross however with the fact Harold's little experiment
had been left to lie around so far in the open.  She loved the idea of her
being filmed, but resented Harold's lack of tack in keeping the footage
hidden.  Jenny loved black cock to the extent she'd tackle as many as she
could when and wherever she could.  However Jenny's addiction to black men
did not slate her grasp of common sense.  She'd be damned her reputation in
town were ruined on account of her husband's stupidity.
   It wouldn't be a chore at all to reprimand him on the matter.  She had
established dominance over Harold quite some time ago.  Unlike what most
people assumed, she didn't care nearly as much, if at all, about her
husband knowing she preferred the full, robust, male organ of men of the
darker hews in town.
   Harold isn't my master, she thought with a slight grin, not with his
pathetic little pencil dick!  Watching herself get pummeled on the video
only reinforced that fact.  Harold doesn't even have a fraction of what
Tyrone or Coach Black has.  Hell, he doesn't even compare to Samson and
he's still in high school!
   "Hwge liek bull!  He vas so- Hwge an- beeg an Black!" ..." said Anya to
Sammy as they engaged in a two way parley about Sammy's earlier comment on
Tyrone's body
   "I've never been even remotely interested in black men, Jen.  But I must
say, the physique on that one was rather remarkable." said Bianca
matter-of-factly.
   The world had flipped inverted on itself.  It didn't register to Ivana,
it just simply refused to make any sense.  How did this happen?  She had
gone over this plan thoroughly with a fine tooth comb, with every piece in
turn being meticulously combed again and again in her mind down to the
smallest element.  They weren't supposed to be like this, sitting there all
bright eyed and giddy like a bunch of little high school girls in a gossip
circle.  Sure, it was...intriguing watching Jenny take such a huge thick
dark...  thing into her...by such a huge and physically built man...it was
pretty amazing...granted, but...but"I can't get over it Jenny, you and a
black guy?!" Sammy smiled.  "Bobbie Sue and Momma always make it sound like
its so disgusting, but after seeing it for myself, the contrastin colors
and all, it actually looked pretty cool."
   "Yenny, how ded you take et all?" came Anya as she leaned forward,
bearing a generous portion of cleavage in the unbuttoned area of her black
blouse.
   "Yeah, how did you take it all?" Sammy echoed with a glint of wonder
coming from her emerald colored eyes.
   "I mean, that thing looked like it was about the size of my arm, and
almost twice as thick too!  I'm afraid something like that would split me
in two."
   "Indeed," Bianca added.  "I'm a little curious myself actually.  You
seemed so into it that it hardly looked like you required any real effort
on your part."
   Jenny nodded her head in contemplation.  Ivana remained standing a foot
or so behind her, both her arms folded stiff like two twisted branches on
an oak tree.  She'd kept them preoccupied and concealed out of concern of
acting out the voice howling in her head to just strangle the blonde bitch
where she sat.
   "Well, I won't lie to you, It's harder than it looks.  But after you
finally get the head in and take the first few pumps, your body just...I
dunno...adapts to all that extra meat.  Your muscles and insides kinda
relax and...give way.  The first time is always the hardest, but trust me,
in the end it's well worth it.  There's no better feeling than having your
pussy getting completely filled with all that warm, thick ebony meat."
   "Wooow, Jenny...that's so lewd." Sammy remarked jokingly.
   "Vooow" echoed Anya in her Russian lilt.
   "Hmmm, interesting..." added Bianca.
   The three women leaned forward on the couch with perched ears waiting
for Jenny to continue.
   "Well, who needs a novel when we've got our very own living Rosewood
Embers heroine right here in front of us, ladies." Bianca said jokingly.
   The girls all giggled mischievously, as though they were back in grade
school sharing in the punch line of some crude joke.
   "Tell us more Yenny", said Anya.
   Heroine?...bah!  Ivana sneered in disgust while Jenny went into more
descriptive detail, the girls clung to every syllable that came from the
busty blonde sage's full lips.
   The questions soon followed in rapid succession, each one overlapping
the other.  What's the biggest she's ever had so far?  How did the semen
taste?  Was it sweet?  Was it as thick as it looked?  How'd she psyche
herself up to do it the first time?  How long did it take for her to get
adjusted to such a huge thing?  Sammy Spitzmen presented the question of
how many calories she thought they'd burned during the encounter.
   "You guys were sweating like crazy!  I bet you it was a lot!"
   The girls laughed at this, thinking the redhead was simply making a
joke, however the look on her face seemed to be one yearning of genuine
knowledge.  So how often did you do it before that night at the game?  How
did you discover black men?  And again, how did you manage to get all that
inside you?"
   Jenny answered each question as fast as she could, trying her best to
keep up with the women until Bianca said,
   "My word, I just don't think I'd be able to do it", a response to
Jenny's experiences and methods of coping with such vast male members.
   "Oh, don't be silly BB..." Jenny waved a hand in friendly dismissal.
   "You've got a lot of cushion back there, girl.  More than any other
white girl I've seen in Coxville.  I've had ni-"
   She stopped herself, not wanting to refer to it quite so freely to her
girlfriends just yet.
   "I've had black men inside of me that were SO much thicker and fatter
all around.  I'm talking thicker than a grown man's forearms and longer
than a baby's leg.  I think, with a little practice you'd be a natural."
   "Good heavens!  You think so?" Bianca asked taken aback by the claim.
   "You bet!  Trust me on this.  A nice bubble butt like yours was made for
taking big black cocks.  Plus..." Jenny paused a moment for emphasis. 
"Black men love it on white girls.  They just can't get enough of it!"
   The girls giggled at this prospect, all of them taking that time to
steal glances of Bianca's rear, a large, heart shaped mound plotted on top
of the couch cushions.
   "Look, BB.  If my booty can take something that huge, I'm certain you
wouldn't have a problem, not with all you've got going on back there.  You
and Ivana both."
   "Wha-what?!" Ivana blurted.  "My ass isn't not THAT BIG!"
   Jenny gave her a sideways glance.
   "Ivy, as many times as I've heard you fuss and moan about not being able
to find pants that fit you..." Jenny giggled leaving Ivana to grumble and
grind her teeth.
   Meanwhile, Bianca turned to the side and propped up her lower back up in
an attempt to get a better look at her posterior.  It is rather large,
Bianca thought.  The astute blonde had held what she (and many others)
considered to be an abundance of hind quarter in that area.  Her husband
Ronald had never made any outward complaints about it, but in the same
breadth he had never particularly praised her for having such a large
behind either.  She'd always attempted to cover up any lingering
insecurities she had through her conservative choice in clothing.
   However, the attempts often times backfired miserably.  No matter how
finely tailored the dress, slacks, shorts, and sweatpants were; her
backside has always appeared more plump and prominent, and exentuated by an
especually toned and curvy lower back, that always tended to arch and
expose lines of muscle, and sway in conjunction with her hips as she
walked.
   The only time anyone had ever made a remark about her had been in school
by the students in her own classroom.
   ...
   Whenever Bianca turned her back to the class to scrawl a name, date, or
topic onto the black board; she would hear an array of whistles, hoots,
hollers, and a fair share of explicative slang terms that she knew were
crude and are only aimed towards her behind.
   Bianca would bear the abuse, until she'd finally turn around in
frustration to track down the culprits.  She'd look around to see nothing
but a host of innoncent faces staring back at her.  All of them free of
guilt, except for a few of the young black students who had positioned
themselves in the back of the room.
   They would all stare back at her, their faces barely masking their
laughter with scrunched lips and tightened jaws.  After shooting them an
icy glare and giving a stern warning against disrupting the class, she
would eventually turn her back once again to the class, only to hear the
jeering commence again.
   "DAT ASS!"
   "3B in the house son."
   "BAM, there it is!"
   "BOOTY MEAT!"
   ...
   Is that reason why they made such a huge fuss about my behind?
   "Sammy.  To answer your question from earlier, about how I discovered
black men.  It's kind of HARD to explain, its a long story."
   "Oh, don't worry about that!  You gotta tell us Jen, please?" Sammy
begged, eager to know all the gritty details.
   "Yah, from ze begeening Yenny", said Anya with an approving nod.
   "Yes, do tell." Bianca said, once again adjusting her glasses.
   Jenny Summers could have lit a stick of dynamite and thrown it in the
center of the living room and it wouldn't have jostled a response to flee
from the women.
   They huddled around Jenny, who sat on Harold's recliner.  Despite her
state of utter shock, anger, and disappointment; Ivana maintained her
position beside Jenny and found herself actually listening in just as
intently to what the busty blonde was about to say.
   After another long pause, Jenny then began her tale.
   "Well...  do ya'll remember that one football game against the Bartown
Beavers a ways back?"
   ...
   By the time Jenny had finally completed her stories, her adventures in
discovering the wonders of big black cock, the girls all swam in the
lingering mental collage.  Anya, Sammy, and Bianca stared up at Jenny from
their places on the floor, gathered round her reclining chair as though she
were a kind of fabled goddess given physical shape.  Ivana hadn't moved an
inch throughout the entire duration of the story.  Her legs and lower back
ached from standing up in such a stiff manner for so long, but she was also
amazed at the tales she had just heard.  Unbelievable, was the only word
that could cross her mind.
   "And that's it.  I haven't gone back since.  Why would I.  hehe?  "
   "Woooow Jenny" said Sammy.
   "That was rather remarkable Jenny." Added Bianca.  "With Coach Black?  I
just didn't know you and he were so...familiar."
   "Iz this Cooch Bleck really az such stallion?" asked Anya, a devious and
curious glint in her eye.  "Do...you think...Yenny, you could...how to
say...hooka up me with him?"
   "What?  Said Jenny with some degree of surprise.  "You want me to set
you up with Coach Black?"
   Anya nodded her head vigorously.
   "Yah, I vant to meet.  Vant to zee cock of black vor my own zelf".
   Jenny took a long moment to ponder this question.  Hell no!  She thought
to herself.  Coach is MY big black cock.  I'm not sharing him with anyone.
   "Hmmm...I'm not so sure about that sweetie.  He's really...picky about
his women, you know?"
   Anya's head dropped at this.  But not just her, Sammy's wide grin faded
to a pout at the news as well.  Even Bianca's shoulders collapsed a bit, as
though her own hopes of meeting the stud that had apparently given Jenny
such life altering pleasure had just been dashed.
   Hmph, and if you got him, I'd be a shoe in, thought Ivana.  She knew she
could get Coach Black if she wanted to with next to no effort.  On a few
occasions she had spotted him giving her a number of particularly thorough
glances when they would pass one another on campus or in the teacher's
lounge.  She had never spoken to him before, but now she was curious as to
how fast she could get him to give her the same treatment that he had given
to Jenny.  Looking at the girls, their saddened expressions, made Jenny
feel sorry for the disappointed lot.  She wanted the girls to know first
hand what it was like, how amazing black cock really felt.  A first hand
experience trumped any sort of verbal recant she could have given.  How can
I help them?  Jenny thought to herself.  It was just then that god himself
must have received Jenny question, because in that very moment, came the
long, loud ring of the doorbell as it alerted the girls that someone was at
the front door.
   ...
   "Oh, Samson", said Jenny after she opened the front door.
   Samson West was a tall, muscular young black man of very athletic build,
with a shaved head and skin of a solid brown shade.
   "Hey Jenny." Said Samson in a voice that seemed deeper than normal.  To
Jenny the boy seemed to grow a full inch every time she saw him, though, of
course she didn't mean this in terms of height.
   "How many times do I have to tell you Samson, its Mrs.  Summers if
you're going to be dating my daughter?  Jenny shot at the black youth, her
arms akimbo to emphasize the point.
   "Ah, sorry bout dat... Mrs.  Summers" said Samson with a big, scantly
sarcastic wide smile.  I'll play along.  Long as you keep letting me pound
you and your daughter's pussies out, he thought.
   "What can I do for you Samson, I've got company at the moment, so-"she
let her words trail off, testing the boy to see what the purpose of his
visit was.  On the inside she anxious.  She wanted to pull him through the
door right then and help herself to what was sitting, coiled in his
sweatpants.
   "Well, I was wondering if Kitty was around", said Samson."
   "Kitty's not here right now.  She's out with some of the other girls."
(Whom Samson could easily remember).
   "Oh..." replied Samson, letting a second or two linger before continuing
the conversation.
   "But..." came Jenny, as though the idea were but an afterthought. 
"You're welcome to wait for her here until she gets back."
   Samson grinned, knowing that his patience and hesitance would pay off.
   "Oh...alright, sure that sounds great Je-", he stopped himself, spying
the rise of Jenny's angry glare signified by a furrowing brow that made him
anxious and equally aroused at the same time.
   "Well, don't just stand there like a log, come on in", Jenny said,
waving the boy inside.
   He looked at her, and for a moment he thought he caught the slightest
hint of a smirk etched on Jenny's face.  He passed the threshold, and
followed Jenny into the living room, all the while admiring the steady sway
of her large round ass as she walked.  He'd known in quite some detail what
rested beneath those clothes, and the mere memory of it sent a slight
twitch to his dick.  He entered to living room, and upon seeing the host of
women sitting in the living room, the way they were- well three of the four
of them at least- were all huddled together, jabbering on at great length
and speed about something.  Looking over at the fourth woman in the room,
who Samson recognized immediately from school, he noticed she stood a ways
away from the group.  Stood like a statue, with her arms crossed underneath
a pair of the biggest, rounded, most succulent looking breasts he had ever
seen.  Dayum, Sampson thought to himself.  Those titties are legit.  Almost
as big as Jenny's.  Mrs.  Swallows was a particular favorite amongst the
boys at school.  She would often turn her nose up at them whenever they
tried to compliment her on her outfit, how it fit every portion of her
thick curvy body, and tanned silky smooth skin.  All the guys speculated on
how wild she gets in bed, and if she was as good at taking black dick as
Mrs.  Jenny was.
   Feeling his presence, the trio of women - all of them a bit older,
closer to Jenny's age - suddenly ceased their banter and looked over in
unison at Samson.  The act caused him a momentary jerk of discomfort, until
of course, he got a better look at them.  One of the women he immediately
recognized as Mrs.  Blackwood, his own teacher from school.  Sampson, and a
pair of his friends Anthony and Deon, had secretly given her the name Mrs.
3B, which was an abbreviated nickname for Mrs.  Big Booty Blackwood, for
her exceptionally large, and almost overwhelmingly shapely ass, that he and
his boys would often talk about in and out of her presence.  She was
dressed in much the same way she would at school, if not a bit more relaxed
with a few more of the buttons of her blouse being undone.  A black blouse
that did an "alright" job of covering her large round breasts, but showed
an enticing amount of cleavage from its loosening, and a black silk skirt,
that stretched tight around her firm curves.  Her blonde hair was tied up
in its signature bun, which all the boys thought would look sexy if she
simply undid it and let her shoulder length blonde hair cascade down to its
full shoulder length.  The thought sent another jolt to Sampson's dick.
   The other two girls he wasn't as familiar with.  The taller woman, the
one with the deep shade of glossy jet black hair, darker almond eyes, and
delicious set of womanly hips and thighs, he knew to be the step mom of
Todd White, a fellow student and member of the football team.  She had also
been the subject of quite a few discussions among the young men in the
locker room.  They'd taunted Todd, asking him if his step mom, the hot mail
order step mom, spoke in whatever weird Euro language it was that she spoke
while his dad pounded her.  Often their playful insults were met with Todd
giving them the finger.
   "You mad?" Stubby, a squat young member of the team would jeer.
   "Nah nigga, he's butt hurt because pa-pa won't let him hit it." Deon
would add.
   "Shiiit", exclaimed Stubby in response.  "If I were in yo spot Todd, I'd
be bustin the GUTS out that bitch every night.  Have that ho screaming my
name in her native tongue."
   Stubby added to the statement a pantomime gesture of thrusting his hips
back and forth, and waving a hand left and right near his crotch, smacking
an imaginary ass.
   The last girl in the room Samson hadn't recognized at all, at least, not
really.  She was the smallest amongst the women there, but she had to be
the most physically fit out of the lot.  Her short wiry frame was nothing
but toned muscle from head to toe, with ample curves of her own to spare in
hips.  She wore pair of tight black spandex pants that showcased the
perfect shape of her trimmed thighs, running trainers, and a loose fitting
gray sweatshirt that said "push it" written in bold black cursive letters
across the middle of her robust looking chest.  Part of the opening of the
sweatshirt hung low, exposing a part of silky, slender shoulder, and a
portion of a pink bra strap, and was cut off on the lower area to show off
an impressive set of lower abdominals, from top to the V shaped bottom. 
She still maintained every inch of her girlish features.  She had a
beautiful face, with a small cluster of reddish freckles speckled across
the bridge of her nose to both sides of her cheeks just under her eyes,
which were a pair of striking bright green eyes that peered straight at
him. It was fairly obvious she was the youngest of the group.
   Jenny, who was still ahead of him, turned and said,
   "Why don't you sit with us in here until Kitty gets back".
   "Oh...alright", said Samson.
   Damn, these bitches are fine.  If I'm gonna stay in here I'd better take
a seat quick before they notice I'm gettin hard, he thought.
   "Hey ladies!" called out Samson in a jolly tone.
   "Hello!" the women all said in unison, all of them smiling at him in a
rather dreamy state.  All of them looking him up and down, fixing their
eyes on his flirtatiously.
   "You caught us in the middle of our book club meeting", said Jenny,
standing next to him.
   "Ah, I see.  That's nice - I guess", said Samson, a feigned fascination
evident by his tone.
   He looked around the living room, averting his eyes from the gathered
band of women.  He needed to find a place to sit down before the boner
forming in his pants became too obvious.
   "I think you'll like today's topic", Jenny then said, her voice taking a
seductive dip that Samson knew all too well.
   "Oh really?  Why's that?  He responded.
   The room went quiet.  The three women remained seated on the couch,
while Nurse Swallows remained standing behind Jenny.  Sampson noticed the
stiff and serious way Ivana kept looking at him.  The icy glare and
statuesque posture from the busty brunette had intimidated him a little,
her standing there like some sort of bodyguard.  At the same time however,
Sampson couldn't help but find himself being further aroused by nurse
Swallow's piercing stare, imagining the mean expression worn on her face
whilst holding a mouthful of his cock in her mouth.  He suddenly felt
Jenny's hand as came up and gripped the fabric of his crotch.
   "Mind if I show you?" whispered Jenny, now face to face with the young
man, a dastardly smile on her fine white features.
   "Hmm, looks like you're already getting the idea", said Jenny, an
obvious reference to feeling his awakening manhood.
   The other girls seemed to be somewhat taken aback by such a forward
advance.  Their eyes grew large with wonder, and then focused in
anticipation for what would happen next.  From over Jenny's shoulder he saw
Nurse Swallow's eyes fix down on Jenny's hand as it gripped the meat of his
hardening cock from under his sweatpants.  She's so forward, like this is
nothing for her, Ivana thought.  Wow, Jenny's going for it right now,
thought Sammy.
   "No, not at all", he said, grinning.
   "Come on over here into the light Samson, so the girls can get a better
look at you", said Jenny, her hand sliding from Samson's sweatpants to his
hand.  She guided him to center of the living room, where the light shone
the brightest.  The three girls still sat on the couch, while Nurse
Swallows motioned a bit closer towards them, just in front of the big white
reclining chair.  He faced the girls on the couch, while Jenny kneeled in
front of him.
   Taking both her hands, placing two fingers on each side of his sweats,
she slowly pulled them down.  After a single, long moment, the pants fell
to his ankles, freeing his long, thick brown, half hard cock.  The girls
all gasped, and then gazed.
   "Oh my gawd!" said Sammy.
   "My word Samson!" said Bianca, adjusting her black glasses.
   "???  ???????"!  said Anya in her Russian language.
   Oh my god, it's as big as my forearm, thought Ivana.
   Jenny took a single smooth hand, and gently slid it up Samson's thigh,
before clutching Samson's now throbbing manhood, and hoisting it up and
slightly to the side for the girls to get a full view of it.
   "This, ladies" began Jenny, as though advertising it, "is what it's all
about".  She then took his large cock into her other hand, and turned
towards her smiling face.  It bulged, a pump of blood to organ caused the
network of veins strewn from top to bottom to pulse, which in turn made it
grow right before the girl's baffled eyes.  "Big" Jenny pursed her full red
lips," Black", as she gently kissed the head, clear white pre-cum now
dripping from the urethra.  "...Cock."
   Using her tongue, she then began licking the head, brushing her pink
tongue across it as though it were a dark ice cream cone, just before she
slowly slid a fair portion of the rest of Samson's cock into her mouth. 
Ivana's jaw dropped, Sammy and Anya held each other's hand while they both
gently bit their lips.  Bianca had unknowingly slipped her black glasses
off of her face, and was now softly biting on one of the rim edges, not
even aware of the gesture.  Ivana had hardly noticed that she had finally,
after over an hour of standing stiff as a tree, collapsed back into
Harold's reclining chair.  Jenny sunk more and more the dark meat stick
into her mouth, slowly bobbing her head back and forth in long sensual laps
that became wetter and louder with each pass.  She devoured most of him in
her first few runs, and then proceeded to slide all of it into her mouth,
and deep down into her throat, holding it for a few moments, slightly
moving her head from left to right for emphasis, and then pulled off his
cock with a loud pop as her lips sucked a bit harder on the dark head.  She
exhaled, a bit of slobber running down one side of her cheek, and said,
   "Get closer ladies, you might want to take notes."
   Jenny looked over and winked at Ivana, which in turn made the busty
nurse churn with silent anger.  She scowled at Jenny, a gesture intended to
wordlessly accept her issued challenge.  Her plan had failed miserably, but
Ivana would be damned if she'd let Jenny come off as the instructor, and
her the student...even if she did make that huge black cock disappear in
her mouth and down her throat like magic, she thought.  As per her request,
the girls got up from their seats, and gathered around Samson on their
knees.  Ivana remained standing, choosing a position higher above the
others, and preferring the downward view of Samson's cock as Jenny once
again began fiddling with the head using her tongue.  And with that, the
girls training began.
   ...
   Ivana was still far beyond pissed at Jenny, thoroughly so what with the
added sting of the bizarre twist the night had taken in her rival's favor.
How had they all ended up like this anyway?  From the moment they pushed
play on the DVD player it seemed like the entire world had gone off its
axis.  Slipped into some sort of off kilter parallel version of the world
that caused them all to change into such craven things.  But alas, such
thoughts fell to the backend of importance while watching Jenny work on
Samson's huge pulsating member.  It was an amazing feat, even Ivana
couldn't deny that.  The beautiful blonde sucked and slobbered and sloshed
on the huge brown hose-like piece as though she had been well versed in it
all her life.  The wet slurping sounds that emitted from her efforts caused
the girls to squirm with excitement.  Eyes widened and shot from place to
place, not quite sure whether to pay more attention to Jenny bobbing head
or to the vein riddled cock that was rapidly growing in length and girth in
her wet mouth.
   It von't stoop growing, thought Anya, her lips pursed tight.  She could
feel her mouth begin to water slightly with each passing moment.  She grew
increasingly anxious, eager to get that big fat cock of black in her own
mouth.  Could she?  She wondered.  It was unlike anything she had ever
seen, in her home in Russia or even after she moved to the states.  It was
marvelous, made her husband Todd's penis look like a tater tot by
comparison.  ????????, she murmured.
   Jenny pulled the large ebony rod from her mouth again, and grabbed a
part of it with her left hand.
   "One thing you always have to remember ladies, is that black cocks
require a lot of spit", she said, then punctuating this remark by spitting
a big thick glob of her own clear spit onto the top of the vast organ.  She
held it up and it dribbled from the top to the bottom of Samson's penis,
and down to his strikingly large pair of ebony balls.
   "Goodness", said Sammy.
   "Looks rather...messy", said Bianca with a slight grimace.
   "It's a messy job", replied Jenny.  "But sooo much fun, and it really
helps out in the end.  Watch..."
   With that Jenny went back to work.  This time she more than doubled her
speed, her head moving to and fro so hard and fast that her hair swooped up
in arching motions.  The spit had acted as lubricant, and made her head
bobbing far easier now.  The effect showed in Samson's groans increasing.
He looked down to see Jenny gorgeous face moving vigorously on his cock,
her blue eyes looking up at him hungrily, and her full pink lips pursing
tighter on him.  His teeth clenched.
   "Ah, fuck I can't hold out!" he bellowed.  "Here it comes!"
   And with that the girls saw Samson spasm on his feet, while Jenny began
to suck harder at his tensing cock.  The dark veins bulged as his juices
flooded into Jenny's greedy maw.  She sucked and mewled and mumbled
unintelligible slurs on his bucking monster, swallowing it as fast as she
could.  After what seems like an entire minute she reluctantly released it
from her mouth, not a drop of semen spilling onto the floor, for every drop
had been taken.  It was a mouthful, but Jenny swallowed the huge load in a
single gulp, a single blotch of white coming from puckered lips.  She
immediately wiped the blotch up with a finger, and licked it off as though
it were the frosting to a fine cake.
   "Wow Jenny", said Sammy in awe.  "I had no idea something that big could
fit down your throat!"
   She took about a solid foot down her throat like it was nothing, thought
Ivana, her jaw still dropped.
   "You very lucky boy to have Mrs.  Jenny to taking into your mouth your
ewge cock, no?" said Anya, gazing up at Samson seductively.
   "Oh my goodness!" Came Bianca suddenly in a gasp.  "He's getting hard
again!"
   The four other girls all looked to Samson.  Low and behold, his brown
cock was already swelling back up to its original hard state.
   These white bitches are just so damn fine, my shit just won't stay down,
he thought.
   "Now then..." came Jenny after a moment of savoring the taste of
Samson's seed, "You girls want to give it a try?" She smiled, looking
around at the shocked faces.
   There was a long paused.  All four of the girls frozen in their place,
all eager to try their own mouths on the young Sampson, but all of them
apprehensive as to how the others would react.  Eye shot back and forth,
conveying all the worry and mixed with anticipation.  In the end, one voice
broke the lingering silence.
   "Out of my vay ladies!" came Anya in the pitch of a command.
   Inspired and without any further hesitation, she gripped shaft of
Sampson's cock, and without another word shoved it into her mouth.  ???? 
??????!  ?????????  ???????, ?  ????  ??  ???, she thought.  She was used
to being able to fit the entire span of her husband Tom's penis in her
mouth, down to the balls.  But this black throbbing mass of hard meat was a
struggle just to get the head settled in passed her lips.  Casting caution
to wind, she reared back, and then shot her head forward, taking a vast
amount of the erect cock into her throat.  It was too much for her, and
after a few hard forward and backward jerks of her head, she gagged and
spat it out in a messy spray of saliva.  She choked, and Jenny had to
intervene.
   "Whoa, not so fast, Anya" she said, patting her back as she coughed
through her failed attempted.  "It's something you have to work at.  Good
first try though.  Alright, who else wants to try?"
   Immediately a hand shot up from Sammy.
   "Oh oh, I do!" she wailed, emphatically as a school girl who knew the
answer to a complicated math problem.  Her eagerness made Jenny giggle a
bit.
   "Alrighty then, here you go" she said, pointing the now licked clean,
meaty cock at the smiling red head.
   Sammy slowly reached one of her small hands forward.  I can't believe
I'm about to do this, Sammy thought.  Steve would go berserk, and I don't
even want to know what Bobbie Sue would say.  But... her hand fell upon it,
feeling its warmth, its velvety texture and the robust veins pumping more
and more blood to it, making it grow larger in her hand.  It's just so big,
so thick and...so dark.  Her bright green eyes became mesmerized at the
swollen cock, and soon gave in to the swelling temptation that had been
growing in her since her eyes had adjusted to the film.  She opened her
tiny mouth as far as she could, and slowly motioned the big thing into her
mouth.  Careful so as not to copy the mistake Anya had made, Sammy worked
Samson's cock into her mouth cautiously, making sure that the vast piece
didn't overwhelm her tiny mouth.  Gradually she fell into a rhythm, and
picked up her pace.  She slurped and sucked as much as she could get into
her mouth.
   Her neck length red hair wafted as she enthusiastically bobbed on the
engorged black rod.  At one point she turned her head to the left, the cock
still nestled in her mouth.  The shift in angle made the huge cock protrude
outward from the side of her left cheek, the head of it looking like as
though Sammy had an immense jawbreaker held to the left of her mouth. 
There's so much of it, she thought.  Can't get it all in my mouth, but I've
gotta push.  Try as she might, she couldn't get the entire span of Samson's
cock down her throat, but what she could get she sucked on hardily and with
great fervor, encouraged by Sampson's groans that came more frequently as
she increased her speed.
   "Very good Sammy", said Jenny as she oversaw Sammy's technique.  She
could tell Sammy was into it, her energy showed through her rapid head
motions and the moans coming from her.
   Look at her go, thought Ivana as she watched the small redhead suck and
slurp on the huge thing.  It didn't really surprise her, what with Sammy
being as energetic the other ninety-nine percent of the time as she was. 
It turned her on seeing the lithe little redhead try choking herself on the
young black stud's monster cock, half of it now shiny and wet with Sammy's
spit.  Jeez, this thing is humungous, way bigger than Steve's, Sammy
thought.  This is actually really fun, and this guy has a really great
body. Sammy rose a free hand and ran it up Sampson's thigh, along a trail
that ended at his tight six pack abs.  She rubbed then gently, appreciating
their solid texture while soaking in the rapture of the huge dong ramming
into her mouth.  If Sammy hadn't known any better, she'd swear the
combination of sensations had her on the verge of a powerful climax.
   Samson remained standing, walking on clouds as Sammy ravenously bobbed
on his cock.  Man, the guys are gonna be crazy jealous when I tell them
about this shit.  This little red head bitch is a straight monster.  I love
it.  He equally enjoyed the soft touch of her fingers as they brushed
across his stomach, stroking his abs with her fingertips.  This wasn't
entirely surprising to the young man, as her own physique conveyed the
proof of her being a very strict individual with exercise.
   "May I try now?" asked Bianca, leaning forward so that Sammy could pass
the throbbing cock to her.
   "I think it's my turn!" interrupted Ivana, moving Sammy aside from the
end of Samson's cock after a long lap on the underside near his balls.
   I'll show her, she thought, pushing her way through and falling to her
knees.  She grabbed up Sampson's cock into both her hands, and glared at it
intensely.  I can take this, easy.  Ivana then took his cock into her mouth
and slowly, inch by inch progressed on the arduous task of fitting the
ebony mass all the way into her open maw.  Holy shit!  Thought Samson. 
This bitch is serious.  She's getting at my cock like she's mad at it.  She
nearly got the entire length of Samson's cock into her throat.  My god it's
stretching my throat out, she thought, tears being to run down her cheeks,
strained gurk sounds sputtering from the deepest part of her, until she
finally bottomed out and pulled back, long ropes of thick spit connecting
her pouty lips to his cock.
   "Not bad Ivy", said Jenny.  "But", she then added.  "You didn't quite
make it all the way down." she jested, pointed to the one dry stop on the
final inch of Samson's cock that she couldn't devour.  Ivana's face
reddened.
   "Your turn BB", Jenny then said.
   "Oh, a...alright", Bianca replied nervously.
   She removed her glasses, and set them on the glass table.  She crawled
over to the towering Samson, until she got close enough to where her mouth
could reach his cock.  What am I doing, Bianca asked herself.  I can't do
this, I'm this boy's teacher for Pete's sake.  Her protests soon wandered
however, fell further and further into the silent corner of her mind as she
gazed at the huge brown dong dangling just in front of her face.  Bianca
had thought of thousand very good reasons as to why she shouldn't be doing
this, and dozens more reasons why she should eject herself from this
situation entirely.  However, the only thought that seemed to reach the
active part of her mind was; It's enormous, the biggest thing I've ever
seen.
   She took a soft manicured hand, and slid up slowly along base.  So
smooth, she thought, and warm.  In her hand she felt the heat pulsing
through Samson's body.  In her hand she couldn't quite articulate how the
mere act of holding it made her feel, just that it in turn made her just as
warm, and - as it was now apparent by the moisture in her panties - very
wet.  She reared up, and opened her cherry red lips.  She took in one hot
inch, then another, and then another.  Not wanting to rush like the other
girls did, she lingered for a moment, getting a feel for and savoring the
taste of the big thing that was now making its way deep into her mouth.
   It's so heavy, she thought to herself.  It must weigh over a solid pound
or so, and its girth is remarkable.  The weight of just the first few
inches of it pulsing in her mouth made her have to alter her position. 
Still holding it in her mouth, she placed both of her hands flat on the
floor so that she could lean up further.  She arched her back, which
hoisted the upper half of her body closer to Samson's hips.  Samson got a
significant view of cleavage of the curvaceous blonde's full breasts, and
he also noticed what the motion had done to the angle of Bianca's lower
half.  The act of arching her back had made her behind perk up more,
showing the promise and outline of her large shapely ass.  Gotdamn, there
it is, thought Samson.  Shit!  Mrs.  Blackwood's got a phat ass booty.  As
she took more of Samson into her mouth, her back arched more, which lifted
more of her ass up in the process.  Samson couldn't hold it.  He reached a
hand over from his standing position, and grabbed a handful of Bianca's
right ass cheek.  He's grabbing my ass, Bianca thought.  The feeling of
Samson's big strong hand gripping and slightly massaging her cheek made her
even more wet.  They really do get off on white women with large bottoms,
she thought, somewhat charmed by the notion.  Motherfuckers soft too,
dayum. Samson's hands were large, but even still he only managed to grab a
portion of her ass.  Wonder what how that ass would feel riding my dick, he
thought.
   And the thought was what did Bianca in.  Imaging the dynamics of
Bianca's sizable posterior made Samson rock hard.  Without warning his cock
expanded another few inches into Bianca's mouth, and forcefully hit the
back of her throat.  She couldn't take it, and immediately lunged back,
gagged, and gasped when her mouth had finally freed itself.
   "Jesus!" belted BB in a wet gasp, dropping for a moment her rich and
proper southern belle argot.  "It wouldn't...stop growing.  Just
kept...expanding to the back of... my throat" she sputtered while trying to
regain her breath.
   "Well done BB", Jenny said.
   "Da, very good BB", added Anya.
   "I'm going again", came Ivana, who without another word clutched Samson
in her hand and shoved him back into her mouth.
   "Somebody's eager", chided Jenny with a smirk.  "See girls, it's just a
matter of practice.  Ivana's already hooked."
   Fuck you, thought Ivana.  Furiously she took her anger towards Jenny out
on Samson's cock, fucking her face hard with the wet rock solid piece.
   "Agh yes!" came Samson, his eyes rolling into his head.  "Fuck yes! 
She's a natural!"
   The compliment spurred Ivana on, and in response she took him deeper
into her throat, this time actually managed to go all the way to the hilt.
This bitch isn't fucking around, she's gonna make me cum, he thought. 
Sampson was rendered speechless, and within a few more violent pumps from
Ivana, began to cum straight down her throat.  Ivana's green eyes bulged as
the thick liquid shot directly into her, causing her to fight frantically
pulling back from the wet onslaught.  Too much, she thought, her mouth
flooded with far more cum than she had anticipated.  Trying to mimic the
technique she had seen Jenny use earlier, she swallowed as quickly as she
could, without trying to spill a drop.  But alas, it was not fast enough.
She gagged half way through Samson's climax, and had to pull back out of
fear of choking on the monstrous white load that filled her in seemingly
endless surges.  In pulling back, her blouse was covered in creamy white,
leaving her breasts, shirt, front of her skirt, and entire lower half of
her chin a cum covered mess.
   Anya, Sammy, Bianca, and Jenny all stared at the rich mess that had been
made.  Speechless, they all just looked as the thick globs fell from the
tip of Samson's dong, and onto the overwhelmed Ivana.
   "My verd!" said Anya.
   "Goodness gracious, so much." Came Bianca.
   "Outstanding Ivy", said Jenny.
   After another moment, Jenny promptly got to her feet, and grabbed the
edge of the glass table that was positioned in front of the couch.
   "Alright, well it looks like you girls are ready for lesson 2".
   ...
   Jenny moved the glass table far enough to the side of the room and away
from the couch.  She then walked back over to the waiting Samson.
   "Sucking a big black cock is loads of fun", Jenny said in a giggle,
noting her own joke.  "But knowing how to fuck it...that's where the real
thrill is."
   With that she grabbed Samson by his still dribbling cock, and guided him
by it over to the couch.  When they were standing just in front of it, she
turned to face the young man, and push him backwards into the seat with
little resistance, considering his pants were still pooled around his
ankles.  He fell back, his cock flopping up with an audible clap as it fell
against his belly.
   "Now all that spit I told you about really comes in handy for this
part", said Jenny as she slowly slid out of her skirt, and let it drop
inaudibly to the floor.
   She walked over to the sitting Samson, and leaned forward onto the couch
with one knee placed to the side of Sampson's hip.  The girls looked
onward.
   "Is she really gonna try putting that big ol' thing in her?" whispered
Sammy to Anya using just a side of her mouth to speak and hoisting a hand
to the side of her face in a gesture of covert speech.
   "I dun know.  Itz too big.  Will et evan feet?"
   "Well", interjected Bianca with added whisper.  "The female body can
expand significantly to give birth to babies, so its certainly not
impossible."
   "That thing iz baby head" added Anya, not taking her eyes off the sight.
   "Well...yes...but...we have seen her take more if the proportions on the
video were correct."
   The three girls clustered together in discussion, all them acknowledging
one another, but none of them averting their gaze from Jenny as she mounted
the black youth.
   "But hey, doesn't the camera add ten pounds?" asked Sammy.
   "So thet would mean Yenny only took hiaf of grown man's arm" said Anya
jokingly, which caused Sammy to giggle as well.
   "Shhh!" chided Bianca, wanting the girls to focus their attention back
to the action unfolding.
   Partially straddling him, Jenny then lifted and swung her other long
white leg over to the other side of Sampson's hip.  She was now in a full
straddle position, hovering over Sampson's cock, which had hardened once
again, and stood erect like a black pillar, still slick with spit and
lingering remains of semen.  Jenny then motioned closer to Sampson's face,
while at the same time moving one hand to the lower left side of the
recliner.  In one abrupt jerk she repositioned the chair by 160 degrees,
giving the girls a full view of the underside of both people sitting in the
chair, black on white skin.
   "Rule 1; always be sure to breathe", Jenny said.  "Especially if it's
your first time."
   As she spoke she reached a hand around her back, and gripped topmost
part of Sampson's throbbing dick.  She would pause for a moment to let the
girls get a firm image of each motion.  Slowly Jenny then lowered herself
on the monstrous member, the other girls eyes glued to the sight as the
distance between Jenny's pink pussy lips and Sampson's swollen cock was
closed.
   "Rule 2; Always brace yourself for the head.  The first four inches or
so are always the hardest."
   First four inches, thought all the girls unknowingly in unison.  Steve's
whole penis is five inches, thought Sammy.  That's all Thum (Tom) has,
Thought Anya.  This bitch really talks as if she knows what she's doing,
brooded Ivana quietly.  But the average male penis is only six inches,
thought Bianca.  Spying Samson's massive member immediately pressed down
this belief firmly now however for the proper blond, seeing being akin to
believing after all.  Can Jenny really take that much?  I mean, he's so
large, she pondered.
   Jenny continued her downward path onto Sampson, slowly, methodically,
until their two parts finally touched.  Jenny's pussy slowly opened itself
as Sampson's brown piece slid inside her.  They both moaned as Jenny's
pussy lips bloomed to take in more of the monstrous thing.  The looking
girls all sucked in air, some of them giving slight moans imagining
themselves in Jenny's place.
   "ugh", grunted Jenny.  "You grow an extra inch of what Sampson?"
   He chuckled.
   "I've always got a little extra reserved for you Mrs.  Jenny."
   "O..Ok girls," said Jenny in more of a mouthed slur than actual speak.
She was trying to instruct while fighting her urge to give into the raw
ecstasy of having Sampson inside her.
   She slid down further, making more of the ebony rod disappear.  Jenny's
pussy stretched to accommodate the sheer girth of the thing, and the image
made the girls excited.  I can't believe she's actually getting it in,
thought Ivana.  Soon Jenny managed to get the whole thing inside of her,
her round white ass sitting atop Sampson's balls.
   "Oh my god!" shouted Sammy.  "She did it."
   Jenny turned around to face the girls, a girlish smile on her face at
Sammy's approving comment.
   "Nothin to it girls.  And if you thought that was something, watch
this".
   Jenny then lifted her ass up, revealing once again the dark meat of
Sampson's cock.  She brought herself all the way until she almost reached
the tip.
   "You don't want the head popping out", she said.  "Lord knows how much
effort it takes just to get it in".
   Without another word, she brought her ass back down, this time hard and
with an audible slap of skin against skin.  A collective shockwave passed
over the girls from the sound.  Jenny then picked up her pace, and
continued to bump her ass up and down on Sampson's long rod.  The girls
looked onward, as Jenny continued to instruct them.
   Jenny leaned forward, poking her ass up so the girls had a good view of
the next lesson.  She placed her hands on Samson's muscular chest before
slowly beginning to motion up and down on his cock.  Gradually she began
speeding up.  Jenny decided to reduce the amount she took into her to 1/2
of him, so that she could instruct the girls properly.  This however wasn't
understood by the young and eager Sampson, who took this fading back on
Jenny part as a sign for him to take the reigns.  He pumped his hips
upward, deep into Jenny's pink twat.
   " Ahh!  Aaaahhh!  SHIT!!!-Y-you're working with a lot here...girls
SO--ah--Y-you always want to...to START at ...ah...AH!  ah......at an
even-rhythm, and...oh...my...AHH...then-oh-oh -jesus- work your way up from
there...OOooohh....yes...YES...YESSS...AH!AH!AH!AH!"
   The girls looked on in awe as they watched Jenny's ass bounce up and
down, faster and deeper on Samson's black dong.  Jenny's very own juices
began to overflow and leak onto his balls, seeping onto Harold's recliner.
Unable to hold back her own enjoyment, Jenny then began grinding harder, a
motion intended to show the young Sampson that Jenny was still the
instructor here.  Sampson grunted with pleasure, and then lifted a solid
hand to massage her large breast.
   "Fu- I mean...fascinating..." said Bianca, her own hand subtly lifting
up to her own chest to touch the inside of her bra.
   "My...look at it go..." came Anya, feeling her nipples harden slightly
in response.
   "Hmph, doesn't look THAT hard..." came Ivana with a shrug, doing her
best to seem nonplussed.  Unseen by the other however, her own vaginal
walls were screaming.  Jesus, look at the slut go and on all that cock.
   Jenny continued to gallop on Sampson, until she eventually forced
herself to simmer down, and pulled herself up her pleasure staff.
   "And lastly girls..." Jenny said in pants.  "This the hardest part, but
all the funnest."
   The girls all gulped, nervous but matched by intrigued.
   "Sampson dear, why don't you show the girls how well black cock fucks
when you're in control."
   Immediately Sampson motioned up from the chair to stand, however he
brought down by one of Jenny's hands.
   "Ah-ah, laying back.  I've still got to instruct them", she said.
   With that, Jenny turned her back to the black youth, and climbed back on
top of the recliner.  She straddled Sampson once again, however this time
her back was to him, and she was now facing the wide eyed gazes of the
other girls.  Jenny slightly twisted her body to the left as she came down,
towering over Sampson's huge slick ebony tower.  Using two fingers she
parted her pink cat, and then pushed herself back down onto Sampson's
chocolate rod.  She grunted again.
   "Ugh, damn Mrs.  Jenny", moaned Sampson.
   By the time Jenny had fit about half the monster cock into her, she had
revealed to the girls she had been placing herself in a side saddle
position.
   "Alright Sampson, now show the girls how black cock moves when it's in
control."
   As if the request had been issued as a command, Sampson began pumping up
and into Jenny with incredible force.  The loud slapping had more than
doubled in pitch and intensity.  The girls could almost feel each impact of
Sampson's cock as it rammed itself into Jenny's unguarded pussy.  Jenny
cooed, and then began to wail as the young man reached his arms around the
underside of the older blonde's thighs, holding her in place while he
fucked her.
   "Jenny is really getting into this...even more than before..." said
Sammy out loud, more to herself than to anyone in particular.  Sammy prior
enthusiasm had been replaced with a calmer, more collected persona.  Sammy
was far too turned on, too wet to be bubbly right now, watching Jenny wail
and writhe while the dark and muscular Sampson grunted and gritted his
pearly white teeth.  To Bianca, the feat was a marvel.  Like watching some
magical act of nature in one of the documentaries she'd regularly enjoy. 
Needless to say however, the wet traces forming in her panties served as
proof that the round bootied blond enjoyed this much more than anything on
Wildlife.  Anya gazed on with an intense look of enjoyment that oddly
bordered on sinister.  For a long time she had been looking for a means to
get back at her lecherous and unappreciative husband Tom.  She had resented
his increasingly uncaring attitude towards her, and resented even more his
lackluster skills in bed.  She wanted revenge.  And in viewing this man,
this big, strong, young, dark skinned stud as he pounded away into a woman
several years her elder - and thoroughly satisfying her no less - convinced
Anya that she had discovered the perfect tool to enact said revenge.
   Ivana Swallows had been so caught up in the act that for a brief while
she had forgotten all about her failed attempt at vengeance.  It was
downright incredible how forceful the young black youth was fucking the
busty blond senseless.  Watching Jenny's massive breasts heaving up and
down violently with each upward thrust, the semi-crazed look in Jenny's now
rolling eyes and the low, guttural grunts that made her almost sound
possessed by a demon at certain voiced apex's had made Ivana sopping wet.
She could only imagine how it must have felt to be so completely ravaged,
pounded, pulverized by something so large and...dark.  It was unlike
anything she had ever witnessed before, except perhaps the night of the
Coxville basketball game, which only added to the wetness forming in her
panties through memory.
   "Jesus..." she whispered to herself.
   Samson would keep up this pace for some time, eventually turning Jenny
to face the girls in reverse cowgirl position, which made Jenny's
abdominals tighten and flex in a way that had the young Sammy yearn to
slide a finger in herself.  Jenny would occasionally give a follow up tip
for bracing oneself for the blunt trauma of taking such massive organs, but
mostly the blond just wailed and writhed with the onslaught.  Until the
girls memorized every shift, shrug, and proper motion for riding big black
cock.
   Jenny would eventually be turned over onto her back, spreading her thick
and muscular thighs to the black bull and subsequently being burrowed into
in missionary position.  Jenny would lose track of her orgasms, one lined
up immaculately after another as Samson dipped into again and again with
increasing fervor.  Several times she'd try to give instruction, to give
the girls pointers, but every time she attempted to speak Samson's cock
seemed to thrust the wind right out of her as it buried itself into her,
belly deep.  Soon her words just trailed off into unintelligible moans and
grunts.  It was a product of her own design however, as she did warn the
girls beforehand that this was the hardest part of the lesson.  And the
young, energetic Samson West, seemed to still be brimming with energy.
   The girls found themselves being very much impressed with the young
man's physique, as the position gave a brilliant view of his highly
sculptured back, legs and ass.  Bianca was astounded by the underside view
of the young man's massive member.  The pulsating veins of his hot flesh as
it dunked into Jenny over and over made her own inside burn with curiosity
at how much of that black beast she could take herself.  Added with the
remembrance of how warm and firm Samson's grasp was on her large, the
collective emotion sent a chill of delectable electricity from the small of
her curved and toned lower back, and jutted to the pit of her womb.  Sammy
Spitzmen meanwhile was captivated by Samson's muscles.  She'd never seen a
man as ripped, toned, and immaculately sculptured as Samson outside of the
action movies she watched.  The rhythmic tensing and relaxing of his arms,
legs, hips, abs, and ass made her think of what a Greek god would look like
if he were pounding a fair maiden.  She had taken notice some time ago,
that watching the young black bludgeon Jenny made her nipples hard.  Turn
into two twin points of sensitivity that made her face reddened as they
brushed inside the fabric of her shirt.  Anya White found the ferocious
force in which Samson fucked Jenny to be simply awe inspiring.  She'd known
the black men of town were made infamous for their aggressive nature, but
the European beauty had not known in fact how fiercely that aggressiveness
translating to their sexual prowess.  The fast paced wham,wham,wham of
Samson's hips and giant testicles as they hit firm and wetly against
Jenny's thighs, ass, and quivering pussy made her own lady parts wash in a
raising heat of bodily secretions.  She'd never in her life been fucked
like that, ever.  And knowing that the young man would gladly oblige her if
she asked for the same treatment made her tongue near salivate with the
menu of possibilities.  Power-fucking was what the foreign brunette would
dub the subject, and based on the evidence she had been presented this
night, it was something that black men appeared to excel at in spades.
   "He has an incredeble body", said Sammy.
   "You could bend meetal spoons between cheeks I bet" said Anya.
   "Indeed", murmured Bianca.
   ...
   An hour or so later, Sammy Spitzmen, Anya White, Ivana Swallows, and
Samson West walked out of the Summers house.  All of them were physically
and mentally exhausted from the night's festivities and instruction. 
Samson's walk in particular showed signs of significant fatigue, his normal
stride and posture being reduced to something reminiscent of a man in his
early eighties more than one in his late teens.  They were all exhausted,
however any onlooker watching their exit would have noticed a uniform
specter of a smile outlining all of their faces.  Sammy, Anya, and Bianca
all had a matching, almost dream-like expression uniformly painted on their
beautiful faces.  West meanwhile, despite his obvious weariness, held a
countenance that hinted of something beyond satisfaction.  A look of
composure and satiation that could, to the exclusive nameable few gentlemen
in Coxville County, only be identified and as the "post Jenny Summers
smirk".  Jenny watched the troop leave from the threshold, waving an
outstretched hand to the girls, and playfully giving Samson a slight smack
on his bottom as he exited her house.
   "I'll be sure to tell Kitty you stopped by", she said with an added
wink. "And girls, don't forget what I told you.  Same time next week at my
house if you're interested."
   They all complied in their own way.  Sammy turned around to give Jenny a
compliant wave,
   "OK Jenny."
   "Da", added the dark haired Anya.
   Bianca merely responded with a slight (seemingly embarrassed) adjustment
of here glasses.
   "Uhm...sure..." she muttered.
   Anya gave a terse wave and nod of her head, and punctuated the gesture
verbally with a simple,
   "K..."
   Ivana meanwhile said nothing.  She chose to simply keep walking down the
sidewalk that would ultimately lead to her house.  Harold Summers had just
driven up in his car as the girls and Samson had been making their way out
the door.  He smiled at the group, long enough until his eye settled on the
young West.
   "Hey girls, how was the meeting tonight?" he asked as he got out of his
car and collected his brief case.
   The three of them all gave varying responses.
   "Interesting...to say the least", said Bianca.
   "Really well..." said Sammy, though she forced herself to stop talking
before going into detail.
   "Wonderful", said Anya, though it came out as "Wundervool".
   Ivana said nothing.  Harold made a face, a confused contortion of his
features from how differently all of them had replied, but alas the four
seemed to be purposely leaving something out, something they wouldn't say
out loud, but their body language screamed in betrayal of their mode of
secrecy.
   "That's...nice." He said curiously, a part of him keeping from going
into further questions on the night's details.
   Harold said nothing to Samson as he passed by him, the two exchanging
nothing more than a silent swapping of disapproving glares at one another.
More accurately would be the disapproving glare Harold shot at the young
black man, and the defiant smirk that Samson gave Harold in exchange.  It
was a snigger that held some sort of secret punch line that the elder man
wasn't yet aware of.  Despite their broad gap in age, Harold Summers and
Samson West were enemies, and shared a less than jovial history via their
respective relationships with Kitty and Jenny Summers.  Over the course of
several encounters and dialogs, the two men held their opinions of one
another as less than satisfactory.  The added fact that West was currently
dating the elder man's daughter (his Kitten) failed to brighten the
situation as well.  The silence between them was broken when Samson spoke
up and said,
   "Long day at the office Harry?"
   The question made Harold cringe.  He hated when Samson, his younger by
almost more than two decades, referred to him as "Harry".  This was a fact
that the young Samson was well aware of, and made it a point to stab into
the older man with every open opportunity.
   "Boy..." Harold began behind gritted teeth, but soon fell back upon
remembering how intimidating the full height and build of the younger man
was to him.  "You've no idea..." he mumbled.
   "Take care ya'll", said Jenny as they exited the driveway and headed in
three separate directions.  Ivana and Sammy went left, while Anya and
Bianca headed right, and Samson continuing straight ahead back towards his
own neighborhood about a mile or so down.  The night had already arrived.
The moon had risen to its full shape above the neighborhood, a single
luminescent orb that washed Coxville in a gentle azure glow.  Crickets
bayed in the distance, and the moths could be seen circling underneath the
nearby street lamps.
   "Hey dear", said Harold in a less than confident tone as he walked up to
the front door.  "How was my queen's day?" he asked, leaning his head
forward to kiss her on the mouth, but was only given her cheek after she
turned her head to the left at the last moment.
   "It was fine Harold", said Jenny in a less than vigorous reply and more
of slack drawl hinting of boredom.
   "Anything interesting happen today?" he asked, a part of his mind
subconsciously looking back at the fading image of West as he walked
further down the street.
   Jenny was silent for a moment.
   "Well..."
   ...
   During the book club meeting earlier that evening, a small skirmish had
broken out in the Summer's house in the wake of Jenny's tutelage.
   "What do you mean you're going next!?" said Ivana to Anya in a near
yell. "I was the only one who was able to make Samson come during oral
practice, so I should be the one who gets to practice riding first."
   Sammy, Anya, Bianca, and Ivana were standing in a circle that gave all
of them less than a foot of personal space as they bickered with one
another.  They had -somehow and very oddly- actually found themselves in a
tumult over who would be the next to get in physical practice on the young
stud as he sat in sweaty muscled heap on Harold's reclining chair.  His
cock, which had been buried firmly inside Jenny Summer's mere moments
before, had simmered down to only half hard after hitting its third climax
of the evening.
   "Besides, he said it himself, that I was a natural, not oh my god Anya,
you're making me come.  That proves I did the best."
   In her mind Ivana honestly couldn't believe that she was really having
this argument with the girls, her closest and (mostly) dearest friends. 
Four married women, bickering like school girls over who'd be next to mount
the young black man.  She felt foolish and more than a bit immature, but
only until her thoughts shifted back on how thoroughly satisfying it had
been having that huge swollen piece of dark flesh firmly jammed in her
mouth and down her throat.  The mere memory of it, its rich taste and manly
odor had made her mouth water.  The sensation of her lips being tightly
wrapped the shaft and the weight of it as she attempted to jam it further
down her throat sent her into a ravenous glee that she noticed made her
hands tremble with excitement even then.
   "Only caz you toke two turns Ivana", retorted Anya sharply, her dark
eyes peering at Ivana with equal fervor.  "I never know if Siamsoon would
come for Anya, coz Ivana is selfish!"
   "Selfish?!" gasped Ivana.
   "Da, selfish.  Like hog!"
   "Hog?!" Ivana blurted.
   Ivana could tell that the same distinct feeling, the overwhelming hunger
and satisfaction had infected Anya, along with the other girls as well. 
All their eyes held a wide, almost glazed look of desire in them. 
Something had gotten to them.  They'd all gotten a taste of big black cock,
dipped into the dark honey pot, and it had unlocked something feral inside
them all.
   "Why I...How dare you!"
   "Yeah, that's not fair Ivana.  You can't go first after taking two turns
at oral." chimed in Sammy, her cheeks puffing into a pout that in turn made
her freckles seem to pop with extra color.  "I had the shortest time
practicin, so I should go next", she added.
   "With all due respect Sammy" interrupted Bianca, "I believe I was the
one who had the shortest time.  That and the added fact I went last during
the oral portion of our...training.  Therefore I believe it would only be
fair if I went next."
   With that Bianca left the circle as if she were going to mount the young
man right then and there.
   Oh shit, 3B's up next?  Thought the weary Samson.
   "No vay" shot back Anya.  "I had shortest time sucking Siamsoon, I shud
go necks".
   "Now wait just a minute Anya-"replied Bianca.
   The argument continued and soon rose to a fever pitch, until Jenny's
voice finally shot in over the discord.
   "Ladies ladies, calm down!" she said.  "Look, I know you're all very
eager to get your turn.  But arguing over it won't do anything but set each
other off."
   Jenny, who had only moments ago come down from the precession of orgasms
she had atop Samson, had pulled his huge member out of her and turned her
sweaty naked form to sit on his lap in the reclining chair.  She would give
an occasional heavy breath as a result of her previous excursions.
   "Besides", she said after another breath, "the boy's only got so much in
him to give.  It's not fair to expect him to take on all you girls in one
night."
   She stroked the underside of Samson's chin with one hand affectionately.
   "Isn't that right dear?" she said with a smile.
   "Shiit", replied Samson, putting on his best cocky grin to hide his
exhaustion.  "I'm a little tired, but I think I've-"
   "See", shot Jenny before he had a chance to finish.
   "The boy's tired girls, so let's give him a rest."
   The girls faces all dropped as if they had just been informed Christmas
and Valentine's Day had just been placed on permanent hiatus.
   "Well when we get our turns?" asked Anya with the same sour tone in her
voice, arms crossed.
   Jenny stood up from Samson's lap, got back to her feet, and began
gathering her discarded clothing from different points on the hardwood
floor.
   "Well..." Jenny began.  "That's an interesting question Anya.  I was
thinking about that while watching you all".  Jenny slipped her panties and
skirt back on, breaking her sentence as she did to build emphasis.
   "You girls all did exceptionally well and I really do want all of you to
get...equal treatment."
   Jenny slipped her white blouse back on, and buttoned them up once more.
   "So I thought, maybe this would be a perfect opportunity for you all to
go out and get your very own."
   There was a long stint of silence before Jenny continued.
   "Wait...what?" Came a bewildered Ivana.
   "You've all definitely got what it takes, and after tonight's
performance I think it wouldn't be difficult at all for ya'll to go out
there and grab some big black cocks for yourselves."
   Sammy, Ivana, and Anya all shot glances at one another, the puzzle
pieces of Jenny's proposition forming beginning to form a whole picture in
their minds simultaneously.
   "Vait", started Anya.  "So, you vant us to go and find other cooks of
bleck in town, by our own selves?"
   "Well it doesn't have to be by yourselves.  Group efforts are fun too,
but you'll never get the full experience unless you go out there and try it
yourself."
   "But...that's absurd!" interjected Bianca.  "I can't believe you'd
propose something so...so", Bianca's words died in her lips.  She had
wanted to say how appalling the idea was, how revolting the mere thought of
them all roaming the town, looking for black men to bed like some breed of
common slattern was.  It was disgusting.  She wanted to say as such, but
for some reason, she just couldn't bring herself to say the words aloud. 
Every time she tried, the memory of having Samson's massive cock sitting
heavy in her mouth and his large hand cupping her ass popped into view,
sideswiping any premeditated notions of protest.  In the end the only thing
Bianca could bring herself to say was,
   "But we're all married."
   Jenny laughed, almost throwing her head back she chuckled so hard.
   "So am I BB" said Jenny with a smirk.  "I'm married, with a child,
working, and getting black cock's just like Samson on the side on regular
basis.  I've been enjoying the benefits of all of it.  If I can do it; you
girls definitely can.  Ain't you girls ever heard of multitasking? 
Besides, being married didn't seem to stop you from getting a big mouthful
of Samson's cock tonight, now did it?"
   Bianca lifted a finger as if to present with a counter-point, but again,
her mind failed to draw the proper set of words when the time came for her
speak again.  She merely stood there, frozen in place with her mouth wide
open.
   "Hold on a minute", came Sammy from behind Bianca.
   "So...there are other black guys that are hung like Samson and the fella
on the video in town?"
   The question seemed rather late by comparison to the current matter at
hand, but alas, the girls all turned to Jenny in expectation of an answer.
   "In this town?  Ones like you wouldn't believe girl", assured Jenny with
a wave of her hand.  "Samson, tell the girls, are all the black guys in
Coxville hung like you?"
   The girl's eyes all fell to the young man.
   "...Well...perfectly honest...no..." he said.
   The girls faces all dropped in unison, a heavy blow being thrown to
their hearts.
   "Awww..." pouted Sammy.
   Jenny turned around in surprise with an added hint of anger at the naked
youth's answer.  Samson's face abruptly perked up and turned into a slight
grin when he said,
   "There are plenty of niggas who're bigger than me...no homo or nothing.
I don't be lookin at em like that and shit, but you know..."
   Their faces all exploded at this statement.
   "Bigger?!" they all said in unison.
   Holy cow, I couldn't take half of what he's got, and he's telling us
there are black men in town that are huger than THAT, Sammy thought.  My
word, I can't even imagine something bigger than that, pondered Bianca.  No
fucking way, I almost choked to death getting that thing down my throat,
and he's saying they come even bigger, thought Ivana in disbelief.  Black
men in Coxville bigger than Samsoon?  Thought Anya, her jaw dropping open.
   "Yeah..." he added a moment later at random, as though he mentally heard
their thoughts.
   The three girls pondered this new revelation, and thoughts send fresh
currents of desire crackled between their legs.  They did not speak aloud,
only shot each other matching stares of disbelief at the prospect of their
endeavors this evening only being a...dare they thought...average showcase
of black men's skills.
   "Wow!" said Sammy.
   "So girls..." came Jenny.  "What do you think about that, wanna play?"
   ...
   Afterwards Sammy, Anya, Ivana, and Bianca had left Jenny's house with
only a slightly more convinced take on the matter.  They all agreed that
what they had witnessed, shared, participated in, had been unlike anything
they had ever seen, touched, tasted, or felt in their lives.  However they
also concurred with one another that they were still bound to their status
and role as housewives.  Even Anya, who took her role as nothing more than
a title, had showed reluctance out of worry of what would happen if Tom had
somehow become aware of her actions, and how the possible negative effects
that would effect her current lifestyle (a bitter though comfortable one).
All the same, Jenny laid down the ground rules with them, and despite their
reluctance, the four of them listened intently.  The rules were heavily
rooted in Ifs.  IF they were each to venture out on their own, and IF they
decided to hunt for their own black stud/s that were said to dwell in
droves in the southern streets of Coxville, that they would be obligated to
share the story and whatever evidence they were able to salvage from the
tryst.  Any lingering doubts as to the hows and wherefores took a backseat
to the forerunning question of when the girls would convey their
experiences to one another.  IF they decided to perhaps, alter the clubs
focus of future meetings, tweak the format a bit, it would be done with the
utmost secrecy.  IF they were to share their tales to one another at the
following meeting, they would be doing so with the guarantee that it would
be told within a closely knit circle of trust, for one being exposed would
by relation expose them all after tonight's festivities.
   Jenny all the while made it known that the girls weren't being pressured
into doing anything they didn't want to do.
   "It's just a suggestion" she said, but with something unspoken hidden
behind it.  "I just see a lot of potential in you all.  You've all got a
natural talent for taking on the heavy hitters, don't they Samson dear?"
   "Ohhh yeah Mrs.  Jenny", said Samson approvingly, his mind falling back
to how each woman's mouth felt on his cock, and savoring the prospect of
how each woman would be in a full on fuck.  If his body weren't so
exhausted, he'd try to find out for himself exactly how good each woman
was.
   IF they were going to pick this newly presented concept of "physical
activity" up, then they would meet at her house the following week, the
same schedule as their book club meeting, to engage in the telling of their
tales, and then proceed to rotate from house to house in their traditional
fashion so as not to arouse any suspicion from any who may notice.  In
response the girls said nothing.  Ivana looked at Jenny, then Samson, and
pondered what Jenny's game was.  Was Jenny attempting to cover her own
tracks by getting the rest of them to engage in the same lewd behavior she
had been involved with?  Given them Samson as something of an endorsement
or free sample, in order to bait them into becoming just as smutty and
nasty as she was?  And if so, if that were the case, why did Ivana not feel
nearly as offended as she knew she should be?  Was it because the girls had
already given into their wanton nature in sucking the young man nearly dry,
and therefore affirming their devious nature?  The videotape, the wet
slapping sounds, the weight of Samson's huge cock pushing itself down her
throat assailed her mind's eye in a precession or images.  It certainly
seemed that way, certainly left the girls with few options aside from
agreeing to Jenny's proposal.  A kind of gesture stated if you're gonna be
damned, might as well make the most of it.  Samson then told them that, IF
the girls wanted, he could easily pass the word on to all of his boys to
keep an eye out for the girls around town, inform them that there were some
new sexy players willing to have a go with the bruthas in the small town of
Coxville.
   "Not that I'll need to say much to convince them", he added.
   Sammy, Anya, Bianca, and Ivana shot each other questioning glances, all
of them trying to grasp some sort of answer or advice psychically from one
another.
   "Just some food for thought ladies.  If you want it...go get it",
uttered Jenny in a seductive whisper, letting the words seep into the
women's ears and sink into the pool of their thoughts.
   ...
   The girls later all walked out of the house, uncertain, but all the same
shivered at the thought of the following week.  If they weren't interested,
they simply didn't have to show up, but if they did... Jenny saw them off
as Harold walked into the living room of the house.  The middle aged man
was exhausted, and his only thought was to come in and take a load off in
his favorite reclining chair.  He angled himself just in front of it, and
fell back with an audible sigh.  Immediately as his back hit the surface of
the chair, he felt the wetness still slicked atop its surface.  The chair
made an odd shifting sound, one that only emitted from chairs after
excessive use.  He thought at first that this was merely a mental trick,
perhaps an imagined feeling of moisture.  The smell however, suggested
otherwise.  It was an odd, vaguely pungent scent.  It smelled strange, but
strangely familiar.
   "What the hell?" Harold said out loud, turning himself in the chair and
checking its position and surface with his hand.
   There was definitely wetness on it, a lingering array of what he could
only make out to be sweat and...something else.  Something that struck him
as very familiar.  The smell, for some reason, registered another scent
that he had matched with it.  This smell, this odor reminiscent of body
heat and physical labor -something Harold hadn't been familiar with in some
time- had since been matched in Harold's mind with that of chlorine.  The
chlorine of a pool.  This thought in turn gave rise to a memory of last
summer, and very particular pool party held by his wife and daughter that
made Harold's stomach lurch.
   "J-Jenny!" came Harold in more of a whimper than a boom.
   "What Harold?" came Jenny as she closed the front door.
   "Did you..." his tongue cut itself off at the thought.  He didn't want
to presume, but with such a strong set of evidence, and that damned smell
that was now assailing his nostrils, he couldn't help but assume the worst
about what had transpired before his arrival home after a long and arduous
day at the office.  Jenny strode in, arms folded as though she were
actually about to scold Harold for something.
   "Well...what is it?" she repeated, with even less patience in her voice
this time.
   A moment passed, and Harold looked down at the chair, pressing a hand
into the soiled cushioning, hearing the wet light squeak of whatever
liquids had seeped into the fabric.  His eyes shot up to his wife, whose
returned glance was even sterner now as she awaited his response.
   "My reclining chair, its...its all wet."
   "Yeah", said Jenny in a cold and blunt retort.  "Sammy accidentally
spilled lemonade on your chair earlier."
   "Oh..." replied Harold.
   "We cleaned it up best we could, but she got a lot on there pretty good.
You know how clumsy she is, the poor thing."
   "Clumsy...yeah...right."
   Jenny sighed, outwardly expressing frustration.
   "Don't pout, it'll come out if you clean it.  If you're feeling that
sore about it, go buy some Spot-Be-Gone at the store and scrub it til it
cries."
   Harold said nothing, just shifted his weight on the cushion and making
it keen with a squish,squish.
   Jenny shook her head as though somehow...disappointed.
   "I got you some TV dinners.  They're in the freezer, help yourself.  I'm
going to take a shower, I'm exhausted", she said in a mix of a terse grunt
and a sigh at the word exhausted.
   Without another word, she turned and headed upstairs towards their
bedroom.  Harold was too preoccupied with touching on the wet portions of
his precious couch to notice the silver DVD that glinted gently in Jenny's
hand as she made her way up the stairs.  Harold looked around the living
room, surveying his surroundings.  He saw nothing was out of place or moved
to an awkward location.  Everything was as it should be as far as he saw,
until he looked down at the floor.  Just in front of him, near the coffee
table and plum center of the living room, was a small puddle.  A very small
circle of what Harold looked (hoped) to be water.  He shifted forward,
making the chair give another wet squeak, and he stared at it harder.  A
clear liquid that had been spilled in the middle of the floor.  His mind
went over several different possibilities as to how the substance came to
get there, none of which were spoken ever spoken aloud.
   "Lemonade...must be more lemonade" Harold said out loud, almost as
though in an attempt to will himself into believing that's what it was.
   ...
   Ivana Swallows walked home in a daze.  The aftermath of an evening gone
wrong in so many ways.  She couldn't believe her careful planning had
fallen apart so thoroughly.  What she could believe even less is how
thoroughly she had made herself a willing participant in that failure.  It
was supposed to be the fall of her lifetime rival Jenny Summers, not the
awakening of whatever craven sexual urges that had been stirring in Ivana's
loins.  And what strong urges they had been indeed.  Never in her life had
she been so aroused, as amazed and wanton with her sexual desires as when
she saw that huge black cock slide in and out of her mouth, slick and
shimmering with her own spit.  The girls were too entranced with the sight
to take notice of the small wet puddle that had formed on the floor just
beneath her.  She had been wet, dripping wet at the feeling its resulting
resonations through her body.  She wanted that black beast's huge thing in
her more than anything, though she'd never admit it to anyone outwardly. 
She wanted it to the degree that she lost all sense of self and time.  At
the proposed idea of Jenny's...modified club objected, she had said nothing
in protest.  It was crude, crass, and completely defiant of her wholesome
southern roots.  But my pussy was so wet at the idea of it, she thought to
herself.  It pained her to think it, to admit it to herself, but Jenny's
idea was brilliant.  She couldn't ignore it, nor could deny the rush of
excitement when Sampson made his confession that he was by no the means the
end all to huge black cocks in town.  This confession automatically brought
Ivana back to the night of the basketball game, and that huge flopping mass
she saw hidden just below the thin layer of clothing on that one young,
muscular black youth.  His body, his deep brown skin, that incredible thick
pillar resting just between his legs made her legs shake as she walked down
the dimly lit streets, and neared her house.  As she approached her
doorstep, a question echoed in Ivana's mind.  Why not, she thought.  She
had made up her mind before she even passed the threshold of her front door
and closed it behind her.  Before she removed her coat and placed it on the
nearby coat rack, and long before she slipped herself into her lavish
bathtub with gloriously hot water and bubbles.  This will work just as well
as my other plan.
   The idea was simple enough, simple and deliciously effective in theory.
Going along with Jenny's little game of unleashing the girls out on the
town.  The lot of them, trying to elevate their sexual prowess to her
level, and then gauging their worth.  All the while, Jenny would be so
comfortable with her experience she won't even see Ivana coming.  Usurping
her status as Queen of Coxville right out from under her upturned nose. 
Yes it was low.  Yes it was a debasement of her southern roots.  And yes it
would require her to do things that she'd never, even in her wildest
fantasies, even remotely consider doing.  But alas, if that was what it
took to finally show Jenny who was boss, then so be it.  After all, there'd
be no denying Ivana as her better if she outdid her in that particular
activity, now would there?  Alright, fine, I'll play along.  I'll get
Jenny, by getting as much big black cock as I can.
   The more Ivana thought about it, the more idea formulated into being a
win or win situation.  Watching the video from the game had been the
confirming bit of evidence; the response her body had given during her
training had reaffirmed and brought to the surface what Ivana had only been
subconsciously aware of up until that that night.  Big black cock was...to
put it bluntly, amazing.  Unlike anything she'd ever imagined sexually. 
And the idea of getting it herself, having it fill her moist pussy, struck
her as almost as big of triumph as defeating Jenny.  I'll show her, show
her what happens when she lays a challenge in front of Ivana Swallows. 
I'll outdo that bitch at her own game.  I'll find the biggest, blackest
cocks in this town, and make her, and the other girls' jaws drop at how I
handle it.  It would be perfect.  It coincided perfectly with an old saying
she had heard.  If you can't beat them, join them...until you can beat
them. I'll beat you Jenny Summers.  Soon I'll be showing you how to take
black cock...just you wait.  This thought became a mantra, one repeated
over and over again in her mind as she slipped back into the mass of
bubbles, and a devious smirk etched across her full lips that turned to an
O as she slid two fingers into the water and between her legs, her mind
trailing back to night of the game, and the basketball player she had
accidentally recorded.
   To be continued.
   Pushing Deep - Sammy's Story
   Samantha Spitzmen began her morning in much the same fashion she had
every day for about a long as she could remember.  She slipped and stumbled
out of bed and onto the carpet of her spacious bedroom with dull thud in a
burst of cheerful fervor.  Her leg somehow always managed to become tangled
in the silk sheets, and had tugged her backwards as she attempted hopping
from her king sized bed.  The fall and subsequent noise hadn't so much as
stirred a brow in Sammy's husband Steven, who had been lying next to her
with his head buried in two of their four white pillows.  He continued to
snore, a deep near guttural bellow of inhaled and exhaled air, and did not
churn or make the slightest motion as the covers slid away from him during
Sammy's fall.  He simply continued his foray of catching Z's, his deep
breaths making him resemble a bear in midst of hibernation.
   "Ouch!  Darn it" uttered Sammy as she pulled herself up and headed
towards her bathroom.
   It was a quarter to six in the morning, and her bright green eyes beamed
with a breed of glow that would have seemed inconceivable to most others
upon waking so early in the hours of the day.  To anyone unfamiliar with
the redhead, such energy at this hour without the assistance of caffeine
would have either been classified as wholly preposterous, or attributed to
the use of some otherworldly drug.  Samantha, "Sammy" to her friends and
family, strode to her bathroom in a spirited glide, stubbing her toe
however against the threshold of the bathroom door as she entered.
   "Ouch, dang it!" she said.
   She went about her daily routine of brushing her teeth and washing her
face, and dressing herself in a simple pair of thigh high shorts and a
plain white-t shirt that was fitted to her slender frame, but cut off just
above her belly-button.  What with it being so early in the morning, she
only lightly went through her short red hair in the mirror, and spent only
a minimal amount of time appraising herself in the mirror.
   Sammy was a modest girl when it came to her looks.  A modest girl though
Sammy was, she couldn't often help but feel a fair bit impressed by the
woman who composed her reflection.  Sammy was short, all of five feet and
an added three inches, and was considered to be the smallest amongst her
group of friends and family.  This fact never seemed to bother her much
however, as the counterbalance to her impish height came in spades when
analyzing the rest of her body.  Her big, bright green pupils shown like
twin jade jewels encased in the surrounding milk color of the rest her
eyes. They struck many as dazzling, being noted as almost catlike in
appearance when they were taken in with the image of her smallish facial
features.  She had tiny button nose and a shapely mouth that held ever so
slightly plumped lips that seemed to complete as well as water down her
complexion.  The sides of her lips curved at a slightest upward angle, a
facial feature said to hail from her Scottish ancestry, and what many in
her family jokingly called a "natural Glasgow smile".
   At twenty-six she maintained a facial appearance of a girl not a day
older than twenty or so.  This was often speculated to be the case upon
meeting those who were not privy to her actual age.  Her fiery red hair
hung in full wavy curls that hovered at the middle point of her neck when
she'd let it down.  In ways of body, Sammy Spitzmen did not have an ounce
of excess or unnecessary fat on her figure.  While many other women her age
often began to puff and fill out in the mid section and other areas, Sammy
maintained a lean, lithe, and curvy frame.  Well defined, yet strikingly
effeminate muscle laced the entirety of her body.  Her shoulders were sharp
and angular, and sculpted just enough that there was the slightest lift in
her deltoids, which linked to a set of slim, though even more defined arms.
Her torso was a slim pillar of white that shaped inward on her twenty-three
inch waist, just before it curved outwards towards her hips, which remained
full and curvaceous.  Strewn about Sammy's stomach was a series of tight
upper and lower abdominals that were punctuated with a full and sharp V
shape that started just below her pelvis, and traveled outwards.  Her legs
and thighs were even more impressive, as they were smooth and equally
defined.  Small lines along the meaty portions of her upper thighs could
visibly be seen when Sammy wore a skirt, shorts, or tight enough fitting
pants.  Her lower legs and ankles were sharp and straight, and enhanced the
look of her strong calves, which shifted into a heart shape of muscle if
one paid attention to her putting pressure on the area.
   While Sammy was trim, the more effeminate parts of her still were
visible and more than fairly bountiful.  Sammy had full round breasts.  She
was a solid C-cup that was just shy of a full D, which proved to be a bit
of an obstacle containing during her vigorous workouts, but one that she
was not so irksome that she allowed it to discourage from engaging in them.
They shifted upward slightly, and peaked at her matching pair of deep pink
nipples, which had always been incredibly sensitive for some reason.  It
was a bit of a contrast to the rest of her smallish features.
   While her sister Bobbie Sue was tall and long limbed, Sammy was rather
on the boney side when they were young.  It had shocked her somewhat when
she they had begun to grow and fill out (almost overnight it seemed) in her
later years.  The roundness and perky angle of them she found them to be
(at times) off putting compared to her frame.  The same situation applied
to Sammy's rear as well.  While not as large by the comparison to her
friend's posteriors - which were all shapely and sizable and very beautiful
as far as she was concerned - it carried a remarkable amount of cushion and
roundness as well.  It was a plump heart-shaped posterior that many
individuals in Coxville would have agreed was "athletically perfect if
petite".  Sammy's ass had grown in around the same time as her breasts had,
and it had baffled her much in the way when she noticed how much it
actually stuck out in outfits.  Not to the degree that Sammy's good friend
Bianca's ass had to be sure, but certain silk dresses, high cut shorts, and
tight fitting pair stretch pants greatly emphasized its shape.  Her
workouts hadn't trimmed it down so much as slightly elevate it, and shift
its softness into a slightly more muscular mass.  All the same, she still
found it to be very impressive, and it was one of the parts of her that
Steve would quite often enjoy (when he was up for it that is).  He wouldn't
hesitate to give it a playful pinch or smack simply to see the bit of
softness it did have jiggle and the subsequent giggle that would squeak out
of Sammy as a result.
   Sammy's fruits of physical diligence had proven to be well worth the
amounts of sweat and she'd shed daily, with an added benefit - she later
discovered - of a natural glow that beamed from her skin in a light sheen.
Her skin was a shade of white meshed with healthy pinkish tones that would
always appear to be amplified after a particularly intense workout, which
then cooled to an amber-like hue after she got out of a shower.  Heavy
emphasis on personal hygiene and diet had made her skin appear to be made
of fine marble.  Many men (and quite a few women) in town had gone so far
as to say that Sammy had a perfect body.  And while the gorgeous little
redhead was taught at a very young age that modesty was the greatest means
to convey ones assets, indeed, all things considered, Sammy considered
herself to be one sweet looking number if she didn't say so on her own
behalf.  So much that it almost offset how much of klutz she was.
   After giving herself one last approving glance to her stomach and hips,
she smiled at her reflection, and headed from her bedroom, and downstairs
into the kitchen.  Not before however slipping onto her behind half way
down the steps.
   "Ow!" she squeaked as she landed on the step.
   When she got to her wide open kitchen however, her clumsiness altogether
vanished.  Immediately she began cooking, preparing the breakfast that her
beloved husband Steve would undoubtedly consume with a ravenous and
unrelenting pace after waking up.  She knew him well enough by now that
while the noises of her activities wouldn't be the slightest bit effective
in stirring him from deep bear-like slumber, the robust smell of bacon,
eggs, and homemade waffles would most definitely awaken him quicker than
smelling salts ever could.  In stark contrast to her accident prone nature,
Sammy moved about the kitchen with a grace that almost seemed to be out of
a long practiced ballet, all the while humming to herself as she battered,
cracked, flipped, poured, and maneuvered around the wide open space
kitchen. The smell of the meat cooking, sure enough, summoned Steve within
moments.  For the strangest of reasons - ones to which not even Sammy had
the foggiest clue- her clumsiness seemed to dissipate when she was involved
in two things: the first being any and all household chores that engaged
in.
   She figured it must have been some sort of trigger in her brain that
flipped whenever she was in the process of cooking or cleaning that caused
her turn instantly from being all thumbs and left feet as her grandmother
would say, to a wafting, swaying being of grace and precision.  Of all the
scuffs, scrapes, bumps, and bruises Sammy had accumulated over the years,
not one was acquired while she was in the process of cleaning a room, or
creating a meal.  Not a single one.
   Steve Spitzmen, Sammy's husband of a solid year now, lumbered down the
steps soon after Sammy neared the final stages of her cooking.  Steve was a
broad man, tall and barrel chested, with a tuft of straight strawberry
blonde hair that was thinning in certain areas.  Steve had a bit of a gut,
which Sammy didn't find particularly appealing, but did not find it
appalling to the degree she felt it merited voicing protest.  As he ended
his path down the stairs he stretched and yawned in his white silk morning
robe, both his big hairy arms raised in a V.
   "Mornin sugar" formed from Steve's yawn as he leaned in over Sammy's
shoulder.  "How's my little rosebud doin this morning?", he nuzzled her
with his lips, his chin hairs brushing against Sammy's cheek and neck and
making her giggle.
   "Steeeve, stop it that tickles", Sammy giggled, her heavy southern
accent seeping out in a falsetto pitch.
   "I know, I just like doin it to hear you make that noise."
   Steve playfully smacked her bottom and it wobbled accordingly.
   "I didn't hear you come home last night", Sammy said.
   "Yeah, we were at the site way longer than expected.  Swear the god
they're tryin to work us to the bone on this one.
   "How'd your book thing go last night?"
   Sammy had been in mid flip of turning an egg sunny side up when she
heard Steve's question, and hearing it had caused her to fumble the egg
sloppily onto the skillet, folding it into a mess of yellow and white. 
Blunders like that never occurred while Sammy cooked, ever.
   "Uh-it was..." the memory causing the rest of whatever she was about to
say to trail off into some obscure mumble.
   Amazin, totally incredible, the most intense night of my life, she
thought in rapid succession.  None of those words would have been
appropriate to describe her feelings on what she had taken part of the
previous night at Jenny Summer's house, and even less appropriate to say to
her husband.  Steve, who was (often enough) attentative to what she had to
say would want to know all about why her verdict for the night was such a
fond one.  Why was it so awe inspiring, incredible, and so thoroughly
intense?  Sammy knew she most certainly couldn't explain it, much less go
into any semblance of detail.  Most of what had occurred a meager handful
of hours ago she still barely believed herself.  The sights, sounds,
tastes, and so forth that filled and overloaded her senses that night
existed in Sammy's mind now as a distant, though incredibly vivid dream. 
She could hardly explain it herself, let alone make sense of how she
herself behaved.
   "Sugar?" came Steve's voice from a seemingly far distance from Sammy's
perspective.
   "It was...great" she said.
   Great was the perfect word to use.  Not too grandiose to merit further
description or explanation, and not too watered down to allude of anything
being kept from him, a perfect middle ground that would undoubtedly leave
Steve satisfied.  Sammy had then gotten back into the rhythm of preparing
Steve his breakfast.  She assembled the last few pieces of the meal, poured
him a tall glass of orange juice (no pulp of course), placed the piece of
wheat toast on the plate, and placed it on the kitchen table in one
seamlessly elegant motion.
   "Enjoy", she said with a smile.
   Steve immediately dug into the plate without a word, filling his face
with a spoon full of egg.  Still chewing Steve then said,
   "Thanks babe, perfect as always", a goop of egg flying from his mouth
with the word babe.
   Sammy just eyed him, adoringly, though she couldn't shake the slightest
bit of annoyance towards his table manners.  Steve was rather tactless when
it came to certain things, and his attempt to check them in public or in
the presence of others was a lax one at best.  Sammy had always figured
this was simply a part of what it meant to be married, learning to accept
and manage the flaws found in the person you've promised to share the rest
of your life with.  She had certainly put forth a strong effort to check
her own bad habits in his presence, and it wasn't too much of a stretch to
say that she had done a more than decent job of containing them.  However,
on the polar end it seemed her efforts went, for the most part, unnoticed
by Steve.  He'd give affection when it seemed appropriate, gave mention to
and thanks when Sammy labored for him, but, it seemed with an increasing
regularity, that Steve's appreciation seemed to peak at the bare minimum.
Sammy knew it was an absurd idea to be so bent out of shape over so small a
gesture as food falling from one's mouth while eating, but still...a part
of Sammy, for the briefest of moments, really really soaked in the urge of
just then wanting to slap Steve right in the back of the head, and tell
him, in the same tone and pitch that her mother used to use when scolding
her as a child,
   Only piglets and poppers talk with their mouths full!
   However, despite this spark of inner frustration, Sammy pushed the
feeling down, and continued watching her husband eat in silence.
   "Where's your plate?" Steve asked.  "Aren't you eating too?"
   "No dear, I had a protein bar and a glass of OJ earlier.  You know I
don't like to take in too many calories in the morning before I go to the
gym."
   Steve nodded his head up and down as if remembering, but remained silent
and kept chewing, fearing she'd bring up (again) a desire for him to join
her the next time she went
   "Right..." he eventually said.
   A moment of silence, and Sammy continued to watch him eat from across
the table.
   "Any chance you'll get off work early tonight?" she asked in attempt to
break the awkward silence.
   In response Steve sighed.
   "Doubt it, they've been workin us harder than a hundred black mules
fresh outta Mexico.  And what with Jackson filling in right now, things
have slowed down to near molasses speed."
   "Jackson?" Sammy asked, keeping the tempo of conversation.
   "Yeah, he's acting as foreman while Smith is out with a busted leg.  I
told you this a couple weeks ago."
   "Ah, right" Sammy lied, not remembering him saying anything at all
during the few conversations they'd actually had time to have over the last
month or so.
   "I mean, don't get me wrong, he's a good worker, just..."
   "Just what?" Sammy asked curiously.
   "He's black, so you know...he moves slower than most of us would like."
   Sammy remained silent, and after another bite of toast and hefty swig of
orange juice Steve continued.
   "I mean, don't get me wrong, that's not because I think he's any less
smart than anyone on the crew or anything.  It's just that the guy takes
way too much time organizing and reorganizing everything.  Every single
detail he goes over with a fine comb.  I know he's got a lot riding on this
job, lord knows we all do, but jeez, when is careful too careful you know?
   Sammy just listened, nodding her head.
   Steve finished the last few bites of his meal and washed it down with
the remaining ounce of his orange juice.
   "It's like he's trying to be on his best behavior to impress everyone.
Like the guy has something to prove.  It's making everything move at less
than half speed.  Gets on your nerves after a while's all I'm sayin."
   Sammy continued to nod, but thought critically to herself.  Well, did
you stop to think that maybe Jackson is just being sure he doesn't repeat
the mistake your other boss made before he broke his leg?  She kept this
thought buried however, not wanting to rock the boat or start conflict over
something so trivial so early in the day.  Sammy just smiled, and after
Steve had finally finished eating she cleared the plate and its remains off
the table.  She washed the dishes and continued her morning cleaning
routine, while Steve showered and dressed.  Twenty minutes later he
strolled downstairs in his workmen's clothes, and kissed his lovely
redheaded wife as she handed him a neatly arranged lunch inside a small
handheld cooler.  As Steve walked through the door, he gave Sammy his
signature wink and reminder that he'd be home late.  Standing at the open
front door of their two story suburban home, Sammy watched Steve as he
climbed into his truck, and marked his departure with a goodbye wave.  This
had been the steady flow of their relationship for the past month.  A
larger version of playing house that Sammy had, for a time, thought to be
fun.
   As Sammy went back inside and continued what chores she now had left,
she noticed a strange emptiness.  The large, wide open rooms and corridors
of their home hinted of no life, aside from the fainting scratching and
thin bumping noises as she moved furniture and wiped dirt from furnishings.
All the while Sammy couldn't help but feel lately as though, despite having
what to many of her family and peers considered to be the perfect life,
there was something missing.  A deep seeded chore that had yet to be
completed.
   Is that why I did it?  Sammy asked herself as she cleaned.  Is that why
I .Within an hour the energetic redhead had gone from top to bottom of her
two story house.  She'd cleaned the kitchen, bedroom, living room, dinning
room, hallways, and both bathrooms at a speed that almost would seem
superhuman to casual observer.  Sammy had gone through the entire house
without even conveying so much as a hefty sigh to portray fatigue.  The
house was left sparkling, and without even a speck of dirt or grime
showing. It was after surveying the immaculate household that Sammy then
spoke to herself.
   "Alright...now for the real work" she said, a sudden gleam in her eyes
showing from anticipation.
   In exactly two minutes Sammy had stripped down from her morning outfit,
and put on in its place a pair of thick white running socks, a pair of
black and red trainers, a pair of tight fitting black spandex shorts that
showed the entire structure and layout of her hips and taught ass.  The
final pieces were her fitted black sports bra that she wore under a tight
white t shirt that was cut off at the stomach to show her sculpted abs.  On
the shirt in bold black lettering were the words "push it" etched proudly
on the chest area, which were pursued up a fair bit from Sammy's perky
breasts.  Sammy grabbed her signature cotton sweat headband, and clasped it
onto with a light snap.  She grabbed her workout bag, which contained a
large and small towel, a book, and a large bottle of ice cold water from
the refrigerator, and in another second was out the door and into her car,
not before however taking a near tumble down the small set of stairs on her
front door.
   "Ouch!  Darn it!" yelped Sammy as she stumbled down the final two steps
after her foot somehow managed to brush incorrectly on the first, throwing
off her balance and almost causing trip into the driveway face first.
   After she collected herself, she climbed into her car, started the
engine, and pulled out of the driveway, Sammy had already pushed the
ominous thoughts out of her entirely, and was only focused, excited, and
mentally prepared for the task that was ahead.
   ...
   The Olympian Gym was a ten minute drive from Sammy's house.  Sammy had
sang aloud the whole way to the country tunes of the Dixie Chicks that had
been playing on her Ipod, which was set up the sound system of the car. 
After arriving at the gym, a huge establishment located in the most
expensive part of Coxville, she walked in through the large glass double
doors with a cold blast from the air conditioning.  The gym was all black
and white marble, with white and silver walls, all smooth edges and open
space.  The main lobby held several cushy couches, fit with health
magazines and brochures found on the glass table.  To the right of the
lobby was the front reception desk, which was manned by a tall, blonde and
skinny young man whom Sammy knew as Dale Walton.  Upon noticing her
arrival, Dale immediately smiled as Sammy walked through the door.
   "Mornin Dale", said Sammy with her signature pearly white smile and
thick southern drawl.
   "H-Hey Mrs.  Spitzmen" replied Dale, doing his best to keep his
composure, despite the increasing redness in his face totally giving him
away.  Sammy sighed.
   "How many times am I gonna have to tell you Dale, call me Sammy.  Mrs.
Spitzmen makes me sound like I belong in that dang water aerobics class for
the old folks."
   "Sorry Mrs-I mean, Sammy."
   Coming out of Dale's mouth the name sounded odd, far too forced
impersonal, even though it had only been a small pinch of years since he
had called her as such.
   "Just messin ya about Dale, relax.  Jeez, you never used to be this much
of a stiff when I'd baby sit you."
   Face still blushing, Dale shook his head.
   "I know.  It's just that I'm still considered the new guy here.  The
boss is really pushing the idea of us greeting everyone that comes in all,
you know?  Bein professional but extra friendly to all the members."
   That and the fact I can't get over how hot you always look in your
workout clothes, Dale thought.
   "I get ya.  Well relax, you're doing just fine", Sammy said, reaching a
hand over the counter and placing it gently on Dale's shoulder.
   The touch made Dale feel like he was on the verge of melting.  For the
longest time, as far back as Dale could remember, Sammy Spitzmen had always
been the living definition of beauty, vibrant health, and an almost
palpable sexual energy.  She was only about five years his senior, but in
his eyes she might as well have been an elder goddess in front of his
feeble twenty-one years.  So much that he simply couldn't keep a straight
face or maintain his composure when in her presence.  And in the off chance
she gave him any sort of kindly caress or made any form of playful physical
contact, he felt his entire body tense and then relax in ecstasy in what
were near -sometimes full on- orgasms.  He couldn't imagine what it must
have felt like to be her husband Steve - known more commonly in Dale's mind
as that unbelievably lucky prick - and to have the right to touch her back,
kiss her luscious pouty lips, explore her flawlessly toned body, and
indulge in other such erotic endeavors which Dale dared not imagine out of
mercy of keeping his pants clean.
   The moment soon passed however when Sammy abruptly pulled her hand away
to reach for the falling sign in sheet that Sammy had knocked over with her
bag.
   "Oh my gosh!" Sammy squealed as she kneeled over and picked at the
falling pieces of paper.
   Dale rushed from around the counter and kneeled down next to her to help
clear the mess.
   "I'm soooo sorry about that Dale" Sammy said.  "My grandma always says
I'm all thumbs and left feet."
   "Oh it's no problem Sammy" said Dale dismissively, forcing himself to
leave out the Mrs.
   Dale was well aware of Sammy's clumsiness, and had always actually found
it to be a rather adorable trait in the older woman.  Her bumbling ways to
him held a sort of abstract majesty in his eyes, a breed of innocence that
none of the other girls he knew in town seemed to possess.  After they
completed gathering the pieces of paper, they both rose.
   "Dang Dale", Sammy said with a slight start.
   "You grow another couple inches or what?"
   "Wha-What?"
   "You got taller didn't you?"
   "Oh...right", stammered Dale, pushing down how sexually loaded Sammy's
question had sounded coming from her lips.  He laughed nervously.
   "Nah...not really".
   Not unless you're talking about what's in my pants, he then thought.
   "No, I think you did.  You're what, 6'1" now?" She said, standing closer
to him and comparing their height.
   Sammy being so close to the young man, feeling her the outline traces of
her body brushing lightly against his caused him to stiffen and tense.
   "6'1 and 1/2" corrected Dale.
   "Wow...really?  Dang, I remember when you barely came up to my waist. 
You must have the girls fighting over you left and right."
   Dale's face went another shade of red.
   "Ha-ha, nah." He said coyly.
   "My mama always says modesty's the best way to show off your best sides,
but come on.  Tall good lookin fella like you, they must be lining up."
   Sammy giggled that sweet, high pitched signature laugh of hers and she
playfully punched at his stomach.
   "Well..." Dale then said, trying to maintain some semblance confidence
in front of the redhead.  He knew confidence went a long way with women,
especially sexy ones like Sammy.
   "I reckon there's maybe one or two girls at school that's slid me a
letter in class here and there."
   "Well there you go then, I knew it."
   "I mean, it's nothing serious.  Besides, I'm not really that interested
in any of the girls at my school."
   "Really?" said Sammy, her green eyes widening a bit with curiosity. 
"Why's that?"
   Dale timidly placed a hand behind his trimmed blonde head, his ocean
blue eyes forcing themselves to maintain eye contact with her green ones.
Dale had always found it difficult to look Sammy straight on, her green
eyes being entirely too bright and entrancing for him to face directly.
   "Well...I'm more into...older girls", he said, his blush betraying his
attempt to water down the statement.
   "Oh really?" said Sammy with a hint of genuine wonder.
   "Yeah..." said Dale nervously.
   Dale didn't know how to proceed.  He wanted to add older, sexier, more
elegant girls like you Sammy Spitzmen, but his mouth and cautious nature
would not allow him to be so bold.  He was just about to revert to another
plan of attack, the much safer yeah, older girls like you always seemed way
more attractive to me line, however the words died on his lips the moment
he heard someone behind Sammy yell.
   "Yo Slim D!" came deep silky voice from far end of the gym lobby.
   Dale was slapped out of his trance, and he looked up and ahead at the
same time that Sammy turned her back to him and towards the source of the
intruding voice.  Seven feet ahead of them in the lobby stood a tall, deep
brown skinned black man of a solid 6'4".  He was wearing a very tight
fitting plain white t shirt and an equally tight pair of vintage 1970s
style basketball shorts.  The shorts cut off at the upper leg, exposing the
man's long and immaculately muscled legs from a little higher than the half
way point.  He wore high white socks that had a dark blue stripe running
down the sides, and a pair of black and white trainers that were marked by
a signature wing design etched onto the back portion of the heel.  The man
was lean, but from head to toe was fitted with nothing but hardened muscle.
His deep brown complexion granted an additional bit of gloss, a healthy
natural glow that reflected from his nearly hairless physique.  He had
close cut jet black hair that lined his perfectly sculptured head, and
setup well his strong jaw line and powerfully masculine facial features. 
His face was clean shaven, and age wise he appeared to be anywhere in his
mid to late twenties, though he could have been a bit younger.
   "Have you seen Mr.  Dupree come in today?" boomed the black man from
across the lobby hall.  He didn't have any hint of a southern accent, his
inflections on particular syllables holding more of a Californian lilt. 
"He was supposed to be here round twenty minutes ago for his session."
   "Ye-yeah" came Dale nervously.  "He actually called in and said he
couldn't make it today, had a dentist's appointment or something like
that."
   "Oh" came the black man.  "Oh well, guess I'll get an extra hour to
myself to lift then.  Ha-ha".
   The black man laughed, glad to be free of his duties.  He then turned
and began to walk off in the opposite direction to the other side of the
gym, towards the treadmill and free weights zone.  Sammy's presence wasn't
overlooked by the tall ebony skinned male however.  Not in the slightest.
As he turned, his deep brown eyes stopped and appraised her thoroughly as
she stood there silent in the gym lobby.  She stared back at him almost
with as much fascination as he did to her, like a surprised doe in the face
of an oncoming truck, and the two of them spent a long silent moment frozen
in eye contact.
   This mutual exchange was not overlooked by Dale, who had lowered his
head to what would have been Sammy's line of sight and immediately tapped
her on the shoulder.  Sammy didn't respond to the first tap, and Dale had
to repeat the motion several more times, each tap with increasing pressure
until she finally shook her head upon feeling Dale's hand on her skin,
jumping slightly before coming back to her senses.  She turned back to face
the tall lanky blonde.
   "So..." Dale began, unsure of how to continue, but definitely wanting to
move passed what he thought he just saw in Sammy's eyes.  "You planning on
living in here or what?  You're in here about twice a day now-"
   "Dale..." Sammy interrupted.  "Who was that?"
   Dale gritted his teeth behind a tightly closed mouth.
   "Who?" he asked with an obvious bit of sarcasm and a pinch of bitterness
in his tone.  He let a second or two go by, letting Sammy stew for a moment
in waiting for his answer.  "Oh, that's just Dwayne.  He's some new
hot-shot trainer from out of town, moved here about a week ago."
   "Really?" said Sammy with a hint of genuine wonder on her face.  Her
eyebrows lifted.  "I certainly haven't seen him around here before."
   "Yeah", said Dale, "That's what pretty much everyone has been saying. 
Kind of came as a shock to folks when he first got here."
   "I'll bet", said Sammy, not catching the open venom packaged in Dale's
previous comment.
   Despite Dale's deep shade of sour resentment towards Sammy's sudden
(frankly odd) interest in the black man, he was grateful the redhead hadn't
asked him the meaning behind him referring to Dale as "Slim D".  Explaining
the nickname would have required him to go into the highly embarrassing,
totally damning yarn of how the following week, while he and a number of
other gym patrons had been dressing in the men's locker room after a
rigorous game of basketball, several of the men had made a reference to
Dale's penis size as she stripped out of his shorts.  While considered to
be the normal size in length (perhaps a bit longer than average at more
than six inches), Dale's penis was noted as being particularly thin in
girth.  Being equivalent perhaps to a few rolls of dimes clumped together
by a rubber band.  Dwayne, along with one of his friends (another black
male) had taken note of this, and had proceeded to chide and roast the
young blond.  Advising him never to attempt having a go with the mechanical
penis sharpeners.
   The ordeal ultimately led to Dale being dubbed "Slim-D" by the men, and
with Dale holding a palpable hatred for the black man ever since.  This
hatred was only fueled with the added jealousy which spawned from spying a
glimpse of Dwayne's own member, which was (by Dale's silent memory) so
massive that Dale had attempted to convince himself for days after that the
image was merely some trick of the light, or confabulation of his already
rattled self-esteem.  All the same, it had caused Dale to despise Dwayne,
and he'd not made it a point to engage in basketball or kindly banter with
the negro ever since.
   "And between us", started Dale, leaning in closer to Sammy and holding
up the back of his hand to near his mouth like a barricade, "that was the
real reason Mr.  Dupree didn't show up today.  Said that he wasn't gonna
have a muscle bound nigger tellin him what to do during his workout."
   To that Sammy didn't react, for she didn't quite know how to honestly.
Growing up in Coxville, in the further area of the suburbs no less, she had
always been taught to stay away from the people of color, or at the very
least to be as brief and taciturn with them as possible.  Sammy felt no
inner malice towards blacks, or anyone really for that matter.  She'd grown
up around them her entire life, and had found it difficult to carry the
seemingly boundless torch of malice that her family and many of her friends
appeared to have towards them.  Outward animosity and genuine hate towards
others never held any real significance to the bubbly redhead, yet she
ultimately felt that in order to keep her family and friends happy and
approving of her, she'd heed their counsel and stay clear of them, assuming
that her elders knew better.  On some unconscious level however, she
supposed she could understand a small portion of their logic in the sheer
physical response she herself often got from being around blacks.  When in
their company, passing them on the street, or being in any place where they
were near, she'd always felt a faint alertness overtake her body.  An
automatic reaction similar to the fight or flight response, or -by Sammy's
understanding- the surge of adrenaline one gets before an intense workout,
a slight pang of nervousness.  Because of this feeling, this faint
apprehension, Sammy had steered clear of those of the darker caste.
   That was back then however, back before she'd gained a deeper...insight
on black people, black men to be precise.  Sammy's good friend Jenny
Summers had showed her something the previous week, something incredible.
It was an odd chain of events that Sammy still didn't altogether comprehend
the details of, but remembered vividly and recalled that it ultimately had
led to what must have been the most incredible night of the young redhead's
life.  She'd learned that Jenny Summers, one of her best friends and elder
sister figure, a married mother, and fellow member of their town book club,
had been having herself an affair with -from what she described- a fair
number of other men in town.  Not even just men she discovered, but black
men.  The revelation had completely astounded them all to say the least.
   Sammy and the other girls had seen the proof for themselves in a video
that somehow found its way into Jenny's DVD player during the following
week's book club meeting, instead of the period piece film that was
supposed to be viewed that night.  Words couldn't describe Sammy's verdict
on the scene.  It had been the most shocking, paralyzing, scandalous,
sensual, and sexually aggressive thing she'd ever seen.  It winded her,
leaving her speechless (or as speechless as Sammy would ever be), like
watching a lion chase down a gazelle in the wild, or seeing a lavish
fireworks display for the first time.  The memory of it had sent pangs of
adrenaline down her neck and to the other regions of her body, very similar
to the ones she'd experience before going to the gym she oddly understood.
   "Well..." Sammy began, pushing down the thought and collecting herself
once again.  "His loss I guess.  Guy looks like he could carry bull on his
back like it was nothing." Sammy decided to play off her own initial
appraisal of Dwayne, though the effect he had on her could still be felt
slightly between her legs.
   "Meh steroids most likely", Dale shrugged.
   "Nah...I don't think so, he didn't have any of the signs."
   "Signs, what signs?" replied Dale.
   "Signs that he's using steroids.  You know, bad acne, jitters, uneven
muscle mass, overly sweaty, that kind of stuff."
   "Oh come on, how would you know, you're not a doctor."
   "No, I'm not, but I read a lot of interesting stuff in my health
magazines.  He didn't show any of the signs I came across, and his muscle
seemed all natural."
   Dale just stood there for a moment, slack jawed without a response.
   "Yeah well... I work with him directly, and let me tell ya, he's not
THAT strong.  I mean...yeah the guy does lift some pretty serious iron from
time to time, and he does have the gym record for most sit ups in five
minutes, and he did kind of lap me twice the other day on the
track...and...", Dale trailed off, not wanting to damn himself any further.
   "Where's he from?" asked Sammy.
   "Somewhere in California I reckon.  Says he was some sort of fighter
before he moved here.  You know, that MMA stuff."
   "Where those guys kick and punch each other upside the head and roll
around on the ground?" asked Sammy.
   "Yeah...something like that." Sniffed Dale.  He really didn't like
Sammy's interest in Dwayne.  "Looks pretty gay if you ask me, but hey,
different strokes for different folks."
   "Does he have any openings?  I've actually been looking for a new
trainer to give me a few pointers."
   "Pointers?!" came Dale with a start.
   "Have you looked in a mirror lately Sammy, you're flawless.  And you're
here so often most the members think you're a dang trainer.  What could you
possibly have to learn from him?" The disdain in Dale's voice now painfully
obvious in his tone.
   "Oh, you never know Dale", said Sammy.  "A real professional is always
good for teaching someone something new."
   And with that, Sammy turned away and headed for the treadmill and weight
lifting zone.
   "Anyhow, I'll see ya later Dale.  Tell your mom and dad I said hi next
time you see them."
   "Yeah...see ya later Sammy", came Dale.
   A look of confusion and stark disappointed crossed Dale's face as he
watched her walk away, his eyes following the rhythmic rocking of her
shapely hips and firm ass with each step, before falling to the meager bump
of his erection as it frustratingly brushed against the inside of his
pants. Watching the display made him almost instantly forget the emotional
pang of anger that he felt whenever he thought of his nickname "Slim-D".
   ...
   Sammy's workout generally lasted for about three hours give or take. 
Ten to fifteen minutes were dedicated to a thorough stretch and warming of
the limbs.  Another ten to fifteen minutes were spent on some light yoga
stretches she'd learned from her friend Anya to further prepare herself. 
She took her time, extending and curling her body in the seated twist,
lifting and pulling her lower back in the forwards and backwards-bend
position, sun salutations, and ending with a moderate stint of upward and
downward dog, all the while engaging in deep controlled breaths while
keeping her core tight and centered.  Mondays were aimed at her upper body,
so Sammy would then spend the first hour doing light but continuous reps on
her shoulders, arms, upper and lower back, before going into a solid hour
of intense cardio on the treadmill, before moving on to a solid twenty to
thirty minutes on the stationary bike, and lastly cooling herself down with
a thoroughly post workout stretch.
   She'd sweat, pant, inhale, exhale and push her body to its limit and
then go a bit more for good measure.  Shooting to top the number of reps
from her previous workout, but not rushing herself to the point they threw
off her form of made it sloppy.  Her face and body gradually took on a deep
shade of pink as her temperature rose and the blood inside her pumped
through her, keeping her going as she pressed the furthest boundaries of
her physical limits.  When the bulk of the exercises were over, she'd
exhale with satisfaction, an almost instant natural high attained from her
labors.
   The second thing Sammy's natural clumsiness seemed to fall dormant for
-strangely- was when she was in the midst of physical activity.  Not Sammy,
nor her family and friends could ever make any real sense of the nature of
it.  While Sammy was, as her grandmother worded all thumbs and left feet
ninety percent of the time for almost every other task, when physically in
motion with sports, weight lifting, or any other intense physical effort,
Sammy was precision and grace on two legs.  Her form and endurance went to
such a degree that many of the gyms patrons often came to the conclusion
that she was either a professional trainer, or a well versed professional
athlete who was in training for some grand event.  Many of the men would
stagger and stumble on their treadmills, lose the footing on their
stationary bikes, and forget the number and form of their rep entirely
whilst enjoying the show of her heavy breaths and motions and the
subsequent effect they'd have on her chest as she heaved in and out.
   They'd gaze at the perfect curves of her body as they stretched and
flexed with each squat, dip, lunge, and hip lift.  Many of the women
present would look on in venomous jealously at her effeminate grace as she
moved to and fro in perfect form, all of them taking mental notes whilst
trying to mimic her motions.  Sammy's friend Ivana Swallows would often
join her at the Olympian, and had ultimately decided following Sammy's lead
and mimicking her workout regimen and motions beat any sort of exercise
program that was offered in Coxville.
   So, it struck many of the regulars in attendance as quite a shock when
they saw the fit, curvy, picturesque redhead tumble leg over leg onto her
knees and off the platform of the treadmill at a near sprinting speed with
a loud thwack and squeak of shoe sole upon rotating rubber.  She slid and
flew back abruptly as the portion of the machine made for walking and
running hurled her backwards and off onto the cold hard floor.
   "Ouch!" She yelped after landing flat on her behind.  "Dang it!"
   Sammy could hardly believe it herself.  She'd fallen like a total klutz
near a dozen times this morning before and after cleaning the house, that
was commonplace for her, but never had she fallen off of the treadmill,
ever.  Her confusion was soon quashed however, considering her focus hadn't
entirely been on her breathing, pace, or running direction, but had in fact
been placed on...other areas in the gym.  Her lack of focus hadn't even
been realized until she felt the abrupt jerk of her right leg as stopped on
the hard unmoving surface of the black running track of the machine.
   Oh my goodness, Sammy thought to herself.  I can't believe I just fell
off the treadmill.  I never do that.
   Everyone in the gym abruptly stopped whatever they were doing to look at
the fallen redhead, her sitting there flat on her bottom, both legs up and
bent at the knee in front her, a wholly confused and shocked look painted
on her reddened face.
   I'm so embarrassed, she thought.  So much that for a brief moment she
considered getting up and racing out of the room and fleeing into one of
the nearby bathroom stalls.  Sammy didn't do that however.  She instead
looked down at her chest, at the phrase push it in bold etched upside down
in bold on the tight cotton fabric.  To most people it was simply a t-shirt
with two words that -to some inclined to such thoughts- would perhaps carry
a bit of innuendo.  To Sammy however, it much worlds more.  To her these
two simple words encompassed her entire outlook on persistence, and
enduring through the most seemingly insurmountable obstacles.  It drove her
to push far past the threshold where everyone else would collapse in defeat
and exhaustion.  Sammy Spitzmen was many things, but a quicker, she was
not. And running the entire diatribe through her head, the words and their
meaning burning fresh in her mind, she rose to her feet after taking two
more long deep breaths.
   "Oh my god, Sammy are you alright?" came a voice from behind her.
   Sammy turned to see Dale racing up behind her towel, water, and cell
phone in hand as if ready to call 911.
   "Oh yeah, I'm fine Dale."
   "Oh my god, oh my god, are you sure?  Here drink this.  Sit down-I
mean-well-stay seated, are you dizzy?  Should I call your husband, how bad
does it hurt on a scale from one to ten?"
   Dale shoved his blue water bottle towards her as he tried to guide her
to one of the nearby benches, though Sammy went motioned the opposite way.
   "Dang it Dale I said I'm fine, just a little stumble's all.  Jeez, I'm
not made of glass you know."
   Dale was taken aback at the biting tone in Sammy's voice.
   "But I", was all Dale managed to choke before Sammy cut in again, with a
breathing bit of laughter this time as the mood lightened.
   "You see this", Sammy said, pointing to her shirt.
   Dale looked down at Sammy's chest, his face instantly turning red upon
realizing he was staring at Sammy's round sweaty chest heaving lightly
inside her shirt.
   "Uh, yeah."
   "It means when you fall, ya get back up.  You don't lay down and sob
like a toddler when ya fall down."
   Dale realized that Sammy was talking about the slogan on her shirt. 
He'd always noticed it to be her favorite thing to wear during her
workouts, notably from the effect of how tightly it clung to her skin
before and (especially) after she had spent hours of physical exertion into
it.
   "I take tumbles every single day", she continued.  "I'm all left feet
and thumbs for just about everythin else except cookin, cleanin...and
this."
   Her voice took on an oddly defiant tone with the remark, teetering
between motivational and reprimanding towards Dale's attempt at playing
white knight.
   "And I'll be butched if I let one little fall mess up the rest of my
workout."
   Dale couldn't think up an intelligent response.  What could he say?  He
knew that Sammy's physical ability surpassed that of basically everyone
else he knew.  Unsure of how to continue, Dale simply nodded, straightened
himself up, and said,
   "You're right.  Just...just making sure you're alright is all.  Wouldn't
want you getting hurt on my watch."
   Sammy smiled at the sight of Dale puffing his chest, erecting himself
upward in an attempt at showy protective masculinity.
   "You're such a goof Dale", she said, nudging him lightly in the stomach
with her elbow.
   Immediately Dale's manly fascade dropped back into his boyish red
colored smile.
   "If you need anything, just holler." He said.
   "Sure thing", said Sammy as she turned away and back to the treadmill.
   Dale simply watched the view of her body as she strolled back upon the
mill, and resumed her workout.  As Sammy brought herself back up to a
steady run, her glance slowly shifted to the right side of the gym, where
it rested on the new trainer, Dwayne, lifting what looked like twice -no-
three times her weight in iron on the squat machine.  The angle of it made
the user face away from Sammy, so that when the person on the machine would
squat down for a repetition, their backside would slowly come into full
view.  As Dwayne went down in motion of the exercise, Sammy got another
full view of his butt, thick legs, taught back, and -most notably- the
gigantic bulge that hung just between his legs as he went down.  Sammy had
neglected to mention the true reason of what caused her fall to Dale, that
seeing the full mass of a penis easily the size of her arm sitting inside
Dwayne's pants had distracted her to the point she lost her footing on the
treadmill, and tumbled as a result.
   Good lord, the redhead thought to herself, keeping her composure this
time and not moving out of step with the machine's tracks.  That thing is
enormous.  Dwayne hadn't noticed her blunder, he was too transfixed on his
own workout.  Sammy was grateful for this, as she didn't wish to give the
new trainer an impression that she was clumsy inside as well as outside the
gym.  Upon seeing the trainer Sammy had been greatly impressed and -to a
lesser degree- intimidated by the large black man.
   The members of the Olympian weren't anywhere in spitting distance as
defined, chisled, and in shape as he was.  Hell, not even any of the other
trainers came even close.  It impressed her indeed, seeing someone that
took their health and exercise as seriously as she did, and showing almost
as seemingly boundless a devotion to their workouts as she did.  And now
added to the list of pros found in this new, hip, extremely fit trainer was
the fact that he possessed -as far as her angle of the gym could present-
the hugest member she had ever seen in her life.  Though she had done her
absolute best to press the memory of the last book club meeting down, it
still often bubbled up to the fore of her mind with how incredibly hung
(and fit) the black men she had been seeing lately were.
   Recently, Sammy, along with her dear friends Anya White, Bianca
Blackwood, Ivana Swallows, and Jenny Summers, had gathered for their weekly
Coxville book club gathering.  It was supposed to be a movie night, however
what was featured was a far cry away from what she'd expected.  Sammy had
discovered, to her initial shock, that Jenny -one of her best friends, an
elder sister figure really- had somehow been caught on video engaging in
the most intense of sexual activities with a another man.  And not just any
other man, a black man to boot.  The footage had somehow accidentally been
played before the group, and it had left them all speechless, wide eyed,
and thoroughly amazed.  They spent the entire night talking to Jenny about
her experiences, and what it was like for her getting (what Jenny adamantly
described as) "Big Black Cock".  The tales of Jenny's adventures entranced
the beautiful redhead, had entrance them all really, and aroused her in
ways she'd never thought feasible via the simple oral recanting of Jenny's
stories.  Sammy realized only later how deeply that night had imprinted
itself on her.  Despite her strict deep southern upbringing, and her
guarded childhood, Sammy had always (to some degree or another) been
curious about men of the darker complexion.  Prior to that night Sammy had
only be subconsciously aware of how black men around town would often look
at her, appraise and smile at her as she'd walk down the halls of her high
school.  The gesture hadn't meant anything outside of the norm for her
until that night, when, in a moment of what she now could only articulate
as a moment of pure madness, had taken to a young black man by the name of
Samson West.  She had taken to him in ways she'd never outwardly thought
possible, and to the degree that she herself decided to join in on Jenny's
"training session" on how to properly engage black men.
   In short, Sammy had marveled at the young negro's naked, flawless,
muscle riddled frame, and had taken a particular fancy to (at least to the
best of her ability) the young man's penis that was cradled deep into her
mouth.  Its length, girth, and degree of hardness had finally gotten the
message and meaning behind the appraising glances and somewhat sinister
grins.  The experience was something that Sammy could not describe with
tangible words or speech.  It was every wonderful meal she'd ever had all
at once.  It was the hot shower she'd take right after her rigorous workout
and the following relaxing lounge in the steam room that would follow.  It
was that occasional chocolate bar that she would give herself after
reaching a new physical goal of lifting more weight or gaining an extra cut
or curve on her already astounding frame.  It was all of those things
wrapped into one dark, velvety, twelve inch package, and Sammy had loved
every moment it, a part of her secretly confessed.  Now she found herself
here, stupefied and equally (if not more so) astounded by this new, hip,
incredibly good looking, remarkably in shape black trainer California.  The
last thing she wanted was for him to think of her as some clumsy redheaded
bimbo who didn't know how to put one foot in front of the other.  The
reason?  She asked herself.  She didn't want Dwayne to reject her, deny her
of
   Sammy almost missed another step on the treadmill, but caught herself
before she slipped again.  Luckily no one had noticed the near blunder, and
everyone continued with their moderately engaging workout.  Get a grip
girl, Sammy thought to herself.  Sammy then straightened herself up, forced
her face forward, away from Dwayne and his immense member, and continued
with her workout.
   ...
   Two hours later Sammy had finished her workout.  To her great relief the
remainder of it went without a repeated incident of her earlier tumble.  As
she walked into the women's locker room and undressed from her tight sweaty
garments of spandex and soaked cotton to take a much needed shower, she
briefly mulled over the checklist of lingering errands she had left to run
in her day.  There weren't many, as Sammy often made it a point to take
care of such chores early in the day, so as not to have to worry about them
later, and to have the freedom to get more routines into her already
rigorous regimen.  Ivana would often join her for evening session, which
was just as intense as her morning one, but was given a somewhat less
serious tone what with Sammy giving the competitive brunette tips on form
and proper pacing of energy exertion.  Sammy lathered her warm, now amber
colored body with deep gobs of liquid soap, and gently rubbed herself from
head to toe.  This was one of the moments she relished most about her
workouts.
   The soothing hot water beading on her body.  Her cleansing and
relaxation process always placed her in an almost Zen-like state of mind.
Also, Sammy had noticed, her efforts often made her feel satisfied in other
physical ways as well.  In keeping with her elder's teachings of prudent
taciturnity, Sammy would remain tight lipped about voicing this little
truth aloud, but more often than not she perceived the physical
satisfaction found in her exercises to be akin to -if not greater than- the
act of having sex.  At the very least it was an effective deterrent to her
current problem at home.  The problem being that Sammy had not had an
orgasm in almost six weeks.  It was a fact that remained unknown to
virtually everyone who knew Sammy as the prim, optimistic, and socially
gilded redhead, and a secret that remained sealed in even the most free and
loose lipped of conversations.  The "proper bred" Coxville beauty however,
despite all appearances, secretly loved the deed.
   After their wedding day, she would often attempt to engage her husband
in a proposed bout of bedroom ruckus.  Steve was an adequate lover, her
first and only, and all that she thought she'd ever need.  He was
attentive, fairly passionate, gave excellent oral, and was in possession of
a none-too-unimpressive member.  Though she would have had to confess that
it was the only member she'd ever had to compare it to any other, that
is...until recently.  Steve's work schedule over the last few months
however had made things grow rather stagnant in their bedroom.  Stagnant
being a generous choice of words, more like non-existent, thought the
redhead.  Steve had been exhausted over the previous weeks.  So exhausted
from working such late hours that he hadn't been up for the task.
   And even when he was, Sammy thought, I always end up wearing him out
before I even get started.  Sammy's energetic nature indeed applied to all
things.  Her natural hyperactivity, along with the physical fruits of her
strength and endurance training at the gym had made her into a seemingly
insatiable woman in bed.  Many a night Steve Spitzmen would gasp, grunt and
groan fiercely as Sammy rode atop him.  Her hips and ass working in concert
with one another, bounding up and down with unnatural speed and force,
making him climax -in the longest of bouts- within forty-five seconds.  His
pace and sexual appetites simply couldn't keep up with scarlet haired minx,
and in one finalizing burst of breath, Steve would spasm and jerk, his body
tensing in a ten second release of motion punctuated with a snarling,
   "Oh my gawd, I'm comin!"
   Sammy would only be nearing the crest of her own orgasm by the time she
would look down to see Steve lulled into a nigh comatose sleep, his bearish
features relaxed and sunken deep in the land of Nod.  Silently frustrated,
Sammy would then roll off of her husband and proceed to quietly pleasure
herself until she reached her own finish, a satisfying but far less active
orgasm than she would have hoped.
   For weeks now this had been the pattern, and Sammy's only recourse was
to work her frustrations out on the gym equipment that she now used on a
daily basis.  Wiping and rubbing herself down now in the shower had
reaffirmed the looming truth that while her workouts had done wonders for
her health and mental standing, she longed to be touched.  Her urges to be
sexually satisfied -no- leveled if not thoroughly dominated had been only
been lessened from a broil to an increasing simmer with her diversionary
tactic.  Thoroughly leveled like how Jenny was in that video, she thought.
Dominated like how she knew in her gut Samson West could based on how
overwhelmed she was while sucking him off and how strong he stood before
her.  Sammy hadn't even noticed she'd slipped her right middle finger into
herself until she heard her own gentle moans under the steady current of
the hot steaming water.
   The simple memory of having Samson, big and heavy and rippling was
muscle in her mouth had her incredibly moist.  She found it simply
irresistible when a man took care of his body.  The shape and feel of toned
skin had always been a hot button for her.  She used her middle finger to
probe gently into herself, the soap lather rubbing against her wet and
sensitive clit, sending light tingles up her spine, while her other finger
rubbed at the soft flesh and nipple of her breast before brushing to her
firm abs.  Bet that boy Samson knows how to give a girl a workout, she
thought.  She had seen it for herself that night in the living room while
Jenny rode him in the white reclining chair, had observed his power and
force as he pumped his dark foot of meat like a piston up into Jenny's deep
pink pussy.  Samson knew how a woman liked it on top.  She'd held the image
in her mind for a long moment, letting it coast her warming parts towards a
sweet release of ecstasy.  Jenny's deep but effeminate grunts matched with
Samson manly groans composed the soundtrack nearing her orgasm.  Until, to
Sammy's great dismay, the memory was abruptly brushed aside with the
entrance of several other voices.  A band of older women entered the
showering area.  Five of them, gaggling and gossiping over this and that.
   Sammy jumped slightly, almost slipping on the wet tile and removed her
finger from sweetening gash with a swift jerk that left her feeling empty
and a fair bit beyond annoyed with the old ladies' intrusion.  Gathering
her senses back, Sammy then quickly finished her shower, and raced out of
the room after washing the soap from her skin and hair.
   ...
   In the locker room, Sammy dried herself off with a large towel, her mind
and body now in an even state (though still coming down from her near
climax in the shower).  I've got to get a grip, she thought.  After she
finished drying off she wrapped herself in the mid sized towel she'd
brought from home around her body.  She was totally naked underneath, but
the towel was wrapped firmly enough around her torso and bound tightly
enough around her vast chest that she didn't worry too much about it coming
undone.  The towel (perhaps) gave a view of her legs and thighs than would
have been deemed a bit more than generous to some, but Sammy didn't pay it
too much mind.  She wasn't planning on being very social for the next while
anyway.  She set her bag back inside the locker, and walked out of the room
and into the long hallway.  She stepped out into the empty corridor and
walked at a ginger pace towards a large brown door that read Steam Room in
large white letters just below a solid glass widow affixed to it.  Sammy's
routine always ended with a fifteen minute stint in the steam room.  The
steam room was located in a far off wing of the gym, at the very end of the
hallway passed the men and women's shower rooms.  Most of the gym's patrons
didn't use the area, as they saw it as an unnecessary vanity tool.  Havin a
room built just fer sweatin in the south makes about as much sense as tryin
to sell a cow a carton of milk was what many of the older gym goers would
sniff.
   It had been added only a few months prior, at the behest of the gym's
owner, who wanted to add "a more modern touch to the gym's already advanced
facilities and equipment".  The gym's members however didn't see a purpose
behind the room.  Pretty much all except for Sammy that is.  She was all
about being modern and advanced, and found the idea of a place to just
relax and let the gentle steam open her pores to be brilliant.  Therefore,
because it was an area not often treaded by patrons of the Olympian Gym,
Sammy would often have the room all to herself, especially at this time of
day in the early afternoon.
   She'd capitalize on the vacant space.  She'd lay back, lounge, and
release any lingering tension in her hard worked muscles.  The steam room
itself was spacious, but quaint in size and layout.  The interior went in
an ovular shape, large enough that it could likely hold about nine people
or so with comfort.  The center of the room was bare of all objects except
for a single slim white cauldron that emitted room's heat, which was a
steady and not at all overwhelming one.  The walls were fit with smooth
crème colored tile, and the sitting areas settled in a wide arc going along
the walls of the room in a deeper brown color.  Sammy closed the door and
was immediately engulfed in the haze of the steam.  There air held a green
and slightly sweet scent, the product of some sort of herbs that Dale had
placed inside the steaming unit, specially tailored for Sammy of course.
   She found it to be a sweat gesture from the boy.  He'd even gone as far
as to set the room to the perfect temperature for her beforehand.  So your
skin doesn't get all wrinkled and pruny, he'd told her with an accomplished
smile.  The room wasn't hot, but rather maintained a gentle warmth that
Sammy found pleasant and knew would take her quite some time to be even
remotely irritated by.  The room was filled with a grayish haze from the
steam, making it difficult to see ahead of her.  It was foggy and blotted
her vision.  Not completely to the point of blind, but all the same
incredibly hard to see.  Sammy closed the room door behind her as she
walked in, and after a moment of consideration twisted the lock on the
door.
   Sammy didn't normally lock the door to the steam room, a belief in
thinking it to be inconsiderate of others in the event they wished to get a
bit of steam soaking in for themselves.  But today had been a tough -near
traumatic- workout for the redhead.  It was unlikely to occur, but the last
thing she wanted to hear today was a gaggle of older people barging in and
obsessing over the little spill she'd taken earlier.  Fawning over her to
the point she screamed.
   She didn't want to remember the fall, and therefore wanted to avoid the
embarrassing matter from being spoken of for as long as she could.  Sammy
concluded that it wouldn't kill the few (all but imaginary) people if they
were locked out of the room for a few minutes while she unwound quietly by
herself.
   Not like anyone but me uses the dang room anyway, she thought.  She
truly doubted that today would finally be the day that the other gym
patrons would decide to use the steam facility.  She settled herself on the
far side of the room, after passing the cauldron and dropping a single
splash of water onto the hot rocks for a bit more heat.  There was an
abrupt sizzle from the heated rocks upon coming into contact with the
water, and the room almost immediately went up another meager degree or so.
High enough that it would allow Sammy's pores to open.  Her body was
already in a relaxed state, her skin a pink shade beaming of health.  She
closed her eyes, letting the sensation overtake her.  Sammy was so far in
the land of relaxation that she almost didn't hear the deep silky voice
that rose from the gray mist.
   "Just when a brotha gets a nice vibe going with the heat too..."
   Sammy's eyes abruptly shot open and darted left in the direction she
thought she heard the voice come from.  All she saw however were thick
clouds of steam wafting in front of her eyes.  She waved at the plume,
waving the steam away so that she could get a glimpse of who was (to her
surprise) in the room with her.  She hadn't heard or seen anyone when she
first came in, but she hadn't exactly been paying attention to her
surroundings either.  When the waves of steam finally parted, her eyes
settled on the strongly featured face of a man.
   "I had the temperature just right too", he then said.  "Not too hot or
nothin."
   Sammy was silent for a moment.  The name behind the face settled into
Sammy's brain before she abruptly said,
   "Oh gosh!  Dwayne, you startled me."
   "Oh", said Dwayne as the left part of his mouth curled into a smirk. 
"You know my name after all."
   Sammy would have usually jumped into apologies for disturbing someone
else's steam room session, but she was too preoccupied with slowing down
her racing heartbeat that for a moment she couldn't form a coherent
response.  Thoroughly caught off guard by the fact there was actually
someone else besides her in the room, Sammy just stood there.  A red headed
cat caught with the canary in her mouth, O expression on her face and all.
   "What?" Dwayne said curiously.
   "Huh?" Blurted Sammy, looking at the deep brown orbs that were Dwayne's
eyes.  She found them to be very pretty upon closer inspection, despite the
steam obscuring her vision.  They were rich and dark and reminded her of
her the color of her grandmother's homemade brownies in their depth and
warmth.
   "You look like I just asked you for your wallet or something girl."
   "Oh...no no, you just surprised me is all."
   "I see..."
   "I mean, I'm usually the only person in here at this time of day,
so...". Sammy trailed off, losing whatever thought she had to appraise
Dwayne.
   The steam hadn't lifted entirely, but it had dissipated just enough for
her to be able to make out more Dwayne's position.  At closer inspection
from a clearer lens she saw that Dwayne was sitting comfortably, his arms
outstretched over the top of the seating area, and his legs outstretched in
front of him.  He wore just a towel that was perhaps a bit too small for
him.  It held tightly around his waist, the tied points ending at the upper
portion of his right thigh, which was left bare and exposed the mass and
deep muscle lines of his solid dark legs.
   "That's what I thought about the place too... til now."
   "I'm real sorry about that", she said, about to turn around and walk out
the door when Dwayne responded with,
   "Hey hey, don't trip, stick around.  Saunas gotta get used by somebody
right?"
   Sauna, the word lingered in Sammy's mind.  She'd never heard anyone
refer to the room as anything but the steam room.  She of course knew what
the word sauna meant, but to Sammy it was a refreshing to hear someone else
use it.
   "You sure it's alright?  I mean if I don't mean to be a bother or noth-"
   "Bother?"
   The black man laughed bit.
   "Girl it'd be my pleasure.  Come on, have a seat and chill for a
minute."
   The phrase chill didn't make much sense to her however.
   "But we're in a steam room, how are we gonna-"
   Her question was interrupted again by Dwayne's hardy laughter.
   "Dang, this is the south huh?"
   Sammy's face flushed red.  She couldn't help it.  She was embarrassed
that she didn't get his California lingo.  And even if it wasn't
Californian lingo, it was slang she'd never heard before in her part of
town.
   "Relax", said Dwayne.  "Come on, take a load off and have a seat."
   Dwayne emphasized his urging her sit down by placing a hand on the area
of the seat next to him.  After another second of thought, Sammy decided to
take him up on the offer.  She did however choose to sit a few feet away
from the large negro, choosing a comfortable middle point in the sauna. 
Her elder's counsel subconsciously guiding her moves to steer clear of
black people.  Yeah its the south alright, though Dwayne.  Dwayne didn't
outwardly respond to the gesture as offensive however.  He simply continued
to smile that warm smile of his at her.  Even through the awkward silence
that was carried on by nothing but the sound of the steam as it sifted
through the air, he kept smiling at her.  This white bitch is fine as a
muphucka, He thought.  Total change of pace from the rest of these soft
pasty redneck ass yokels that come in here.
   "So, you've got my name from Dale apparently, what's yours?"
   Sammy was a little thrown off by the question.  It wasn't often that
people introduced themselves in Coxville, as its small town inhabitants
seldom needed to.  Everyone knew one another.
   "Samantha, Samantha Spitzmen.  But my folks and friends call me Sammy",
she said.
   "Pleasure to meet you Sammy.  Looks like you were really on one today in
the gym out there."
   Sammy found Dwayne's silky Californian accent to be a kind of audible
candy for her ears.  He still used many of the broken syllabic inflections
on his words as though he were from the south, but his voice clearly hinted
that he wasn't from around here.  She was unfamiliar with the dialect, but
very much enjoyed listening to it, the smooth and sultry tambour that she
couldn't help but find herself wanting to hear more of.
   "On what?" said Sammy, tilting her head curiously to one side like a
bird making sense of an image.
   Dwayne laughed again.
   "I mean you were really goin hard out there in the gym today.  I don't
think any of the trainers here could have kept up with you even if they
wanted to."
   "Oh, right.  Thanks" replied Sammy.
   "You trainin for somethin?"
   "Me?  Oh no, I just like being active is all."
   "I see.  How often do you come here?  I mean I've been here for a little
over a month now and I haven't noticed you around."
   "Oh, twice a day about five days a week."
   "Damn!  The fuck outta here, twice a day?"
   "Yep."
   "Man, that's hardcore if I've eva seen it.  You're a beast."
   "A beast!?" Sammy blurted, taken aback by the remark.  "Now that's just
rude!  My grandmamma says if you don't have anything nice to say about
someone, then you should keep your trap shut."
   Sammy pouted and crossed her arms, not understanding Dwayne's
compliment. He laughed again hardily, throwing his head back as he did.
   "Nah nah that's not what that means.  Being a `beast' where I come from
means you're really intense you know?  All-star status.  Pro at what you
do, you feel me?"
   "Ohhh", Sammy said, her head nodding slowly.  "Man, you California folks
have some weird phrases." Said Sammy.
   "Like just the other day I was fu-uh-trainin this chick at my other job
right?"
   "What's your other job?"
   "Oh, another gym gig.  I'm also a trainer at Black Iron" Dwayne said.
   "You mean that..." Sammy stopped.  She didn't want to say that all-black
gym on the other end of town.  "You mean that other gym on the other side
of town", was what she settled on, but couldn't hide the slight sign of
disapproval by the slight scrunching of her nose and eyebrows.
   "Yeah, they got all the fight and conditioning gear I need there, so I
go there to train, plus my cousin works there."
   "I see" Sammy said.
   She knew about the other side of town from friends and relatives.  All
them, most adamantly Bobbie Sue, had told her to never, under any
circumstances to go down there.  They call it N-Town for a reason Sammy,
was all she'd say.
   "But anyway" Dwayne continued.  "There was this one chick I was workin
on.  She was real serious about getting an intense workout, know what I'm
sayin?"
   Sammy did, or at least thought she did.  There was something in Dwayne's
tone that she didn't altogether make him sound like he was telling her the
whole story.  Maybe it was simply the odd upward inflections that hung at
the end of his every sentence.  It was a peculiar manner of speech, but one
she's didn't altogether dislike.  It just made it difficult at times for
the redhead to identify the intended meaning of his words.  She did know,
accent or none, that he was leaving something out of the plot about this
little anecdote.  Something gnawing just beneath the surface, and a
punchline she just wasn't privy to.  In the end she merely pressed the
suspicion down and listened on in silence.
   "She was serious about getting some deep work in on her glutes right? 
So I obliged.  Went on for well over two hours."
   "Sounds rough" Sammy said, unconsciously leaning herself closer towards
the negro.
   "Oh hell yeah, straight wore her OUT son."
   "I see" was all Sammy could say, noting how excited Dwayne suddenly
became recanting the tale.  "Sounds like you really put her through the
ringer that day."
   "Oh fo sho, girl rolled in a week later talkin about she STILL couldn't
walk."
   "Wow, really?"
   "Yep, that's how we roll at the Black Iron."
   "That sounds like a really intense workout alright."
   "My clients only get the best from me, know what I mean?  They want a
hard workout, I give it to them.  Hell, for that chick I even brought in a
couple of my boys who was there that day to help me out."
   "You're really serious about staying in shape aren't you?"
   "It's not just a job, it's a lifestyle babe." Was what he'd said. 
Wearing white pussy out is a way of life was what he thought.  "You may
only be as old as you feel, but in my opinion, you only feel as good as you
look."
   "Interesting", replied Sammy.
   "It only takes one look at you to know you KNOW what I'm talkin about."
Dwayne said with his now familiar smirk curling again on his mouth.
   "What do you mean?" Sammy replied coyly.
   "Oh come on, don't play modest.  Workin out twice a day?  The way you
carry yourself, all that energy, you KNOW what I mean.  You're all about
going deep and pushing hard."
   Sammy wouldn't admit it out aloud, but she was well aware about what he
meant.  Sammy could never deny how good she felt after every workout.  The
feeling of her muscles stretching and contracting with each rep.  The pace
of hear breath working in union with her racing heart as she ran.  It all
made her feel alive, at her body's height and maximum efficiency.  And
knowing that she was working hard was reaffirmed by how her body looked. 
That very morning she had looked in the mirror and smiled brightly at how
shapely, toned, and healthy looking her body was.  She knew what Dwayne
meant entirely, and suddenly felt a connection to the tall, muscular black
man.
   "Yeah, I think I know exactly what you mean." She said, her face slowly
beginning to beam.  "Gosh, FINALLY I meet someone who gets it!", she said
with a kind of relief sitting atop her tone.  "Everyone else I know just
goes until they get tired or aren't comfortable any more, and then they
just quit.  Just flat out fall to the ground and gasp for breath like
they're dying or something.  And meanwhile I haven't even broken a sweat
yet."
   "You know what it means to push deep", said Dwayne, repeating himself
and putting emphasis on the word deep.
   "Yeah...I guess I do", said Sammy, her cheeks blushing a bit at the
statement.  The word deep hit a particular chord in her that she didn't
acknowledge, and only vaguely understood.
   Dwayne really gets it, Sammy thought.  HE knows what the rush is like,
how great it is when you're in the middle of an intense workout.  Sammy
could easily conclude this just by a single glance from him as well.  By
now a lot of the steam had cleared from their end of the room.  At some
point during the conversation, Sammy had unknowingly scooted over a few
feet closer to the black man.  Inched her way bit by bit so that they were
now a mere three feet away from one another.  Sammy now had a far better
view of the man.  She could see every curve, lift, and line of immaculate
muscle lining his body, and was -to say the absolute least- very impressed.
They spoke more, and over the course of conversation Sammy learned a few
details about this Dwayne fellow.  Turns out he was actually a native of
Coxville.  He had been born in the heart of N-Town, and had moved to live
with some relatives in California when he was nine after some sort of
family complication.  During his stay in California, he'd gotten into a
variety of sports, before falling into martial arts.  He'd studied under a
variety of disciplines, many of the names Sammy couldn't pronounce, and her
memory of each art were limited to the few action films she'd seen with
Steven.  Dwayne eventually found his way into the mixed-martial arts
circles, and had actually been in several matches that gained him a fair
bit of acclaim.  All of which I won of course, he added.  His involvement
in the circuit had garnered a fair bit of money from endorsements, the
selling of gym equipment, training and the like, and eventually he decided
to move back to Coxville to establish a kind of fighting base near his home
roots.
   "Keeping a place near my roots is really important to me.  In California
you get a lot of plastic muphukas tryin to come at you like they your
family, you know?  I just wanted to get away from all that and make a place
for myself back in the place I was born, near ma roots ya feel me?"
   Sammy didn't, not really, but she did her best to understand.  Sammy
prided herself on being accepting of others, and she genuinely found
Dwayne's story to be one of a touching and very compelling one.  Minute by
minute she felt a connection with him forming.  She'd never lived in strife
or had to be relocated from her home, but in wanting to understand Dwayne's
upbringing she felt it was a solid first step towards something profound.
   Her eyes eventually found themselves crossing over the lower half of
Dwayne's body not long after.  She again noted how small the towel was on
his built frame.  The slouched angle of how he sat made it possible for her
to see the faint outline of a bulge that seemed to be sitting atop his
right thigh, concealed under the thick white cotton fabric.  It looked odd
to her, and for a long moment she had to stop and actually peer deeper at
the spot to make sense of it.
   It was a large, thick mass that made it look like Dwayne had a kind of
soft tube slouched over his leg underneath the towel.  Dwayne tilted his
head back, soaking up the steam of the room and making his lower legs shift
as a result.  The fleshy mass moved with him slightly, showing that it was
in fact a part of him rather than something that he was hiding.  Good lord,
thought the redhead.  Is that his"If you want, I can train you some time",
came Dwayne's smooth voice suddenly, breaking her out of her stupor.
   "Wha-what?!"
   "I mean, you're already in excellent shape, but if you ever want a few
professional pointers, I'd be more than glad to show you a thing or two" he
said.  And then some, he added mentally
   Sammy gulped, uncertain of how to respond to what was -by all
appearances- a simple nod of acknowledgment and a cordial invitation.  An
invitation to what though, questioned Sammy.  Gnawing at it in her mind,
she went to the lesser traversed regions, the darker part of Sammy Spitzmen
that she herself was only aware at the most basic and vague of levels.  The
part of her that had come to the fore that night at the meeting, and knew
just enough about black men and -as Jenny worded it- Big Black Cock to be
capable of presenting an answer.  An invitation to break my little pink
pussy with that big ol dick, thought Sammy's darker aspect from a corner of
her brain, a mischievous voice in the back of her mind that Sammy had never
known before.
   The mere thought made her gasp.  She shook her head slightly, as though
the gesture would cut loose any crude lingering thoughts that may still be
residing inside her.
   "I dunno...", Sammy then said hesitantly.  "Sounds like you're pretty
intense.  I dunno if I could handle it."
   Sammy knew that the conversation had taken a different pace and held a
deeper quality now.  That there was an underlying hint that they were both
prodding every time they'd idly flirt with one another.  Sammy knew she
should stop, for she hadn't forgotten that she was still a very much
married woman, who was very much in love with her husband.  But still, the
mischievous part of her persisted in poking at the underside of the dialog.
Dwayne laughed again and looked over to Sammy.  His eyes went up and down,
looking over her tight body wrapped inside the now moistening white towel.
   "Baby, you're in awesome shape.  Trust me, you can handle it."
   The silky smooth words dripped into Sammy's ears, and she felt her body
tingle in response.  It was a sensation that wasn't entirely unlike the
kind she felt in the shower earlier while she was masturbating.
   "So, you down?" asked Dwayne, his infamous smirk once again crossing his
handsome features.
   "I'm sorry", blurted Sammy.  "I...I can't".
   What's gotten into me, she thought.  I'm a married woman for pete's
sake. I can't be doing this.  Thinkin these thoughts.  What I did with that
West boy in front of the girls was bad enough, but now I'm seriously
thinking about-, she couldn't finish, couldn't bring herself to complete
the thought.  Sammy abruptly jumped to her feet, and began making her way
towards the sauna door.
   "Sorry..." she said, walking swiftly passed him.
   She knew she had to get out of there.  Away from Dwayne as fast as she
could, despite the fact the other part of her was screaming, pleading,
begging for her to stay.  Her body lunged forward in a start, and was only
somewhat aware of Dwayne standing up with her at the same time in pursuit.
   "Hey, wait, where are you go-"Dwayne's voice was cut by the abrupt sound
of Sammy's sudden gasp as she felt her feet fly out from under her.
   Of course, the universe in all its wonder would ineffably conclude that
now would be the perfect time for Sammy's clumsiness to kick back in.  For
her left leg to trip over her right, causing her to plummet forward towards
the hard floors of the sauna.  Sammy shrieked and flailed her arms about
the air wildly as she fell.  Hoping to grab on to something, anything that
would keep her from falling face first onto the hard marble floor, or
-worse- into the cauldron that was now dangerously close to her.  Her heart
skipped a beat, and time went into its odd habit of slowing down in the
precise moment of crisis.  Sammy was relieved however when her flailing
right hand caught onto something solid.  It wasn't the seat, nor was it
anything particularly sturdy.  It was soft, but backed by something hard
and stable enough that she was able to grab on and break her own fall by
pulling with all she could on it and bracing herself with her other arm. 
The seam of something.
   Whatever it was, the seam soon gave way and fell along with her the rest
of the way to warm floor of the room.
   "Oh shit!" Sammy heard Dwayne curse.
   She hit the floor with an audible smack, but was grateful that her head
hadn't hit the floor, and her training and upper body strength kept her
from falling flat, and ending in her being in more of a push-up position.
Her right ankle however did smack rather hard on the tile, and a dull pain
shot up her leg and into her lower back.  All in all however, she was left
no more worse for the wear than that.
   "You alright?" She heard Dwayne say, genuine concern carried in his
silky voice.
   She lifted herself up onto her knees, her gaze focused on the lower half
of her body.
   "Ouch, dang it", she said.
   She didn't see any other signs that she had been injured.
   "That's wipeout number two" said Dwayne.
   "What?!" shot Sammy in surprise.
   Her worst fears had been confirmed.  Dwayne had seen her earlier plunge
from the treadmill after all.  He had simply chosen not to say anything
about it until now.
   "Oh my gosh you saw tha-"Sammy looked up, and her mouth abruptly
dropped, her words freezing on the air despite the steam.
   ...
   Sammy Spitzmen was a nice girl.  A kind, sweet natured southern belle
that had been raised to carry herself with nothing short of an elegant
poise and -to the best of her ability- grace.  Even when she attempted to
rebel by forcing herself to mesh and mince words to make her sound more of
"hick", she was still seen as a precious and prim little thing.  This
aspect of Sammy however died the moment her eyes settled on the sight of
Dwayne, and the long, solid black cock that dangled heavily between his
legs and a barely a foot away from her face.  It was a fat veiny member of
an easy ten inches, with an uncircumcised knob-like head that was almost
about as thick and rounded as an actual doorknob.
   "Mind if I get that back?" Dwayne then asked.  She could see the smirk
growing on his face without even looking at him.
   Sammy was awe struck at the sight of Dwayne's immense cock, and had to
rip her eyes away to look down at her right hand, and to what she had
grabbed to brace her fall.  In her hand was Dwayne's ill fitted white
towel, clutched between her fingers and lying limply on the tiles.
   "Oh my GOD!" Sammy then squeaked.
   Dwayne laughed again.
   "I...I'm so", Sammy wanted to apologize, she truly did.  However the
words immediately died on her lips upon gazing up at the towering black
man.
   "No need to be sorry baby", cooed Dwayne.  "It's only natural for a fit
girl like yourself to want to check the equipment she's gonna use for a
workout."
   Sammy's breath sat still in her throat.  She looked up at Dwayne's face,
and the solid mass of muscle that lined his body along the way.  Goodness
gracious, she thought.  He soooo built.  Naked, Dwayne was an even more
impressive specimen than she'd noted him to be earlier.  His body was a
pillar of nothing but rock hard muscle and fine ridges over smooth dark
brown skin.
   "So, what do you think baby, you like?" Dwayne said with an notable
degree of confidence.
   "Its, I mean...you're...you're enormous."
   Dwayne chuckled.
   "Been told that once or twice.  While you're down there, you wanna give
it a taste?"
   Sammy knew she shouldn't, she knew she couldn't.  It wasn't right.  She
was a married woman for the gentle lord's sake.  Her blowing Samson West
was already something that she'd wanted to feel incredibly guilty about,
and had to press deep down into the darkest recesses of her mind to ward
off the guilt.  If anyone knew what she'd done, her friends and -lord
forbid- her family, she'd be finished, ruined.  She'd lose everything that
her life contained and held promise of.  And what's that exactly, came the
darker aspect of Sammy once again.  Lose out on making more meals for that
unappreciative slob Steve?  More preening and apologizing to everyone every
time you stumble over yourself.  More cleaning, more dishes and dusting,
and keeping in shape for a husband that's always too tired to fuck?  Sammy
shook her head again in hopes the voice would go away like it had before.
However it didn't, it merely continued its tirade.  Look at this big cock
you've got right in front of you Sammy.  Look at the body it's attached to.
Think about how you felt that night when you had Samson's big block cock
lodged in your mouth.  Wasn't it big?  Bigger than anything you've ever
had? Look at it.  It's massive huh?  Think it gets as hard and spreads your
jaw as wide as Samson's did if you sucked it?  You think it would last
longer than forty seconds if you fucked it?  I think it would.  You should
try it.
   "Well..." came Dwayne.
   "But I'm married..." said Sammy, just as much to the voice in her head
as much as to Dwayne.
   So's Jenny, thought Sammy, and she seems just fine with it.  Come on
Sammy, you know you want it.  Its right there, go get it.  Get that big fat
nigger dick.  No one'll know, and you remember how amazing Jenny said it
was, you saw it for yourself.  Jenny will love hearing about this.  All the
girls will.
   The voice in Sammy's head continued, her words impelling her body to
slowly raise her left hand up towards Dwayne's cock.  Her fingers
eventually came close enough and brushed across the flesh of it, and upon
feeling its warmth, clasped as much as she could into her grasp.
   "Jesus Christ", said Sammy as she gripped it tighter.  She felt the
veins pulse below the skin, and watched as a single clear drop of pre-cum
formed a dew-like shape at the tip of Dwayne's dark urethra.
   "Don't be afraid baby." Dwayne reassured.  "Just move nice and slow. 
Start with the tip for a warm up."
   That's it bitch, get at that black dick Thought Dwayne.  First that
blonde bitch at Black Iron, now this fine ass redhead bitch at this
white-bread ass gym.  Without another word, Sammy leaned her head closer to
the Dwayne's engorged one.  That's it, taste it, Sammy thought.  Her lips
slowly parted, and soon she had to gap her mouth as wide as she could just
to make way for the approaching flesh.
   "Ok, I guess I can at least try..." She whispered.
   As her mouth enclosed on the hot head, she felt her body heat rise and
her womb flex in small waves of anticipatory pleasure.  Sammy slid the
first inch of so of Dwayne's enormous dick into her mouth easily enough,
and slowly inched upwards in a long swallow that ended at almost the half
way mark.  That's not even half, she thought to herself.  Dwayne was a fair
bit bigger than Samson was, and Sammy soon found herself feeling more than
a tad overwhelmed by the girth of Dwayne's black cock.  Before she
continued, Sammy recalled part of the advice Jenny had given her during the
meeting.  How spit was her friend in moments like this.  She gathered a
hefty amount between the roof of her mouth and tongue, all the while
stroking Dwayne in gentle passes.  She slathered the spit on her tongue and
then dragged it slowly along the top Dwayne's dickhead.  Spit dribbled was
spread from the top and fell in a thin line from the tip, and Sammy did her
best lap it up and place it back on her chocolate rod.
   It looks even better when its wet with my spit, she thought before
taking it back into her mouth.  She opened her jaws as far as she could to
get more of it in.  Her lips parted high enough that Dwayne could feel her
mouth and throat struggle to get more him.  The warmth of her mouth was a
wet heaven.  The slick pocket of her mouth dripping drool onto his cock
felt better the deeper she'd tried to go on him.  For her efforts there
were abrupt gack and gurk noises that came as she pushed for each inch.
   "Oooh" Dwayne sighed.  "That's it baby.  Work that big black dick into
your throat.  Work for every inch."
   She pressed her lips together to slap more spit onto the flesh.  She was
nearing the halfway point on Dwayne's cock, and tears were already
beginning to form on the edges of the red head's eyes and she became short
of breath.  Oh my god, and I thought Samson's cock was huge.  Before she
found herself needing to gasp for air, she pulled back from Dwayne's now
fully erect dick.  Wet strings of spit followed her pursed lips as she
jutted back.
   "Oh God!" she blurted.  "This thing should be classified as a deadly
weapon".
   "That an awesome start for a warm up though baby" complimented Dwayne.
"That throat you got just needs to relax and stretch a bit more.
   Sammy appraised her work.  She'd succeeded in getting Dwayne hard, and
seeing his cock hard and wet made her moistened gash quiver with
excitement. The longer she stared at it, the more her curiosity churned to
see if she could really take on something that big.  She noticed that the
wet traces formed a path where her mouth had stopped just shy of the
halfway mark, the untouched regions being dry.
   Seeing the dry parts angered her somewhat.  She wanted Dwayne's big
black cock to be smothered in her spit.  Smothered down to the balls, she
thought.  Jenny said it was the best way.  She could have simply spat in
her hand and gotten it wet by jacking him off, but Sammy felt that method
would in effect be cheating, and would much rather prefer the challenge of
getting him fully down her tight little throat, or at least give it a hard
effort.  The playful deviant inside Sammy found herself wanting to
experiment with how long exactly Dwayne was.  She took her other hand, and
brought it up to Dwayne's chiseled lower abs.  She took a moment to
appreciate the firm lines of his body before sliding the free hand down
further to beginning part of Dwayne's cock.  She did her best to enclose
her hand around the meat, her fingers not being able to connect in a full
ring it was so thick.  Near the equivalent in girth to a Pringles can she'd
have guessed.
   "I wonder how many hands this thing would make", she said playfully. 
Her eyes took on a darker sheen as they shot up to look at the black man's
still smirking face.  She reciprocated the confident smirk with her own,
and it somehow made her features darken.
   "Let's find out then Count", chuckled Dwayne.
   ...
   Sitting at his desk in the front lobby of the gym, Dale Walton stewed.
He was angry at Dwayne for hounding in on his time with Sammy, for
embarrassing him the way he did, and for overall being what Dale thought
was a complete jerk and a showoff.  Above all else however, Dale was angry
with himself.  He was angry at how he'd smothered Sammy the way he did when
she fell off the treadmill earlier.  Indeed it had looked like quite a
spill from his perception, and indeed it had been the considerate thing to
do in running to her rescue.  But the fact he'd played up the `knight in
shining armor" role so hard had made Sammy feel like she was some weak
little thing that couldn't hold a glass of water without help.  He'd been
too considerate, as contradictory as that may have sounded in the boy's
mind.  I know she's tough and all, he thought.  But I really overdid it.
   Overstepped his bounds with the towels and the water and the panicking.
He knew he'd gone overboard with his reaction, and he knew he'd have never
reacted in such a way if it had been anyone else in the gym.  Hell, there
were a few people in the gym who he'd likely pay good money to see take a
good dive on one of the gym machines.  Again Dwayne came to mind.  Dale
sighed in his chair and slumped.
   "I really messed up" he groaned.
   He wanted to find Sammy, to apologize (again) for acting like such a
chauvinist.  Wanted to tell her he thought the world of her, and that he
was well aware that she was a cut above Wonder Woman, but that it just left
him all broken up the thought of seeing her hurt.  He knew how clumsy she
was and just wanted to look out for her.  After another minute or so of
contemplation, Dale abruptly then shot up from his seat.
   "That's it!" He then said aloud.  "I'm gonna go find her and tell her
how I feel."
   Dale's mind was made up.  He'd find Sammy and do what he knew he should
have done ages ago.  He'd apologize for being unnecessarily mocho, and
spill his proverbial guts to her that he acted only out of an impulse of
undying love to the gorgeous redhead.  It didn't matter if she rejected him
or kissed him passionately in response.  Anything would be preferable to
letting his feelings fester silently, slowly driving him mad by inches. 
And with that, Dale bounded from his chair and headed off towards the main
corridor of the Olympian Gym.
   ...
   Sammy then proceeded to count how many hands it took to get from one end
of Dwayne's cock to another.  She counted a steady "1...2...3" each count
marked by the cupping of one hand where the other one ended.  "4...5...6".
The redhead had gotten to six before finally running out of room, with just
enough space left for his bulbous head to poke out towards her.
   "Dang..." She cooed.  "Six hands and then some."
   She spat another slab of spit onto Dwayne's pulsating black cock head
before shoving it back into her mouth.  She was determined to get that
thing all the way down her throat.  She slurped and sucked on it with a
growing intensity.  Dwayne stood firm with his hands on his sides, letting
the feeling of Sammy's tongue massage on his dick overtake him.  The trick
Jenny had taught her worked wonders for her speed, as the lithe redhead's
bobbing motions increased into a rapid pace.  The faster she got, the more
Dwayne would moan.
   "Aghh shit baby!"
   His groans and curses urged her on.  She liked hearing him moan, his
silky voice echoing through the room made her even more wet.  Her
increasingly hard sucking urged Dwayne on to push himself deeper into her
throat.  The steam in the room was still about them in faint patches, but
any significant heat in the room came from the pair of them.  Looking down
Dwayne could still clearly see the hungry look contained in the redhead's
brilliant green eyes.  The feeling of her sucking on his massive cock was
amplified greatly by how sexy the sight of it was.  Her looking up at him
while trying to down his dark rod.  She cooed with each wet pass, and the
gurk sound from her throat grew louder with each new inch.
   "Shit Sammy.  That's what up.  You're doing sooo good.  You're a beast."
   There's that word again, thought the redhead.  Now knowing what the term
meant however, she was rather charmed by it.  Turn on it by the idea of
being a pro at sucking that monster cock.  She raised her left hand up to
underneath Dwayne's cock, and firmly gripped his two enormous testicles. 
She slid the black cock out of her mouth to the head, and ever so gently
placed her teeth against the meat of it.  She growled, making a mock
gesture of a dog or wolf with a piece of raw meat trapped in its jaws. 
Dwayne laughed at Sammy's sense of humor.  Sammy was really having fun with
this.  More fun having sex than she'd ever had before.  In a long wet
motion she lapped Dwayne's large balls with her tongue after hoisting his
massive cock up with both hands.
   "Ah" said Dwayne.  "Workin those arms too huh?"
   "This thing is heavy enough for me to." Replied Sammy in a mischievous
giggle.
   She jacked off the huge throbbing member with both hands, the
accumulated spit lathering it making it easy for the redhead to motion back
and forth on it.  Her shoulder and arm muscles pumped slightly the forward
and backwards gestures.  Dwayne was walking on clouds from the effort.  The
redhead had magic hands.
   "Alright Sammy, now this time let's see you deep throat me."
   Sammy's heartbeat fluttered.  She had wanted to fit the entire thing in
her mouth, but hearing it from Dwayne made the task sound more daunting
than she'd realized.
   "Alright...it's just so big" she said, not wanting to sound like she was
whining, but an apparent worry was carried in her tone.
   "That's alright.  I'll work you through it.  You just gotta push."
   With that Sammy nodded, and opened her mouth wide, her tongue sticking
out in wait for Dwayne to shove his giant cock down her gullet.  Without
another word, Dwayne pushed himself inside Sammy's pretty little mouth.  He
aided her by placing a large powerful hand behind her head, gripping her
fiery hair.  The deeper Dwayne went, the more Sammy's eyes and mouth
watered.  When Dwayne hit the back of her, Sammy could see that she'd
finally reached the halfway point.  I've still got half to get down, she
thought.  She stuck out her pink tongue to make way for it.  She fought the
urge to gag on Dwayne's massive cock as he pushed deeper.  Her stomach
lurched and her ab muscles tightened.  Gotta push, she thought.  Another
long few seconds, and Sammy suddenly felt Dwayne's cock slide down the rest
of her throat, pushing passed her tonsils, uvula, and then far deeper. 
She'd closed her eyes in attempting to shove it further inside, kept her
hands clasped together tightly to fight the urge to pull away, despite the
fact Dwayne's iron grip on the back of her head had already made that
impossible.  She felt it fall into her throat, a sensation of being filled
to the brim, and felt her nose push against the lowest part of Dwayne's
abs.
   "Ugh!  FUCK yeah baby!" Dwayne grunted in triumph.
   She'd done it, and with the knowledge of completion she'd found a second
wind and burst of energy that was even able to force herself to motion her
head left and right slightly, feeling the huge black cock cramped the sides
of her mouth and throat, press down on the full length of her tongue.  The
tip of her tongue could just feel the outer curves of Dwayne's balls he'd
gotten far down into her.  If Dwayne had thought Sammy's hands were magic,
he didn't have the foggiest idea of what sort of sorcery resided in the
redhead's wet throat.  He wanted to come, the contents of his balls begging
to shoot into her.  But after another long moment, Dwayne released his hand
from her neck, and she pulled away in one large wet gasp, Sammy watched as
the full foot of dark meat exited her mouth, and Dwayne's near orgasm
subsided.
   "Jesus!" they both said in unison.
   Sammy could feel the tears running down her face and the lingering lines
of spit dripping from her lips.  Wet saliva and possible traces of bile has
splattered on the floor in front of them.  Sammy ignored it, wanting to
jack Dwayne off more with her hands.  He was properly slick now, and the
sight overjoyed her.  The entire span of his giant pleasure rod was soaked
and shiny with spit.
   "That was incredible Sammy, said Dwayne.
   She ignored the compliment.  Sammy was too fixated on shoving his black
rod back into her mouth and sucking it hard and fast.  The adrenaline rush
from taking it in and holding her breath as it bottomed out her tight
fauces had put her in a near hypnotic state.  Her pussy was wet to the
degree it dripped gently between her legs and onto the floor tiles.  Damn,
where the fuck has this fine bitch been all my life?  Thought Dwayne.
   "You ready for the next part?" asked Dwayne, pulling his dick out her
mouth, and noticed what might have been a slight stirring of anger from the
gorgeous fire haired woman in doing so.
   She looked up at him, her eyes furrowed in a sneer.
   "Give it back." She demanded.
   Dwayne laughed.  "I got something better for you baby.  Come here."
   Using one hand Dwayne helped Sammy to her feet.  He guided her over to
the seating area of the sauna, and gently laid her down on her back, her
legs laying over the edge.  Before he proceeded any further, Dwayne kneeled
down towards Sammy's pussy.  He noticed the sparse dot of pubic hair on her
and knew by the color that she was indeed a natural red head.  He smiled,
and stuck his tongue out while parting her wet quivering pussy lips with
two hands.  Sammy immediately jerked as his tongue sunk into her, teasing
the nerves of her and shooting darts of pleasure upon and down her body. 
He wafted his tongue up and down, slowly.  He then proceeded to go left to
right, and then clockwise.
   "Oh my good god" Sammy howled.  "That's sooo good".
   She felt her body tense, and then release with the approaching orgasm.
Dwayne could feel the seeping liquids from her sweet gash wet his tongue,
and knew as well that Sammy was on the verge of climax.  He lifted one of
her legs up with a strong arm, and held it in place as he lapped faster on
her delicious clit.
   "Don't stop.  That's incredible!"
   Dwayne quickened his pace, and before he knew it Sammy was using both of
her hands to clutch at the black man's head as she squirmed with delight.
   "That's it...I'm-I'm-" her words became choppy with her breath. 
"COMIIIINGGGG!!"
   Sammy writhed in place, her upturn leg squirming as her quivering pussy
leaked a profuse amount of juices across Dwayne's outstretched tongue. 
Sammy didn't even have a chance to recover from the subsiding trimmers of
her orgasm, when Dwayne rose to his feet, and with one hand on Sammy's
ripped stomach and the other still holding the redhead's shaking leg, took
his foot long cock and pushed it into Sammy's wet fuck hole.
   ...
   Dwayne knew the task of shoving his solid foot of hard meat into the
redhead's tight wet opening of (perhaps) three inches or so in length and
width would be a challenge, but it wasn't until brushing the head of it
against her taut outer walls and noting its resistance to give way that he
realized how much of a challenge it would truly be.
   "This is probably the tightest pussy I've ever come across." Dwayne said
as he slowly tried to push his way inside her.  "I can barely get the head
in".
   As he bent forward, hoping the added pressure would aid him, Sammy's
pussy slowly began to spread, the inner muscles relaxing and making way for
Dwayne's immense member to enter.
   "Steve says it is really tight", replied Sammy with a mix of a smile and
a grimace as her parts were stretched way passed familiarity.  "And he's
not carrying a baseball bat between his legs like you are".
   Sammy was becoming impatient.  Dwayne's cock was brushing against the
nerves of her labia, and the shocks of pleasure that it caused was driving
her mad.  She wanted the rest of it in him now!  She took her right hand
and lifted it to Dwayne's left hip, gripping the firm lines of muscle that
led to the V shaped cut on lower abs.  Bravely she pulled him forward ever
so slightly towards her, his cock pushing deeper into her vaginal opening
as a result.  Immediately Sammy flung her head back in a mesh of sudden
pleasure and pressure outlined with faints bits of pain as his cock slipped
another inch, causing her to scream.
   "OH GOD!!" came Sammy in a sharp squeak.
   "There, got the head in" said Dwayne.  "One inch down, eleven more to
go."
   "Are you serious?!"
   "As a heart attack baby.  This pussy is in for a serious workout."
   She hadn't been given a moment to prepare herself for the influx of so
much meat into her untrained pussy.  Now that Dwayne's huge member had
found some ground inside her tight snatch, he drove his hips forward more
confidently to get the rest in.  Sammy was still coming down from that
incredible orgasm Dwayne's had given her with his tongue just moments
before, which was bliss personified as far as she was concerned, and was
only thrown into a deeper ecstasy when a stint of seven greatly thick ebony
inches slid into her with a smooth jut of Dwayne's sculptured lower body.
Her scream echoed throughout the sauna, and her body immediately tensed in
concert with Dwayne's as her wet pussy seeped its juices onto his black
cuddle.
   "OOOOOH!" she scream.  "It's SO BIG!"
   Dwayne aligned his body above hers, his arms placed at the tops of the
sitting area on sides right and left of Sammy's head.  His legs were
outstretched and straight behind him, and he placed all of his weight
between the balls of his feet and his core.  Sammy loved what the act of
his balance did to his stomach muscles, and spread her legs wide to give
him room.  Dwayne in turn loved what the motion did to her body as the firm
muscle lines of her legs and thighs stretched for him.  His abs and upper
body were punctuated by him pulling his hips back, his cock receding to
near the tip just before burying itself deep into her with an audible clap
of balls and hips against soft skin.
   "SHIT!" Sammy cursed in a guttural register.
   Her stomach muscles instantly tightened as she felt the huge black cock
traverse a path through her insides, and didn't stop until it fell into
what Sammy could have sworn was the upper portion of her stomach.  That was
definitely new, she thought.  She'd never felt anything like it before.  To
think all this time Sammy had believed her husband's dick had been delving
into the deepest part of her.  The reality however -as Dwayne had just
proved to the redhead- was that on his best day Steve's dick (rock hard)
couldn't measure up (literally of figuratively) to what Dwayne had just
done in one thrust.
   "Oh my god, I think it's in my stomach." she gasped.
   "Yep" replied Dwayne with a grunt.  "By the time I'm done Im'ma know
exactly what you had for breakfast baby."
   Dwayne repeated the motion, pulling back and then shooting forward again
into her quivering wet pussy.  Each thrust was reward with a deep moan or
curse layered gasp from the gorgeous woman.  The process gradually caused
Sammy's speech to curl into an array of nonsensical grunts, beginning as
words such as "So" and "Big" and "Jesus Dwayne".  As Dwayne leaned forward
and bucked his hips forwards and backwards at a quicker pace -each effort
dipping far into the bowels of Sammy's womb- all knowledge of proper
pronunciation was lost.
   Sammy's heart raced as Dwayne collided into her again and again, every
other smash driving her head long into a quick, but mind numbing orgasm. 
They came back to back, a tingling sensation that started in her pussy and
then spread to the rest of her body.  The several minutes he'd spent
bashing into her pussy could have been one long orgasm as far as she knew.
Dwayne continued to grunt, beads of perspiration beginning to show on his
Adonis like body from his efforts.  Eventually he straightened himself and
placed his large hands on the fabric of her towel and felt her tight
stomach underneath.  He could actually feel his cock rumbling around in her
stomach.
   "Can you feel it?" Sammy purred, looking up to him with a seductive
smile.
   Something had changed in the redhead.  Breaking into her womb had caused
something to break inside her.  Her innocent features had melted away to
present a woman of wanton lust and seemingly insatiable hunger for his
ebony rod.
   Her smile, that natural Glasgow smirk set a fire in him.  Her pussy was
being stretched to its limits, but the look still dared him to go harder,
to go deeper.  No longer able to contain his urges to fuck the beautiful
redhead with more force, he scooped her up with of his strong arms.  She
looked surprised at first, but her shocked expression was soon replaced
with one of pleasure that bordered on delirium.  In one motion he had both
of her legs straddling his ripped sides as he held her in the air, and
furiously he went back to fucking her.  She immediately wrapped her arms
around his well framed shoulders biting down on his left -the area where of
his trapezius muscle- to brace her screams from each impact.  He heard her
mouthing the words,
   "Yes!  Yes!  Yes"
   He pumped upward, deep into her dripping pussy.  Sammy felt Dwayne's
mammoth balls slapping against the wet expanse of her ass.  The added noise
of their bodies slamming together in thick wet claps, small explosions of
skin against skin, near drove her mad with rapture.  Her damp wavy red hair
wafted up and down with each motion, and with only the cloth of her
moistening towel to act a buffer for Dwayne's onslaught, the fiery little
athlete's little pussy was all but defenseless.
   "AGGH yes!" she screamed.  "Fuck me Dwayne!"
   "Yeah!" Dwayne grunted in acknowledgement.
   Jesus, Sammy had thought as a particularly thick inch of Dwayne's cock
hit a deep region of her womb.  Steve would have come twelve times over by
now.  Though the thought of what she was doing registered as one hundred
percent wrong in Sammy's brain, the deep onslaught of Dwayne's cock, and
the questioned of,
   "You feelin this workout bitch!?" that Dwayne asked her, made such
concerns fall further back into the area of her mind labeled
"after-thoughts and other nonessential items".  All Sammy could bring
herself to say, all she could bring herself to think was,
   "FUCK YEAH!  I LOVE THIS BIG BLACK NIGGER COCK!"
   ...
   Dale had spent the better part of twenty searching for Sammy.  He'd
checked every room twice before he thought to make his way to the girl's
locker room.  He had wanted to avoid the area, for fear of him being dubbed
a pervert or a peeping tom should one of the old biddies in there see him
and get the wrong idea.  He had quietly poked his head into the locker
room, to find the place was unoccupied and completely empty.  He'd started
to think that perhaps he'd missed her.  That perhaps Sammy had finished her
workout a bit earlier than he'd expected, and had walked out at some point
during his search.  The thought pained him, for he truly wished to see her.
   "Dang" Dale murmured to himself.  He had even checked the sauna first
some time before his decision to find her.  The only person who had been in
there was Dwayne, who he had no desire to be around.  Dale was standing in
the hallway, genuinely about to give up on his mission, when he thought he
heard a noise of some kind coming from down the hall.  He'd been wrapped up
in his own thoughts and wondering if whether or not he'd pick up on his
confession tomorrow when Sammy came in, if he'd have the nerve to do it the
next day.  He stood there for a moment, ears perked up and listening for a
follow up noise.  Just when he'd concluded the sound to be one of the other
gym goers, he'd heard it again.  This time it was clearly coming from
further down the hall, and it most definitely a woman's voice.
   More importantly, it was a woman's voice who Dale had recognized.  Of
all the spills and tumbles, missteps and trips he'd heard Sammy utter and
shout over the years, he'd never heard one quite like that before.  He
known it was her from the very beginning, but the tone of the shout was
something very different than anything he'd heard before.  There was
something about it, a particular pitch and undertone.  Dale walked towards
the source of the noise, his ears up and his eyes on the alert to pinpoint
the spot where Sammy had undoubtedly fallen.  His steps eventually guided
him towards the end of the long corridor, and on some strange unknowable
level, Dale prepared himself for an as of yet unnamable blow.
   ...
   Dwayne was pounding Sammy with as much force as his standing position
would allow.  It was apparently more than enough for the gorgeous redhead,
since she'd just come down from riding the wave of what had already been a
small series of orgasms.  He could feel her pussy beg for more meat -
despite how thick and overwhelmingly long it was - as it seeped sweet warm
juices down his balls and thighs.
   "Oh-god, ooh-go, ooooh gawd!" was all she could bellow between thrusts.
   "That's it baby, work through it.  Get it!
   Sammy was on the verge of yet another orgasm.  She'd stopped counting
some time ago, as the angle and force from Dwayne's body and monster cock
had stretched her tiny gash to the point she thought it would rip her in
two.  She looked down to see herself held in the arms by the powerful
negro. His abs flexed from exuded force, while hers did so in defense
beneath her towel with each thrust the muscled black gave her.  Looking at
the sweat forming across his sculptured body made her drip.  He was working
hard so that she'd keep cumming hard.  He was performing above and beyond
the call of duty from how her body felt.
   When Dwayne felt his own climax approach, he abruptly stopped, and
pulled out of her.  Traces of her bodily fluids coated his cock, and
immediately upon its release Sammy dropped to both knees, took the black
piece back into her mouth, and furiously began face-fucking herself with
it. All the while she made loud near growling noises and her head rapidly
bobbed forwards and backwards.  My pussy tastes delicious off Dwayne big
nigger cock, she thought.  When she finally pulled Dwayne's huge member
from her greedy maw, her chin surrounding area of her lips were shiny with
new spit and the lingering remains of her sweet secretions.
   "Mmmm, tastes so good off your chocolate cock..." she purred.
   Dwayne laughed.
   "You like that baby?  I knew you had the freak in you."
   This bitch is totally cock crazy, he thought.  I love it.
   "You ready for the next part of the workout?" He asked while looking
down at her.
   I know I am, but I'm not sure my pussy is, she thought.
   Sammy enthusiastically nodded her head in an excited yes.
   "Alright, bend over there" he said, nodding for her to turn around onto
the seating area.
   Sammy slowly turned and placed both her hands against upper part of the
seat.  She bent over and placed one toned leg onto the seat and arched her
back.  The motion made her exposed ass cheeks spread and revealed the sweet
pink slit that waited in between them.  Seeing it instantly sent another
strong pulse of blood to Dwayne's raging hard on.  The way she propped her
ass up into the air reminded him of a cat when it stretched, and her
chesire-cat like smile didn't aided the comparison.  Without another word
he approached her.  A silent fever rose inside the room.  Sammy's perfect
slit was waiting for Dwayne.  He took one hand and cupped a single firm ass
cheek, spreading it to the side to make room for him.  His other hand
rested on Sammy's opposite hip.  Her towel -which somehow hadn't been
fucked off of her yet- ended just at her hips.  The position she was in
exposed her delicious underside in its entirety.
   "Just go slow ok", said Sammy, the first hint of nervousness creeping up
from her throat as she felt Dwanye's massive head rubbed against the outer
part of her pussy.  She knew this position would be the scary one.  Dwayne
would be in complete control, and thus far her pussy had been manhandled by
that beast he wielded.  He was teasing her, slowly waving the bulbous golf
ball sized head up and down along her entrance to make her crazy.  Finally,
Dwayne aligned his cock with her sweet opening, and pushed himself inside.
   "Got damn" grunted Dwayne.  "You'd think after all that your pussy would
be easy to get into by now.  This shit's still tight a fuck.
   Sammy turned her head and looked behind her at the strong black stud
coyly.
   "Oh really?"
   "Yep, I'mma have to put in work double time on it."
   "Don't go easy on me" she giggled as Dwayne aligned his long cock with
her opening.
   Give it to me nigger, I can take it...I think, came the voice in Sammy's
head.
   In a gnashing of teeth and forceful plunge of his hips, Dwayne shoved
himself back into Sammy.  Getting the head was still a bit of a chore, but
once she took that first inch Sammy shuttered as the rest of her black bull
slipped inside her.
   "Mmmmm..." she groaned, Biting her bottom lip as she felt her insides
get barreled into.  "So much COCK...".
   "What's wrong baby, hubby don't give you dick like this at home"
chuckled Dwayne, gripping the firm shapely orbs of Sammy ass.
   "Hell no" replied Sammy.  "Not even close, ugh!"
   "Too bad for him, the lining in this pussy `bout to get fucked right
out."
   "Oh no!" came the redhead as Dwayne punched his hips forward.
   "UGGGH!" he bellowed before upping his speed and pulling Sammy back and
forth onto his dick harder.
   ...
   Dale stood just outside the door of the gym steam room.  Again, he'd
heard screams and talking coming from beyond the threshold.  He hadn't been
able to clearly make out the words, but there was grunting involved, and
quite a few cuss words to boot.  Against his better judgment, Dale looked
through the small glass window on the door.  He couldn't see much, the
plumes of steam were obscuring his vision, and the angles one could get on
the room's interior were limited.  Dale shifted his head left to see -with
the best of visual ability- nothing.  He shifted his head to the right, and
saw a particularly dense mass of steam wafting through the room.  After a
moment, Dale realized it was dense, because of the dark body that stood
amidst it.
   It must have been of the steam, because Dale could have sworn the body
was stark naked, the bare ass of the figure facing him.  The steam curled
and coiled around the body, and after a few more moments cleared up just
enough to show more of the towering figure.  He'd seen those muscles
before. Remembered them from the locker room.  Granted it hadn't been in
the manner that Dale was currently observing, the back and hips pumping
back and forth with a significant amount of effort based on the beads of
sweat that were rolling down his back.  Dwayne was busy and up to something
in there, and Dale's heart immediately sunk when a bit more of the steam
cleared.
   First he saw a leg.  A trim, curvy whitish pink one with immaculate tone
lines and muscle definition.  Then he saw the peculiar angle of what Dale
knew from his collection of skin magazines and his secret collection of a
adult DVD's as a female vagina, a pretty and -currently- very much occupied
one getting stuff with a man part that Dale would have better suited on a
prize race horse rather than a human being.  Then he saw the other leg,
hefted up onto the seating bench inside the room.
   Dale gulped nervously, a part him not wanting rest of the steam to clear
away and expose the upper half of who it was Dwayne was putting a
particularly intense pounding on.  And of course, answering his call, the
steam cleared further to show an immaculately curved torso and upper body,
concealed only by a single clothing article consisting of a mid sized towel
that was coming undone with each hard crash from Dwayne as he thrusted into
her.  And lastly, the lingering few swirls parted around the woman's face,
revealing a wanton, decadent, and ravishing beauty of a woman.  Dale knew
that face, but more effectively from the fiery red head of hair that wafted
wetly in the steamy room with hard forward and backwards motions that could
only come from two bodies colliding into each other.  He'd memorized every
line, curve, and flawless angle.  He'd created a thousand different
scenarios and hosted hundred of hazy daydreams that consisted of looking
into the brilliant green eyes that were now staring back at Dwayne with a
ravenous hunger and insatiable lust.  He didn't even want to give her a
name now, couldn't bring himself to even think of her name after seeing
this.
   All Dale could do was look on in fascination, hurt, shock, disgust, and
a peppering of anger at the sight of Dwayne -biggest asshole in the
universe- engaging his long time heartthrob Samantha Spitzmen in what he
could only define as the hardest and -despite his self loathing at
acknowledging the act as such- most intense looking position of doggy style
he'd ever seen.
   ...
   Dwayne's cock bent at the halfway point inside Sammy's defenseless
pussy, but held firm in between her taut ass cheeks.  The position of her
upturned ass clamped down on every inch it could before it bottomed out
completely.  Her tight and toned bubble butt threw him into frenzy.  The
redhead's chaotic groans and sensual grunts had only reaffirmed how much he
wanted to gut her pussy.  She was writhing now, and had actually worked up
the nerve to start pushing her ass back a little with each thrust to let
him know she wanted him deep in her, and loved every inch he had to give
her.  Her face was contorted in a grimace hinting of pleasure and pain, her
white teeth exposed from the effort.  Dwayne sped up.  The increased pace
created audible claps as Dwayne's huge balls swung and hit against Sammy's
underside.  The force of it felt like baseballs were getting slapped
against her skin.
   "OH GOD, OH GOD!  YOU'RE GONNA BREAK MY PUSSY DWAYNE!" she writhed.
   He fucked her harder, wanting to put that theory to the test.  Sammy's
pussy was incredibly warm.  A tight pocket of summer that made him yearn to
bury his dick down to the balls and call it his home.  The steam in the
room was now no longer just steam, but the body heat of their efforts as he
gave and Sammy gladly took.  Dwayne know that if he continued he was going
to nut, and likely drown the woman with the contents of swelled balls. 
Sammy was coasting on the constant waves of pleasure.  Let them sail her to
a series of intense orgasms.  The impacts from Dwayne's solid body drove
her insane.  She absolutely loved getting fucked by him, and she discovered
she had a particular fancy for doggy style, where she could be completely
dominated.  Jenny was right, Sammy thought.  Black Cock is the way to go.
She didn't know how long they'd been going at it, but Dwayne's pace hinted
that he was nowhere near spent.  He hadn't even cum yet, a prospect which
somewhat frustrated her.  She knew Dwayne could fuck for hours, and she
loved that.  She knew Dwayne's cock was more than enough to satisfy her, as
her multiple orgasms had strongly proven.  Now she caught herself wondering
how his semen tasted.  If it was as good as Jenny had made it seem, she was
bound and determined to find out...after she got her fill of Dwayne
pounding her brains out of course.
   "Now, time to show me what you got in you" said Dwayne as he suddenly
stopped smashing into her guts with his humungous dark pipe.  He wiped a
bit of sweat off of his face and took a seat nearby.
   "Let's see how well you ride" he said.
   Sammy turned, her knees shaking from the lingering effects of her last
orgasm.  She wiped beads of sweat from her own face.  Fucking nigger dick
is a real workout, she thought.  She was hot, and the room's temperature
hadn't been tampered with in some time.  It was just idle streams of steam
that was coming from the cauldron.  She was sweaty, glistening from the
intense cardio session Dwayne was giving her.
   "Ok..." she said with a smile.
   She approached him, but before she came into contact with him she untied
the top part of her towel, unclasped it from its folded areas around her
large perky breasts, and let it drop to the ground near her feet.  Dwayne
lay propped up on his elbows on the bench, his ass half hanging off the
edge and his cock standing high and proud at attention before her.  She
still couldn't believe she'd managed to take something so massive inside
her.  Fully erect it looked like it could equate to a baby's full arm in
length and girth (with probably more to spare).  He took a long moment to
appraise the gorgeous redhead's glistening body, all the muscles and curves
of her perfect form on display.
   "Goddamn baby, you're a goddess." He smirked, and she shot him back one
in return.
   Sammy giggled and came closer to Dwayne, and lifted one leg over him
that she straddled him.
   "Thank you.  I try" She said in return.
   "More than try, you succeed gorgeous."
   Sammy blushed.  Awww, he's sweet too, she thought.  She then leaned
forward and kissed him passionately.  A long moment went by, with both
their lips connected and their tongues lapping together at the intersection
of their mouths.  The kiss was deep, with both participants pressing hard
into one another, knowing that neither side would relent for the other. 
When their mouths came away, a thin trail of spit appearing like a minature
tight wire between them, wearing his now infamous smirk Dwayne said,
   "Now give me some more of that good pussy."
   "Now, time to show me what you got in you" said Dwayne, wiping a bit of
sweat off of his face and taking a seat nearby.
   "Let's see how well you ride."
   Sammy turned, her knees shaking from the lingering effects of her last
orgasm.
   "Ok..." she said with a smile.
   She approached Dwayne, but before she came into contact with him she
untied the top part of her towel, unclasped it from its folded areas, and
let it drop to the ground near her feet.  Dwayne lay propped up on his
elbows on the bench, his ass half hanging off the edge, and his cock
standing high and at attention before her.  He took a long moment to
appraise the gorgeous redhead's body.  All the muscles and curves of her
perfect form on display.
   "Goddamn baby, you're a goddess." He smirked, and she shot him back one
in return.
   Sammy came closer to Dwayne, and lifted one leg over him that she
straddled him.
   "Thank you.  I try" She said in return.
   "And succeed.  Now give me more of that good pussy."
   Without another word, Sammy reached behind her with her right arm, and
gripped the shaft of Dwanye's dark baton.
   ...
   Until that moment, Dale wouldn't sworn that what he was witnessing was a
crime in the making.  He'd have sworn to the image of Dwayne having sex
with -no- brutally pounding Sammy beyond what he thought ever to be
possible between man and woman was a vile case of rape happening in front.
He'd have sworn that Dwayne -being the muscle bound jerk that he was- had
forced himself on Sammy, HIS dearest Sammy, and violently pushed his
gigantic man parts into her against her will.  Dale hadn't moved, despite
his outrage.  He knew barging in and trying to stop the huge intimidating
negro would have been the heroic thing to do...but Dale's more cautious
side had deeply advised against it.  Dwayne was a reputed martial arts
expert, on top of having more muscle mass in his left bicep than Dale
probably had in his entire upper body.  Dwayne would pop his head like a
zit if he ever tried to take a swing at him.  Maybe put him in that danged
triangle lock he'd shown him once online from one of his barbaric cage
fights.  A crime was what he'd have sworn was going on.
   That had to be it.  For not in a million years would the Sammy he knew
ever willing do something like...THAT with another man besides her husband.
And even then Dale couldn't (or rather wouldn't) picture Sammy being
capable of appearing so...so...Dale couldn't fill the empty space with a
fitting word.  So -animalistic- during the act.  Looking at her current
state, her sweaty body and the intense almost feral glare that was captured
in her normally gentle facial features, it wasn't at all like the Samantha
he'd known.  And yet...it was when Dwayne stopped brutishly pounding his
beloved that the word rape suddenly was erased from the equation.
   Now Dale wasn't at all personally versed in, nor had he ever bore
witness to such an account, but last time he'd checked, women didn't stop
to take off their own towels before their attackers during an attempted
rape.  They didn't run a hand through their hair seductively, unraveling
the tangled ends as their attacker calmly took a seat and caught his breath
nearby them.  Women who were being raped didn't climb on top of their
attacker, and as far as Dale knew they certainly didn't grab their
attacker's -notably huge- swollen cock and position it near their lady
parts after spreading it with two wet fingers.
   And most caustic of all to Dale, the most damning and damaging image of
the scene, was the fact that...women who being raped didn't often take it
amongst themselves to kiss their attackers.  Hell, he hadn't seen loving
couples kiss as passionately as those two currently were even in the movies
he'd seen.  The sight hurt Dale.  Cut him deep down in his chest.  It made
his heart drop down to his stomach, where it wanted to curl up in itself
and rot.
   But watching Sammy then lower herself onto Dwayne and that wholly
unnatural third arm he had stood up high like a flag pole made Dale's own
member harden, its full five inches straining on the inside of his pants.
She's really gonna put that thing in her, thought the blonde boy.  He
wanted to turn away, wanted to turn and run from the sick ritual of his
cherished Sammy's sullying at the hands of that black bastard.  He wanted
to...but his feet didn't move.  They were frozen in place and his face
never quite got around to turning away.  Dale's cock was moving though. 
Stirring in his pants as it became rock hard, and nearly came -hands free-
before Sammy even managed to nestle the humungous black cock head between
her hot pink pussy lips.
   ...
   "Here it goes..." she said, sliding the fat head up to sweet hole, and
shoving it back into her.
   She would be in control this time, and the thought made her nervous as
well as excited.  If Sammy had known how much fun fucking black cock was,
she'd have told Steven to take a hike a long time ago.  She'd have most
certainly kept him around as a friend she thought, but it wouldn't have
been much more than that.  All the words of caution that had come from
Sammy's sister Roberta, her grandmother's warnings about staying away from
the blacks in town, the council from her peers and elders to keep her steps
far away from N-Town would have been balled up and chucked away in the part
of her mind labeled "nonsensical bullshit".  As Sammy's perfect pink pussy
lips spread to accommodate Dwayne's huge black cock, she wondered to
herself if Bobbie Sue even knew what big black cock was like.  In order to
keep her cover - she didn't want others thinking badly about her still- she
wouldn't ask her to her face, but it was something to ponder.  If only
Bobbie Sue and the other women in her family knew how good big nigger dick
was, she doubted their opinions on black men would be as negative.
   His mouth dropped, and hands came up to the window in an unconscious
motion to push the door open.
   "OH...OH...OHHH!" was all Sammy could squeak out as the dark rod
penetrated her.
   "That's right baby, push yourself on that dick."
   "Jesus Christ!" she bellowed.  It was difficult for the redhead to push
herself down on it.  Her pussy was naturally small, and it struggled to
accept her partner's god sized bludgeon.
   She took it until her tight pussy bottomed out, and again she felt her
insides stuffed with inches upon inches upon more inches of rock hard ebony
goodness.
   "Now move up and down on it", Dwayne said.
   Sammy lifted her taut bubble butt, and then brought it back down as far
as she could on Dwayne's dick.  After three or four deep dips onto his
chocolate stick, Sammy could feel her juices slicking the steely shaft.
   "Good, that's good Sammy" Dwayne encouraged.  "Just like that baby, push
for every inch of it."
   Sammy looked down to Dwayne, who had his arms comfortably folded behind
his head.  She liked that Dwayne allowed her to take control.  Even though
he was in effect giving instruction on how take such a massive member, he
wasn't such a control freak that he felt the need to physically guide her
using his hands, or take the flow of their fucking away from her by bucking
himself upwards into her.  Thank goodness for that, Sammy thought.  He
pulls me down any further on this monster and he'll split me in half.  And
Sammy moved, up and down at an even pace at first, allowing her body to
acclimate to its new heights.  When she got comfortable with the amount of
cock she slid down on, she boldly began thrusting her hips harder.
   Her previous experiences with riding Steve's cock came as no help when
taking on Dwayne.  Steve's penis (a fair size she once thought) was buried
to the hilt whenever she'd be on top.  In the forty seconds it took to make
him climax, Sammy could shake and shift her hips forwards and backwards
with almost complete free control and motion of her body.  Her muscles
could easily handle such a feat, and her speed knocked Steven down for the
count with even less effort.  Dwayne on the other hand was a completely
different.  On top of his humungous man part, Sammy could barely move her
ass up and down at half speed.  Dwayne's cock was so long that it kept her
from upping her pace, each stroke requiring full control of her ass and
hips.  She could go from the head, down to little further than the half way
point, and back up again.  She couldn't chance taking the whole thing, and
when she arched her back and looked down to her own ass, she saw that it
was a very long way down to Dwayne's large balls that swung proudly beneath
her.
   "Speed up baby, you can take it" whispered Dwayne in his silky tambour.
   "OK" said Sammy without question.  She knew it'd be difficult, her body
already glistening with sweat from her labors, but she had to try.  Sammy
Spitzmen was gonna push hard and fuck that big black dick with everything
she had.  She placed her hands on Dwayne's hard stomach and chest, propped
her ass up to the tip of Dwayne's cock, and swiftly began to bounce her ass
up and down on it.  Her speed was incredible, and Dwayne began to groan
with pleasure.  Sammy's ass was a tight, toned, heart shaped mass.  It was
very round and looked simply exquisite as it motion up and done in
conjunction with her shapely back and sculpted thighs.  To get a better
glimpse of the feet, Sammy shifted her upper half to the right, and turned
her head look at her own ass.
   My ass looks so good riding Dwayne, she thought.
   She could feel the pulse and throbbing from Dwayne's cock inside her,
and knew that it was a sign that he agreed as well.  Added as proof to his
approval Dwayne took a hand and cupped one of Sammy's ass cheeks.
   "Ohhh shit ya.  Move that fine tight white ass" he purred, a deep
lion-like tone.
   With his encouragement Sammy became brave, and lifted herself up from
forward position.  She brought herself up, back turning into a muscular
arch, and placed her hands on both of Dwayne's knees for support. 
Furiously she then started swinging her hips back and forth on Dwayne's
slippery dong.  Her abs tensed and released rapidly as she used her body to
shift on Dwayne's powerful cock.
   She screamed and grunted, a barrage of curse words spilling from her
mouth as she fought for every inch and did her best to conform to the
incredibly tight fit Dwayne made of her.  She was wrapped in the seemingly
endless shockwave of their bodies scrapping and rocking against one
another. Dwayne slid his hands from behind his head and grabbed two
handfuls of Sammy's vast bouncing bosom.  The act left the redhead on the
verge of melting.  The combined sensations of Dwayne's cock, plus the
feeling of his hands groping her breasts and fondling her sensitive nipples
was maddening.  Dwayne gently twisted and plucked at her nipples, massaged
the soft skin of her breasts, and bunched them together before lifting up
and taking them to his face and mouth.
   "Oh, oh, oh!" she screamed with every thrust.
   They were both lost in one another, driven by sheer animalistic passion
and through the abilities of their fit bodies.
   And it came only as a fleeting afterthought for Dwayne to raise his
chiseled left arm up behind the writing Sammy, and in a single gesture from
his balled fist, outstretched his middle finger towards the window on the
sauna door, where Dale -face stuck in a permanent O of shock- stood and
watched them from the outside.
   ...
   "I'm gonna nut!" Dwayne grunted as his body tightened.
   Sammy was just calming down her most recent -- and by her estimate most
intense -- climax.  Upon hearing Dwayne's signal that he was reaching his
own end, she immediately hopped off of Dwayne's lap.  Her knees hit the
tiles at the same time Dwayne released his first powerful gush of semen
from his dark swollen cock.  Sammy opened her mouth wide and stuck her
tongue by its full length to catch the thick drops of white that shot up
from her black stud like a geyser.  Cum sprayed up in white globs and
rained onto her lips, chin, forehead and both her cheeks, while higher
drops landed in her wavy red hair.  On her taste buds it tasted divine, and
Dwayne's faced contorted into a countenance stupefied by pleasure.
   "AW SHIIIT!" he groaned.
   Sammy used one hand to grab a handful of Dwayne's huge balls.  She could
actually feel the swollen hefty pair pulse as they drained.  She tilted her
face down and took the head back into her mouth.  Furiously she bobbed her
head on the dark pole, swallowing as much of the rich bounty as her mouth
could hold and swallowing it down her throat just as fast.  As it slid into
her body, a epiphany fell upon the energetic redhead.  Gosh, Jenny was
right.  Black cock is amazing, she thought, silently kicking herself for
not doing this sooner.  On the night of their book club meeting, Sammy had
left the Summers' house with a great deal of guilt on her shoulders.  She'd
been skeptical, enticed, aroused and later apprehensive.  She honestly
thought that Jenny had been embellishing details on taking native cock of a
darker persuasion.  The young Samson West had been by far the most
thrilling blowjob she'd ever given, she'd even caught herself being a tad
bit envious of Jenny watching her fuck the young negro with rabid abandon.
And even still, Sammy walked away with a few lingering doubts as to their
prowess.  That was then, and not a week later she was down on her knees,
sucking on the head of giant black cock with skill that made her resemble a
professional.  If you want it...go get it, the beautiful buxom blonde had
told them.  She'd accepted the dare and taken it on.  And lo and behold,
Sammy Spitzmen had finally been let in on the secret, and discovered her
love of big black cock.
   ...
   Another presumed fact crossed Dale's mind as he stood outside the sauna
door; women who were being raped didn't typically drop to their knees and
enthusiastically start swallowing the ejaculating semen of their attackers.
The furious manner in which Sammy bobbed her head up and down on Dwayne's
(unfairly) massive cock looked almost superhuman to the forlorn young man.
It baffled him almost as much as the gigantic load of cum that would
shooting up from the head of Dwayne's cock like a black fountain.  The
first jut of white alone made the orgasm he'd hand some moments before -
the orgasm that had left a solid dark circle on the front of his pants -
seem feeble at best.  Dale was stuck, transfixed moth to flame like with
watching the display.  And despite his innate wanting to be disgusted, he
couldn't help but silently applaud the black bastard and the redheaded slut
that was ardently servicing him.  His entire collection of porn seemed to
lack luster after watching that performance.
   Dale had never come without using his hands before, and the orgasm he'd
had watching the interracial pair had topped virtually all of his other
solo carnal endeavors by several leagues.  The young man was torn between
jealousy, disappointment, and a pervading feeling of sexual arousal.
   "S-sonofabitch..." said Dale.
   Inside he saw the two figures lavish in the waning moments of their
lust. Dale figured he'd best use this chance to get away.  Dwayne had
already seen him, and made a point to let him know as such near the apex of
their fucking.  Dale quickly turned and near sprinted to the men's locker
room.  Despite all he'd seen, most likely because of what he'd seen, Dale
couldn't bring himself to face Sammy.  It hurt too much to think about it,
but somehow the blow was numbed by the memory of how hard his orgasm was
watching her.  Can't let her see me, he thought.  Dale raced down the
hallway and threw himself into the men's locker room.
   ...
   Some time later, Sammy Spitzmen had finished her second shower of the
day.  The hot water was heaven on her skin, and she was so thoroughly
relaxed that she didn't mind having to use several extra applications of
shampoo to get all of Dwayne's cum out of her hair.  Reflecting on how it
dripped down her skin, how it glazed her face and rolled down her neck and
tits made her horny for more.  Even then she could feel the onset twinge of
desire set on her well beaten lady parts.  That was soooo good, she
thought. Back in the sauna Sammy had told Dwayne as such.
   ...
   "Definitely was baby.  I'll definitely have to be sure to up my protein
before next time.  F'I wasn't trained, you'd be wearin a nigga out."
   "Next time?" said Sammy, her green eyes illuminating at the thought.
   "Oh yeah, we're definitely gonna have to make this a regular thing",
Dwayne had said while rising to his feet.  "As your new trainer, it only
makes sense we meet up at least a few times a week to keep your body lookin
right."
   Sammy beamed at the thought of taking on Dwayne again.
   "Ha-ha, I can't wait." She giggled.
   Sammy rose to her feet, but failed to notice the towel she'd taken off
was right in her path.  The abrupt slide of the towel on the tiles caused
her to slip backwards and fall hard on her butt just before the cauldron.
There was wet smack and an even louder clatter of an object hitting the
ground.
   "Ouch, dang it!" cursed Sammy.
   "We should probably work in some balance training while we're at it" he
said while placing a hand on his head in embarrassment for the girl.
   ...
   Sammy was embarrassed by the third little spill she'd taken, but was
coasting too joyously on the knowledge of future workouts to really care.
Her clumsiness had landed her onto something monumental.  It made her smile
to think that she'd be meeting with Dwayne regularly from now on.  Her
workout routine would have a whole new layer of excitement.  On her way out
of the gym after she'd thoroughly cleaned herself and gathered her things,
she noticed Dale was sitting at his desk.  He was giving her the strangest
look.  His eyes were two big blue softballs stuffed inside a pale white
ghost face.
   "You okay Dale?" she asked.
   "Y-yeah", squeaked the blonde boy.
   "You sure, you look really pale."
   Dale grumbled something under his breath, though Sammy wasn't able to
make sense of any of the words besides `dark'.
   "What was that?"
   "Oh, nothing" said Dale, trying to force a smile for her sake.  "I...I
guess I'll see you later this evening then?  Turns out the boss caved and
decided to give me more hours."
   "That's great Dale.  I'm not coming back for my second workout though.
After the workout I had today, I'm plum worn out."
   "Ha-ha" Dale laughed nervously.  Yeah, three feet a cock'll leave anyone
tuckered out I'd bet, thought Dale in a silent bite on envy.
   "I'll see you later though" said Sammy before striding out the front
door.
   Dale thought he should have confronted her.  Confessed to her, shook her
by the shoulders and told her he'd seen her and that bastard Dwayne in the
locker room.  Demanded an explanation of why and how could she do that him,
to her husband Steve.  That he knew her to be far above such behavior.  But
despite the voice screaming in his head to do what he felt was the noble
thing, he didn't.  Because, came the tinnier voice that sat in the dark
regions of his mind.  Because, if you tell her you know, she'll no doubt
leave the gym.  And if she leaves the gym, she won't...Dale had to cut
himself off from completing the thought, uncertain of what it would say
about him and his own standing as a man if it were allowed to be completed.
   It was well into the afternoon hours when Sammy Spitzmen finally
returned to her home.  She was, in every way conceivable, exhausted.  She
barely made it passed the doorway before dropping her duffel bag
unceremoniously onto the floor.  She trudged up the stairs at just shy a
snail's pace, and collapsed into her bed just as the last bit of her energy
had given out.  Screw the other house chores, she thought.  When the house
phone rang she ignored it, choosing the allow the answering machine to do
the work for her.  Sammy received two phone calls.  The first was from
Ivana.
   Sammy?  Sammy it's Ivana.  Look, something last minute came up at work
today.  Not sure how long its gonna hold me up, but it looks like I'm going
to have to skip out on our workout tonight.
   "Fine by me..." grumbled Sammy face down in the pillows.
   I know I know.  No pain, no gain and all that.  I can feel you pouting
from here.  You know I wouldn't cancel on you if there weren't an
absolutely good reason for doing so, so trust me when I say I'm onto
something massive over here.  I'll explain later.  Make it up to you next
week.  Talk to you later dear.
   The second message was from Sammy's husband Steve.
   Hey sweetheart!  Weird, I'm not used to you not answerin the phone.
   The last thing Sammy planned on doing for the next while was moving, so
she simply remained motionless in bed.
   Anyway, looks like I'll be gettin home a few hours early today.  Don't
know about you, but after a hot shower and a good meal I think I'll be
ready to make up for a little uh...lost time, if you catch my drift. 
Ha-ha, see you in little bit honey.  Bye.
   That's not happening, thought Sammy.  If Steve tried having sex with her
now, even if Sammy weren't completely wiped out, he'd definitely know
something was up.  Sammy knew that even after her body finally recovered,
it would take a hell of a lot more time for her pussy to shape back down to
Steve's size...if ever again.  No, her and her husband wouldn't be getting
into anything remotely steamy that night, that was for damn sure.  She'd
lay there, face flat on her soft pillows, and reflected yet again on the
incredible events of the day.  If she were going to keep up this pace,
she'd have to be sure to stock up on workout recovery drinks on her next
visit to the market.  She let the images parade through her mind and lull
her into a hazy sleep.  And the last thought to cross her mind before
drifting off into a much deserved slumber was,
   Wait til the girls hear about this...
   To Be Continued...
   Bianca's story.
   "So, who wants to tell me what Carl Denham means when he says t'was
beauty that killed the beast?"
   Bianca Blackwood stood before her audience and calmly scanned the
expanse of the room.  For all their youth and vitality, the stillness and
quiet that came from the students held all the life and vigor of a grave
yard.
   "Anyone?" she asked patiently, tilting her horn rimmed glasses up
slightly to get a clearer glimpse of her student's young faces.  Not a peep
from the crowd, just a slew of blank clueless stares and wholly
disinterested sneers.
   It simply amazed Blackwood how selective teenager's priorities were. 
Ask a relatively simple question about the meaning and significance of a
line from a classic film - one they had just finished watching no less -
and you received a hail of deer in headlights looks at best, and a topside
view of neglectful heads at worst.  Ask them about what happened on the
latest episode of "I'm a Teenage Mother-to-be" or the final score of the
previous week's football game however, and you couldn't get them to pipe
down without an air horn and a stick of dynamite in hand.  Youth indeed
goes wasted on the young, thought Bianca.  It didn't dishearten her as much
as annoy her these days.
   Bianca Blackwood had been teaching for a fair number of years now, and
the steady lack of enthusiasm from her students towards any subject matter
that couldn't be summed up or abbreviated in monosyllabic forms or via
tweet had already executed its due process of taking the wind from her
sails.  These days her disappointment was overtaken by vexation towards her
pupil's less than stellar performance and almost nonexistent enthusiasm.
   "Um..." rose a meek voice from stilled crowd near the front of the class
after a few moments.
   Bianca's eyes settled on the voice's source as a slim white arm lifted
calmly upward.  Of course, thought Bianca, because no one else seems
capable of basic analysis aside from the AP student.
   "Ah, Ms.  Rosenwood" said Bianca with a warm smile.
   It didn't surprise Bianca that Daphne Rosenwood was the only student to
raise her hand.  She was her star pupil after all, and she did seem to be
the only one ever genuinely interested during their class sessions.  Daphne
was a...modest girl, if not wholly conservative.  She had rich and full
chestnut colored hair, which she kept in a ponytail that trailed down to
her shoulders, striking hazel eyes, smooth white skin, high cheek bones and
rather full pinkish lips.  A pretty girl, just very...traditional in her
manner of dress, which - coming from Bianca Blackwood - was a statement. 
Daphne's light blue and gray blouse, skirt and blazer reminded Bianca more
of her parent's generation rather than that of a teenage girl living in the
first decade of the 21st century.  Bianca found it to be a breath of fresh
air though, compared what some of the other young `ladies' in her class
were wearing these days.
   The obscenely high cut shorts, slippers and white cut off t-shirt that
Kitty Summers was wearing on the other hand, was the antithesis of Daphne's
sensible style.  The lithe and perky blonde, along with her two cohorts -
Patricia and Miko - sat towards the back of the class, all them dawning
different colored shirts bearing the same B.O.W logo along the chest.  The
word distraction came to Bianca's mind.  This word applied to Patricia, or
Patty as she was often called, especially.  The tall redhead's bountiful
chest could barely remain contained in such a tight fitting article of
clothing.  Bianca, being a woman of ample curves herself, could understand
the girl's plight of having difficulty finding properly fitted clothing,
but Patty didn't even appear to be spitting in the general direction of
trying.  Miko, the smallest girl of the group, wasn't exposed as much as
her friends, yet somehow she still managed to make herself blend right in
among the trio with the degree of leg, thigh and stomach she had exposed.
   All three girls scoffed in unison at Daphne's gesture to speak.
   "What Denham meant was that it was Kong's desire to have Ann that got
him killed."
   Bianca smiled in response.
   "Interesting thought."
   Daphne continued.  "Ann's beauty was what captivated Kong.  It drove him
to fight every beast on the island, it soothed him when he was fatigued or
injured, and tragically it was what resulted in his death.  His obsession
with her gave him strength, but also left him vulnerable.  The fact he was
a huge ugly gorilla aside, it's a rather romantic plight actually."
   Bianca couldn't have smiled any more brightly than she was at that
moment.  It charmed her to see her efforts to educate the youth weren't
entirely wasted.
   "Yes, a brilliant observation Daphne.  The film ultimately is a romantic
tragedy.  One we've come across many times in Hamlet, Romeo & Juliet, and
so forth."
   Kitty the other girl's couldn't have thrown knives any sharper than
their glances at Daphne.  It was foolish, but the trio's malice towards the
girl didn't seem to be capable of anything but.  The rest of the class just
continued looking back and forth between Daphne and Mrs.  Blackwood.
   "Well, it's good to see at least one person is awake during class.  Well
said Daphne."
   Daphne smiled sheepishly, her cheeks turning a stark rosy red.
   "Half truth!" came a gruff but youthful sounding voice from the very
back of the room.
   Upon hearing it Bianca's heart instantly sank.  Oh no, just when you
thought it was safe, the beautiful blonde instructor thought as another
hand went up from the crowd.  At once all the heads in the class turned
towards the voice's origin.  The risen hand was a deep brown color, lined
with taut muscle and bare up just beyond the bicep.  Bianca sighed, for she
knew that from here on out, class wouldn't be nearly as pleasant as it had
been.
   "Mr.  Styles" said Bianca hesitantly and with a bit more venom than what
may have been necessary.  "There's something you'd like to add to Daphne's
assessment?"
   "More like correct..." came the voice in a clipped tone.
   At this Daphne turned her head to the back of the room, her eyes
narrowing at the thought of her intellect being openly challenged.
   "The whole romance angle is cute an eh'thang, buuut..." the voice
trailed off for a moment.  "It wasn't homegirl that got Kong killed, it was
that connivin' ass promoter and the anglofied system that got him put
down."
   The class all turned back to Mrs.  Blackwood, their eyes looking alert
and interested for the first time that day.  A small band of students in
Style's vicinity began jeering and blurting a steady rise of instigative
noise.
   "Aww shit, here we go son!"
   "Tell em' ma nigga!"
   "Here we go cuh!"
   It was the same breed of antagonistic call that Bianca would often hear
on the basketball court and football fields of the school.  The stabbing
pitch of intimidation that came mere moments before conflict.  Of course it
did, Bianca thought, it was the noise of black youths who were getting
their kicks out of the prospect of discord, the scent of an argument.  The
four students, one Gerald Styles included, were of such color and caste. 
The four young men sitting at the far end of the classroom sat in a small
pack.  Slouched in their seats in their baggy jeans, loose fitting shirts,
brightly colored hats and so forth, they'd managed to remain silent all the
way up until the time Gerald - the group's ring leader - had spoken up. 
Gerald himself was a shorter fellow, or at the very least a half a head
shorter than Bianca.  He had black close cut hair, deep brown eyes, a
strong square jaw and facial features, and was built like some kind of
stunted ox.  The young man was short - 5'6' at most - but he was of a large
build, with a wide chest, broad shoulders, and arms that held immense
degrees of muscles.  His lower stomach possessed a bit more girth than
muscle, which made him appear - Bianca secretly thought - a bit like the
famed Kong.  His strong facial features did not help this comparison
either. While not an altogether unattractive boy, Gerald's wide nose and
brow line gave him a more ape like quality than the blonde teacher would
allow herself to ignore or openly confess.
   Kitty, Patty and Miko's eyes were suddenly fixated on Gerald, a curious
anticipatory glint contained in their eyes as Bianca silently noticed.
   "Really?  Care to explain?" said Bianca.
   "Fasho" Gerald said.  "Ya see, it was those white-bread niggas in
America, Denham and them, who thought it would be a good idea to go into
Kong's cut and uproot him outta his land an' shit."
   Bianca and the others remained silent, but all heads remained on Gerald.
   "Old girl didn't have nothin directly to do with Kong gettin tagged,
though she was an incentive.  When Kong got hot over being confined and
placed on a stage as a figure of fun in fronta folks, he fought to escape,
but ultimately fell a victim to an innately oppressive system."
   "And I'm assuming this oppressive system is the `anglophile' one you
spoke of earlier?" responded Bianca.
   "One in the same.  The movie is a metaphor for slaves and the black
man's struggle in a hostile environment."
   And here it comes, thought Bianca.  The racially charged rant.  Gerald
Styles, aka G-Stylz to his peers, was what Bianca referred to as a
"rabble-rouser".  Being the ham and desperate seeker of attention that he
was, it only made sense that he'd use any and every opportunity to root
controversy and start uproar in whatever room he happened to be occupying
at any given time.  Every historical, cultural, biological, anatomical or
literary topic they discussed in class inevitably veered into racial issues
whenever Styles decided opened his mouth.  The class was turning back to
Mrs.  Blackwood when she noticed she'd crossed her arms tightly around her
ample chest.
   "The uprootin of a being of power from his homeland, totin' him across
the sea to foreign soil, and then destroyin that being when he frees
his-self, AND - most importantly - runs off with a bangin ass white woman."
   "Ugh!" Shot another voice from the crowd.  This one was on the far left
hand side of the room.  Stacey Brown - a young and astonishingly beautiful
black girl in Mrs.  Blackwood's class - turned in her seat to face Gerald.
And Bianca thought Kitty and her group were shooting dangerous stares.
   "Why does everything have to revolve around a black man running off with
a white woman with you!?" said the girl in a flustered tambour.
   Bianca remained silent, choosing to let the debate take its own shape.
Mrs.  Blackwood liked Stacey, as she was one of the few African-American
students in her class who made it a point to be polite and respectful
towards her elders.  With a solid grade-point average and wit belonging to
the brightest of Coxvillian youth, Bianca didn't find it at all
unreasonable to allow the young woman to speak her mind in the face of what
they both knew to be a ridiculous -and quite frankly racist-- belief.
   "Psh, because it's natural attraction.  The black man is the most
desirable male specimen, a `wonder of the world'.  Female impulse dictates
dey go after da prime and most fit male of da species."
   "PREACH nigga!" came the minion on Gerald's right.
   "Its only natural dey go after the black man.  That's why you saw old
girl Anne weepin and getting all cozy with Kong after awhile.  And it can
only be expected that - as a result - the other less desirable males of the
species do err'thing in their power ta keep da better male down."
   "That's ridiculous!" shot Daphne.  "Not to mention completely racist!"
   "Its truth boo.  Why the fuck else would the military roll in crazy ass
force like dat against Kong?"
   "Because he was a menace!  Not to mention the fact it was a movie!" the
girl shot back.
   "Yeah, a menace to the white man's stash of white pussy."
   The class gave a collective gasp, and if Bianca had been paying
attention to her own body language, she'd have noticed her jaw being
slightly agap.
   "Art imitates life Daph.  Government, law, business, its all set up to
keep the black man in chains.  When a nigga breaks free, and takes his
earned piece of the pie, the system will only allow him to go so far up the
proverbial building until they cut him down.  Its all rooted in fear. 
Anglo fear of the black man, fear of his abilities, and - most importantly
- fear of what the black man can do to his white skinned maidens."
   With this, Gerald narrowed on Daphne in a more than suggestive smirk. 
The once silent class room had risen to a host of murmurs and chaotic
conversation.  Some were offended, some were angry, some were embarrassed,
and others were simply shocked.  Gerald and his boys however, found the
response to be nothing short of comedy.
   "That's the dumbest shit in the world Ger" came Stacy, crossing her
arms.
   "Don't fret Stace, you know the black man will always love his native
woman.  Who else is gonna handle all this dick we got goin on down here?"
   "You're-" Daphne began.
   "We just gotta get at these fine ass fraulines first."
   The noise in the class rose to a loud clamour.
   Bianca's calls to make the class settle down went unnoticed amongst the
rabble.
   "Alright, alright, that's enough.  Everyone settle down!"
   Her calls went ignored, and were only put down with the ringing of the
bell.
   "Ugh, goodness, alright, class dimissed."
   Immediately the students grabbed their belongings and rushed for the
door.  Kitty, Patty and Miko were still giggling as they followed Gerald
and his friends out the door.
   "Oh, and do not forget your outlines for the upcoming report are due on
my desk tomorrow!  No excuses nor pleas will be accepted."
   No one answered as they filed out of the room, and Mrs.  Blackwood
sighed deeply.  Why do I bother, she thought.
   ...
   "Is it my fault?" said Bianca while standing in front of her bathroom
mirror.  She was diligently brushing her teeth from side to side while
talking, the white foam of toothpaste cresting the sides of her mouth.  "Am
I just that terrible as a teacher that I can't get even them interested for
one hour out of the day?"
   Bianca was wearing her typical night attire, which consisted of a plain
white t shirt and pajama shorts.  One of her bare legs was cocked the
slightest bit forward as she leaned forward towards the mirror, her right
arm placed on the countertop.
   "Honey", came Bianca's husband Jebediah Blackwood - Jeb he preferred for
short - from the adjoining bedroom, "You know that's not true.  These kids
today have the attention span of fruit flies, all that TV and tweeting
nonsense have their brains everywhere and nowhere at once."
   Jeb was sitting upright against the headboard of their king sized bed,
reading an issue of Forbes magazine.  The cover showcased a very
attractive, very muscular and regal looking young light-skinned black man.
He had neatly cropped hair and was held a wide and confident smirk in a
casual pose while wearing a smart looking business suit, the subtitle of
the reading in bold: The Dawning of the Brook's Empire.
   "Their not being able to focus I can handle, it's watching them jump to
life at the first sign of chaos that frustrates me.  Read them Poe or Twain
or the words of Shakespeare, and all I get is stark silence.  But belt a
few curse words and some crude toilet humor mixed in wild pseudo philosophy
on racial superiority, and you've got a near riot of discussion in the
classroom."
   Jeb chuckled at this.
   "Silence or a riot huh, interesting options."
   "ARGH!  Bianca sighed in frustration.  "At this point a riot over
classroom lectures would be a breakthrough.  Today was the most alive I've
seen that class in weeks."
   Bianca went about the process of rinsing out her mouth and spitting the
minty dregs of now watery toothpaste into the sink.  Afterwards she dried
her mouth and took a few moments to appraise herself in the mirror.  Bianca
Blackwood, by the testimony of peers, friends and total strangers alike,
was a knockout.  Taller than most women she knew by an idle few inches -
likely the product of her Germanic lineage - Bianca was the type most
people would almost immediately notice upon walking into a room.  She would
often joke with others who commented on her height that she was descended
from Vikings.  With her glossy shoulder length blonde hair, straight and
perfectly centered nose, ocean blue eyes and full round breasts, Bianca
Blackwood resembled more of a goddess taken from lore of Norse Mythology
than a high school Lit teacher.  Her smooth, long and lithely muscular
limbs were a natural part of her, and through healthy diet and regular
exercise Bianca had accentuated these features as well as maintained a
youthful glow about her skin that made her lily white features spring
whenever she smiled.
   Her body was perfectly lean and shapely, and from a front angle one
could easily note the healthy outer curvature of her hips.  Bianca was
content with this as much as any woman could be.  She felt sexy, and knew
that she was as such.  It vexed her however when she turned to view her
side profile in the mirror.  Bianca sighed, and looked at the mirror with a
frown at the immensely round and astonishingly plump orbs that made up her
ass.  After the smooth inward curve of her lower back, Bianca Blackwood's
backside bloomed outward, an unnatural degree of mass making up of the soft
flesh and about as hidden muscle as she could attain from her regular
workouts.  Despite being told time and time again that it didn't look bad,
the disproportionate mass and protrusion of it with the rest of her body
often left her feeling somehow unnatural.  It didn't help that her
condition was noted by others, and it made for her feeling invariably
uncomfortable around...certain types of people.
   Bianca could never understand how or from where she'd inherited such a
large posterior.  As far as she knew large behinds like hers didn't run
standard in her family, and she definitely knew it hadn't sprouted from any
kind of indulgence of fatty snack foods or lazing about.  She had gained a
little weight between bearing her and Jeb's two children, and that
certainly had compounded to problem.  The meat of Bianca's ass held snug in
her pajama shorts, an abrupt cup of skin and soft flesh at the bottom seam
where her thighs were exposed.  The frown deepened on the gorgeous blonde's
face, distorting her features.  Finding out how to get rid of this would be
another breakthrough, she thought.
   "Don't stress yourself out over it dear" came Jeb from the other room, a
reassuring tone in his voice.  "You do what you can, and you leave the rest
to what's supposed to happen naturally."
   Bianca slowly walked out of the bathroom, a curious look on her face.
   "Is my...is my butt too big?" she bluntly asked.
   Jeb's green eyes shot up from his magazine to sternly look at his wife.
   "This again?"
   "Well...is it?"
   "Sigh...what did I tell you the last nine times about it?"
   "I know, we've gone over this before.  But that was-"
   "A week ago" Jeb interrupted.
   "Yes, a week ago."
   "And what did I tell you then?"
   Bianca sighed.  "Not at all sweetheart" she said, making her voice low
in imitation of her husband, who she thought always reminded her of Gregory
Peck in his role as Atticus Finch.  "It's perfectly fine.  Nothing wrong
with you at all on the butt department."
   "Precisely."
   "But...I'm more than halfway certain eight of those times you weren't
being honest, and one of those times doesn't even count on the grounds you
just grunted like you do when you're not really paying attention."
   "These high school kids are rubbing off on you."
   "Be honest..." she said, a slight pout forming on her face, one she knew
Jeb was ever impelled to cater to.
   Jeb knew what that meant.  When a woman said be honest, it really mean
lie to me with everything you've got so I can feel better.
   And once again, Jeb reassured that her ass, on accounts and purposes,
was not too big, and that there were no problems with it whatsoever.
   Bianca sighed.  She knew what that meant.  When a man said there was
nothing wrong with you at all, it meant really meant, yeah, that thing is
beyond huge, I blame your mother.  Jeb did his best to reassure her again.
This was responded with,
   "Alright...you're placating to me...but-" she said.
   "No" started Jeb.  "I'm merely telling you the truth."
   "Right..."
   With that Bianca approached the bed, abandoning the topic for the time
being, and fell onto the bed with a soft thud and the turning of covers.
   "Anyway, I wouldn't be nearly as stressed out if it weren't that darned
Styles boy."
   "That kid sounds like a typical punk", Jeb immediately grunted back
without even looking away from his magazine.
   Bianca had told Jeb about her issues with Gerald "G-Spotz" Styles.  He'd
hated the boy from word one, and that loathing for the young negro only
seemed to grow with each new report of disruption.
   "Its little wastes of space like that that make me grateful parts of
town are set up the way they are."
   Bianca was silent, but knew what Jeb meant.  The structure of Coxville,
a county located in the Deep South, was one that had maintained a
longstanding degree of structural and cultural division between differing
races.  This practice dated back many decades, as far back as the Mexican
War from what she had read.  Individuals like Gerald Styles and his friends
made up the inhabitants of the much dreaded N-Town, the run down part of
the county that was occupied entirely by the colored citizens.  There,
crime and disorder were a common practice, and it was where many of the
area's youth had learned the dreadful habits (and atrocious grammar) she'd
witnessed at Coxville high school.
   On the polar end of town was greater Coxville, where Bianca, her family
and all of her friends lived.  If night and day had a demographic, their
part of town would have been where the sun shone brightest.  Bianca was an
intelligent woman however.  She did not equate this circumstance to be a
simple matter of "good and bad".  Bianca Blackwood knew of the great
injustices people of color had been dealt over the centuries, and she was
not at all an advocate of blatant racism that seemed inherent in the town's
history, racism being a force which stunts intelligence.  But on the same
token Bianca was aware that, in regards to pure fact, some cultures were -
suffice it to say - simply better than others.  As a teacher, Bianca was
driven to instruct every student equally and to the best of her ability. 
As a thinking woman however, this did not blind her to the fact that -
though she hated to admit it - not every student would take to her
tutelage. Boys like Gerald Styles and his crew were just the unfortunate
few who'd hadn't fallen in line or come to understand how important
education was.  It was sad, but alas at the end of the day it wasn't her
fault.
   "I swear that boy gets joy out of making my job as difficult as humanly
possible."
   "It's what his kind does dear.  They're angry at the fact they know
other people around them are actually making something of themselves, and
therefore make it a point to act out as a last ditch attempt to matter. 
They'd rather fail out loud and in front of an audience than buckle down
and succeed through hard work, like this Brooks fellow here."
   Bianca sighed, settling herself underneath the covers.  "The truly sad
thing is", said Bianca.  "The kids really truly respond to him.  It's like
he has this invisible hold over everyone in class.  I've half a mind to
take notes on how he does it."
   "A jester's talent dear" Jeb replied.  "Fools can capture the attention
of almost anyone, its their lot in life and sadly it's a fleeting one at
best."
   "If only..." she began.
   "Stop worrying about it" Jeb then said, setting the magazine aside and
turning over to face her.  "You're going to give yourself wrinkles
overnight if you keeping thinking about it."
   "Wrinkles and a big behind...attractive thought...thanks."
   Jeb grumbled.
   "Don't even start."
   The two kissed gently, and Jeb turned out the bedroom light.  In the
dark Bianca was left to her thoughts.  Many of them were random, and some
revolved around the events of the day.  Government, law, business, its all
set up to keep tha black man in chains.  It's all rooted in fear.  Anglo
fear of tha black man, fear of his abilities, and - most importantly - fear
of what tha black man can do to his white skinned maidens.  Bianca pondered
the boy's rant, indulged it briefly in the privacy of her mind.  We jus
gotta get these fine ass fraulines broke in first.  Where does he get these
ridiculous ideas, thought Bianca.  G-Spotz!  Cuz dat's what I hit wit ma
fat ass dick, NIGGA!  Bianca turned over under the covers, resting her head
against her pillows.  B3 in tha mu'fuckin buildin!  Bianca flinched,
thinking back on that name, B3, and what it implied.
   "Ridiculous..." Bianca murmured to herself, lilting herself into a
flustered sleep.
   ...
   (One week after the fated Coxville book club meeting)
   "Conclusively, Twain's final note to his audience is one of a satirical
nature on the political, cultural, and racial standing of America during
the 20th Century.  A note that was bold and salient in its era and remains
as such now as we traverse through the 21st century.  Thank you..."
   Daphne Rosenwood finished presenting her paper to the class with a small
closing bow as a steady - if half-hearted - hail of applause filled the
room.  Several students kept their responses secluded to a `golf' pitch,
while Kitty Summers and her two cohorts Miko and Patty chose to opt out of
joining in the round altogether.
   "Good work girl" said Stacy Brown with a playful nudge as Daphne took
her seat next to her.
   "Thanks, I think it was alright" replied Daphne coyly.  "A lot of the
good material I had omit for time purposes."
   "Shoot, I'll be lucky if I break two minutes on mine" replied the dark
skinned beauty.
   The most fervent and excited clapping of hands came from Mrs.  Bianca
Blackwood, who sat to the far right of the room in a simple brown chair
that she'd brought from home some time prior.  She could have sat in one of
the open student's chairs while the pretty brunette read her report before
the classroom, but she'd learned from previous experiences those things
simply drove her mad with discomfort.  The tall, buxom and extremely
curvaceous blond couldn't be paid to sit still in the standard sized chairs
they provided at Coxville high.
   The confining flat wood surface always pressed into her large round
breasts and the seating was always too blunt for her skin and not nearly
wide enough to accommodate her shape.  When the physical discomfort and the
jeering whispers from Gerald "G-Spotz" Styles and his cronies on how
Bianca's ass cheek hung over the edges became unbearable, she decided to
bring one of her own chairs from home.
   "Brilliant work Daphne" said Bianca with a beaming smile, "Hands down
the best presentation yet."
   Daphne blushed, while other students near her scoffed.  Bianca hated to
appear as though she played favorites, but the young conservative girl had
been her best pupil by far.  Of all of her class periods, Daphne had shown
herself to be the sole straight-A student of the lot.  Over the last three
days the class had gone through a wide number of presentations, and with no
contest Daphne's had been the star piece.  Bianca already knew that even
with the half dozen or so remaining papers to be read, Daphne's was going
to be best of the batch.  Bianca went down her list of remaining
presenters. The list went alphabetically, with Daphne Rosenwood being the
last of the R's.
   "With that, our next presenter is going to be...Ms.  Stacy Brown"
   Stacy took a deep breath and went about gathering the slips of paper
that made up her report.  As she approached the podium at the front of the
class, several voices arose from the back of the sitting crowd.  They were
scattered, and held such a thick southern drawl that the words sounded more
like mashed paste is it were somehow made audible.  A keen ear would have
been able to decipher the noise as something like,
   "Don't take too long lil mama!"
   "Read that shit fast, aight!"
   "How many more niggas gotta go today?"
   The noise - of course - came from the three boys sitting at the far back
of the classroom.
   D'shawn, Khalil and Devon were the three cronies of Gerald Styles, or
`G-Spotz' to his friends.  The three boys had already gone up before the
class.  They'd succeeded in showing the class exactly what happens when a
student refuses to put any effort into their schoolwork.  D'shawn', Khalil
and Devon had all chosen the same topic, and - in their ingenious plan of
strategy - had all copied from the same online analysis site.  On a meeker
and less scrutinizing teacher their plan might have worked, however Bianca
Blackwood was simply not that breed of instructor.  She'd given F's to the
three of them almost instantly, and had worked herself into a fine rhythm
explaining to the class after each unutterable presentation why plagiarism
would not be tolerated in her classroom.  The boys were somewhat
embarrassed, but cared little after the final word was spoken on the
matter.
   G-Spotz meanwhile had yet to show up to class that day, a fact which
loomed over Blackwood's mind as both a blessing and a curse.  She was more
than grateful to have some semblance of order in the young man's absence,
especially given the importance of the reports at the current stage of the
school semester.  Without G-Spotz's lead, his three boys proved to be far
less rowdy, and could easily be tamed with a stern glare or word of caution
from the beautiful blonde teacher.  Stacy glared at the trio and Blackwood
shot them a sharp shhh!  Immediately the three boys piped down.  Hmph!  not
nearly as tough without their ring leader, thought Bianca with a smirk that
might have come off as a bit overly satisfied.
   A part of Bianca wondered if Styles would try using the same material as
his three friends.  The other part of her knew better.  Gerald Styles was a
creep and a menace on a variety of levels, but a copy-cat and moron he most
certainly was not.  Blackwood could freely admit that to herself.  She only
hoped that whatever words the unruly youth chose to speak to the class for
his report weren't nearly as offensive as the last big scene he'd made in
the room.  That outburst had been weeks ago, but the memory still held a
sour note on Bianca's nerves.  It may have been a case of her wounded pride
as a teacher, or a woman, or as a southerner, or perhaps being a white, or
(most likely) some aggregation of the lot.
   Whatever the reason, her loathing of that boy held strong.  It held, but
these days - as Bianca slowly began to realize - held with...something else
attached to it.  Something which Bianca - despite spending hours upon hours
pondering -- couldn't quite put her finger on.  Much had happened since
that major incident involving Gerald, a great many things indeed for the 27
year old teacher.  New events and shared experiences with her good friends
Sammy Spitzmen, Ivana Swallows, Anya White and Jenny Summer had the
Caucasian beauty feeling like certain things in her life...skewed. 
Bianca's mind had found itself drifting off more and more into places that
she'd never even considered before as wife, mother of two, a teacher and
Coxville woman.  And as a result her views on Gerald Styles had gradually
begun to change somehow.
   Assuredly she still found the young negro to be rude, arrogant,
argumentative, crass and outright offensive with his racist life views, but
there was something else there that Bianca couldn't place.
   She gnawed on what it could possibly be, what had changed in her image
of G-Spotz, when Stacy began her report.  Bianca snapped her head back up
to watch the girl.  Her topic was a contemporary romance novel that their
class had read earlier in the year, and how the traditional motifs of
"romance" had been changed over the years to reach broader audiences.  With
any luck he'll stay a no-show and I can just grade his report separately,
Blackwood thought.
   Stacy's points were concise, her speech clear and pleasant to the ear,
and the class as a whole couldn't have cared less.  Many heads were staring
off into space, and others were so bluntly ambivalent that their heads were
lying flat on the desk.  Blackwood made a note of these students, and was
definitely going to be deducting points from the papers of those involved.
Bianca sat by with a smile painted across her face.  While perhaps not as
thorough as Daphne's report, Stacy Brown' was definitely a fine piece. 
Stacy was two and half minutes through her report, when the classroom door
suddenly swung open with a brutish shove.  All heads in the room abruptly
turned, and once downed students suddenly jerked upright in their chairs
towards the sight as G-Spots as he proudly swaggered into the classroom. 
His cocky smirk was lining his mouth as though he'd been twenty minutes
early as opposed to more than twenty minutes late.
   "Whaddup nigga!" called one of the boys, the taller fellow named Khalil.
   "Shhh!" hissed Blackwood again, however her warnings seemed to instantly
lose their weight with the entrance of the young burly negro.
   Stacy merely sat her report down on the face of the podium and crossed
her arms.  She chose to say nothing, and instead allowed her eyes to shoot
daggers at Gerald.
   "Sorry I'm late...car trouble."
   "Dis nigga..." came the shorter boy named Devon.  "Was the trouble
blonde or red-headed ma nigga?"
   "Both son" chuckled Gerald.
   "Quiet you three!" shot Bianca.  "Mr.Styles, would you kindly take your
seat, Ms.  Brown is in the middle of her presentation?"
   Gerald simply rolled his eyes and smiled to himself.  Inside Bianca
churned with a silent anger.  It simply astonished her how easily Gerald
got under her skin.  The smallest insulting gesture from him never failed
at taking her to her boiling point.  While he never came out and said it,
his rolling eyes may have well been screaming fuck you, bitch.  Bianca's
husband Jeb had assured her that, as a teacher, students like Gerald Styles
would come and go.
   "In a couple months he'll be out of school and out of your hair" Jeb had
assured her one night while lying in bed.
   She'd hoped Jeb was right, despite the fact the boy's grades - while
perhaps not terrible - left much to be desired.  Bianca had spent a number
of sleepless nights, spent hours pondering ways to get through to the boy.
Then spent a great deal more time imagining new and creative ways to do him
physical harm upon finding no amicable methods of reaching a truce from
then until the end of the school year.  Gerald eventually found a seat, one
empty desk closer to his boys, and Stacy continued with her report after
clearing her throat.
   The remaining two minutes of the young black girl's presentation went
uninterrupted, and the class gave their standard half-hearted hail of
applause after she came to her conclusion.
   "That was really good Stace", said Daphne.
   "Thanks girl", replied Stacy with a smile.
   Gerald and his three friends had actually managed to keep their side
conversations to a dull whisper and only slightly irksome grunts and
chuckles throughout most of her piece.  Bianca sighed, and here I thought
I'd get away with him simply not showing up.  She knew it was a pipe dream,
but in her mind hope only killed upon it being relinquished.  Bianca went
down her list again.  There were less than a handful of students left to
present, with the final report belonging to Kitty Summers.  Bianca had
noticed early on that the young blond hadn't yet shown up to class that
day. Indeed, neither the Summers girl nor her friend Patricia had made an
appearance yet.
   Where are those girls, thought Bianca.  A less than curious thing to
Blackwood despite her wonder.  The young and astonishingly beautiful blond
girl, along with her small host of cheerleader friends, had been missing an
increasing number of school days over the last few weeks.  That, and the
fact their behavior had become more and more unsavory, even by young
teenage girl's standards.  Initially Blackwood had equated it to Kitty and
her friends simply reaching a rebellious stage of their youth, their
hormones impelling them to make a little havoc during their senior year.
   When faculty members would converse in the break room about their
disapproval of the girls and their choice of `new company', Bianca would
politely agree, but - to be fair - make a point to ask the elder teachers
how they behaved when they were at that age.  Some fellow teachers would
scoff, others would negate with "buts", citing seedy hearsay and secondhand
rumor about the `simply detestable' goings on at pool parties, football
games and even on school grounds.  Others would begrudgingly choose to drop
the matter, and go back to reading the day's newspaper.
   Bianca fought to give the students an equal voice and fair
representation in matters, despite the fact that even she had noticed the
dramatic change in the girl's behavior.  While by no means a pushover (sans
Gerald) Bianca Blackwood did pride herself on giving students an equal
opportunity to defend their stance, whatever it may be.  When Kitty Summers
and her tall and very curvaceous friend Patricia - Patty to her friends -
walked through the door however, Bianca could almost smell the mischief on
them.  Kitty and Patty attempted to casually - though quietly - tiptoe into
the room.  Patty was wiping at something on the cleavage of her ample
bosom, which was tucked inside an entirely too small shirt.  Meanwhile
Kitty was subtlety wiping away the phantom dregs of...something...from the
left corner of her lip.
   "Ah, Kitty, Patricia, so nice of you ladies to finally join us", Bianca
said with a slight bite held in her voice.  Students knew when Mrs. 
Blackwood was genuinely pissed when she got to using first names.  "And may
I ask where you two have been?"
   "Umm-"both girls said in unison while looking to each other for a signal
in a mutual wide eyed surprise.  "Car trouble..." Kitty eventually said,
more in the form of a question than an actual statement.
   "Yeah, car trouble" Patty then chimed in.
   Bianca sighed.  If it weren't for the fact that Kitty Summers was the
daughter of Bianca's dear friend Jenny Summers, she would have likely
ripped her apart in front of the class right then and there.  Instead she
merely shook her head.
   "Car trouble...of course, there seems to be a wave of that going around
just lately.  Coincidentally on the day that reports are due..."
   The two girls merely gave coy little smiles and simple shrugs, which -
as noted by Bianca - was returned with a cocky smirk from the mouth of
Gerald and his homies.
   "Just take your seats you two", Bianca said dismissively.
   Bianca adjusted her glasses and looked back down to the presentation
list.  And her heart sank as her eyes settled on the name.
   "Mr.  Gerald Styles" said the buxom blond, bearly holding back the groan
that sat atop her throat.
   That same cocky grin, added with a clamor of instigative murmurs from
his three cronies.
   "Yeeah boi."
   "You got that shit cuh!?"
   "Eh yo, make that shit fast nigga."
   "Before you step up to the podium Mr.  Styles, I just want to know if
your paper is going to sound anything like the previous three from Khalil,
D'shawn or Devon.
   "What, these three dumb asses?  Hell naw!" said Gerald
   "Eh fuck you nigga!" said Devon.
   "Devon!  Watch your language!" barked Bianca.  "And may I trust you in
assuming your piece isn't going to be offense or disruptive to the class in
any way?"
   "Naw, I really put work inta this one, so's folks won't be gettin all
butt hurt about the truth.  It'z mo thought provokin dan anythan..."
   Bianca's nose scrunched and her eyes narrowed slightly upon hearing the
boy.  Their butchering of the English language grated on her ear drums. 
She didn't have the strength or patience to break down all the flaws in his
sentence, let alone the time.  So Blackwood simply signaled him to approach
the front of the class with a flat wave of her hand.
   "Very well then, the stage is your Mr.  Styles".
   With that, Gerald lazily pulled out a small rather hard used looking
stack of papers.  It amazed Bianca that the boy could even identify the
mangled pages as anything besides tarnished pieces of trash.  Gerald
approached the podium, and Blackwood noticed then that almost immediately
all eyes on the class were alert and focused on him.  Even the once
sleeping students had come alive and were sitting upright to hear Gerald's
report.  I can't believe it, thought Bianca.  Bianca truly hated to admit
it, but the class really did follow the young negro.  Even if they didn't
agree with his views, they traced his every word and gesture.
   "Mornin ya'll" said Gerald in a confident boom after clearing his voice.
"Ma report" he began, sifting to the presumed first page of his essay,
"isn't gonna be on just one book or film we've covered this semester."
   "What?" came a few murmurs from the class.
   Mrs.  Blackwood herself was slightly taken aback by the declaration.
   "Ma report is gonna cover da broad strokes of each work we've looked at,
an then correlate how all of them are speaking directly to two specific
groups in America.  Namely, the African-American man and his counterpart
the white American woman."
   The response from the class was a strange one.  It wasn't just a
collective gasp, it wasn't just the sound of creaking desks as a cluster of
bodies suddenly leaned forward in their chairs.  It wasn't just the giddy
slew of giggles that came from Kitty, Patty and Miko.  It wasn't even the
seemingly outraged fluster that squeaked from Stacy Brown.  It was a
distorted and randomly meshed grouping of all those things, added with the
more than peculiar silence of one Bianca Blackwood.  Blackwood did not
protest, she didn't immediately tell the boy to leave the room, nor did she
fail him on the spot.  She simply sat there in her home brought chair, her
eyes wide open in a manner to match the O of shock that had been instantly
slapped onto her face.  It was a look carrying equal parts shock, awe,
offense and an ineffable quality of curiosity at what was going to happen
next.
   "Oh...shit..." cursed Mrs.  Blackwood under her breath, not even taking
notice to the fact she too had leaned forward in her chair.
   ...
   (Three days before Gerald's presentation)
   "Come on baby, harder!" cooed Bianca Blackwood in the dark of her
bedroom.
   "Agh, agh, agh!" puffed Jeb in response as he did his best to comply
with his wife's plea.
   Bianca was on all fours, naked and bent over in front of her husband. 
Behind her an equally naked Jeb pumped into her with everything he had,
faint fleshy claps marking his efforts.  Jeb's body was slick with a layer
of sweat from fucking Bianca from behind.  Bianca's curved naked form
meanwhile hadn't even shown the slightest signs of fatigue.  She held her
position firm and kept her back arched to give her lover entry.
   "Harder!" Bianca said, this time hinting more towards a demand than a
request.  She so very much wanted to be fucked, pounded by a hard cock. 
Staving off sex for weeks on in had that effect on her.
   "Agh, eh, Ye-Agh!" replied Jeb as he grabbed his wife's lovely hips
firmly and pulled her back onto his erect penis.
   At maximum length Jeb's cock was about six and half inches.  More than
half of his manhood however was blocked entry into his wife's sweet pink
gash, as the meat of her large and extremely round buttocks cushioned most
of his blows.  To Jeb it felt amazing.  Even after bearing two children,
Bianca's body hadn't become any less robust or toned than it had when
they'd first started dating.  While he'd originally held a secret distaste
for the prominent growth in his beloved BB's hind quarters, Jeb had to
admit to himself now - silently - that the soft abundant mass of that made
up his wife's ass felt simply divine.  Of course he'd never say anything on
the matter out loud.  No sir, the topic of his wife's posterior was all but
forbidden.  He'd learned to be a sure fire method to kill her good mood,
and as far as Bianca knew, his perceptions on her bottom were that of it
being by all accounts totally normal.  It was anything but of course (no
pun intended), but they'd comforted themselves in the safety of the lie. 
Jeb had gotten used to telling his gorgeous wife she was as such, and
Bianca never got tired of hearing as such from her husband.  In the end Jeb
decided it would be best to keep Bianca's bountiful bottom as something
akin to a `silent' guilty pleasure.  One he'd never speak of aloud or
acknowledge outwardly.
   "Ugh my god!" Blurted Jeb as he thrusted his hips forward into her
expose opening.
   And if her glorious bubble butt wasn't a national treasure in itself,
her pussy was just as tight as the first time he'd ever been inside it.
   "I...I'm, I'm gonna" Jeb bellowed, not able to get his words to string
together in proper order before they trailed off into an uncontrollable
grunt of release.
   Bianca turned her head towards Jeb to see him spasm behind her.  She
felt his cock abruptly harden, surge with the pumping semen, and then
gradually soften between her ass cheeks.  Within moments Jeb had collapsed
onto her, his penis falling limply out of her, and he buried his head into
the back of her blonde hair.  Their love making had lasted a grand total of
ten minutes, with two positions in total being executed.  Bianca sighed,
and lifted herself up from the remains of her husband.  Bianca rose from
the bed and threw on her night robe before heading off to the bathroom. 
Jeb meanwhile splayed himself backwards onto their large sized bed, taking
deep breaths and wiping at the beads of sweat that had formed on his face
and forehead.
   "That was..." he began in between labored breaths "simply incredible..."
said Jeb in a more than satisfied exhalation.
   Well...that makes one of us, thought Bianca bitterly.  In all their
years of marriage, this had to have been the first time Bianca had ever
walked away from her bed after having sex with her husband in utter
disappointment.  Granted they had both been tired from their respective
days and work, routine and the mutual grind of raising their two children,
but that had never put a damper on their sex life before.  What's going on,
she thought.  They'd made the mutual decision to stave off one another for
several weeks before that night.  The idea was rooted in allowing the
anticipation to build - anywhere from a few days to a few weeks - so as to
enhance the experience when they finally did getting around to it.  Bianca
had come across the idea in a women's magazine she had read some months
back, and had convinced Jeb to engage in the little experiment as well, as
one of the rules consisted of `no masturbation'.
   They'd done it like that several times before, and each time the sex had
been simply amazing.  Bianca never had any notable complaints about Jeb's
skills, stamina or...or his penis size, she forced herself to complete
mentally.
   But that night's performance, along with at least two others recently,
had just been so... woefully beneath her expectations.  So thoroughly
bland, that she could hardly believe they had occurred.
   Bianca doused her face with cold water and looked at herself in the
mirror.  Maybe it's me, she thought.  This self-conscious nonsense with me
and my butt is making me too insecure.  To Bianca, Jeb had always been a
perfectly adequate lover.  He was in excellent shape for a man nearing his
thirties, and it wasn't a matter of her losing attraction to him.  Not had
their marriage come under any sort of recent strain or fire in the form of
conflict within the last few months.  She didn't know if it was work, her
own stressed mental state with her students, grading reports, or something
yet unaccounted for.  All she knew was... sex for her as of late, had taken
a sudden and very much frustrating nosedive.
   "Not to use an old cliché, but was it good for you dear?" said Jeb to
his beautiful wife in the next room with a chuckle.
   Bianca did not respond, being too lost in thought.  No...not thought,
more like lost in memory.  Bianca thought back, in search of the last time
she'd truly felt horny and been thoroughly pleased.  The last time Bianca
had been truly aroused -- wet to the point of dripping in fact -- had been
more than a month ago.  The memory shoved its way from the back of her
brain to fore, for must have been the eighth time that week.  The image of
Bianca, positioned on her hands and knees around her girlfriends Jenny
Summers, Samantha Spitzmen, Anya White and Ivana Swallows.  The image of
Bianca, her stark blue eyes gazing up for approval at the grinning face of
a muscular young man, a student at the very school she taught no less.  The
image of Bianca's lips pursed in a tight o while sucking on the head of his
enormous cock.  The image of Bianca, gagging on six inches of a veiny
twelve inch rod of black flesh that made Jeb's penis look several layers
below inadequate in both length and girth.  And she remembered the feeling
of the young man's powerful hands as they clasped onto her one of her ass
cheeks.  Bianca could feel her insides quake with the very memory of it. 
Deep down Bianca knew what was bothering her, what was making her so
frustrated, but she wouldn't allow herself to admit it.
   Jeb obviously didn't feel like the sex was bad, which made Bianca's
guilt that much worse.  On the contrary, the triumphant lion's grin Jeb was
giving her as she exited the bathroom and made her way back to the bed
implied he was positively thrilled with the session.
   "So?" Jeb asked.
   "What?" Replied Bianca.
   "Was it good?"
   "Oh...yes, yes of course..." she lied.
   "Ahhh, that was a brilliant idea you had.  Holding ourselves off from
sex for a few weeks at a time." Jeb threw himself back onto the pillow of
the bed, arms outstretched.
   Bianca meanwhile silently slipped herself in between the sheets.
   "You're amazing when you're horny" Jeb complimented.  "I love this new
aggressive side to you.  Bossy definitely suits you in bed."
   Still, Bianca said nothing.
   "And that thing you do with your hips...my god, where'd you learn how to
do that?  It makes your ass just--"
   "Ok Jeb, thank you!" Shot Bianca, an obvious exasperation in her tone.
   "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.
   "N-Nothing, you just...you know how I feel about people talking about my
butt.  It makes me uncomfortable is all."
   It was a true statement..`sort of'.  It `could' have passed as true
bother.  Granted it wasn't really at the fore of her present worries, but
Bianca couldn't possibly tell Jeb what was truly on her mind.  Not a chance
in hell she'd confess that.
   Jeb gave a quick chuckle before kissing her softly on the cheek.
   "We'll have none of that, not after that kind of sex."
   It was blunt, but the look on Bianca's face couldn't hold any anger. 
Jeb was truly a sweet man.  If any part of her was evenly remotely tempted
to out and tell the truth, Bianca killed it when she smiled back at her
husband.  In the end she decided to leave the matter at that, and kissed
Jeb back before laying her head down to rest.  It still bothered her
greatly that his greatest efforts had barely gotten her moist.  And it
bothered her even more how wet the current collage of erotic images
parading around her brain had made her in the span of a few moments.  She
had to fight the urge to slide her fingers into herself.  It was just a
one-time experience, she thought, trying to counsel herself back to logic
and therefore lull herself to sleep.  Just a stupid one time experiment to
see what all Jenny's boasting was about.  That's all.
   Bianca repeated this to herself many times.  But even as Jeb curled up
next to her, the thought of her previous venture - and the effect it had
had on her - persisted.  And at some point when Bianca finally managed to
fall into a thoughtful slumber, she actually allowed herself to confess --
in a fleeting moment of acceptance -- ...that black cock really was huge
though...
   ...
   "Well Mr.  Styles..." she said in a tone no louder than a breath, a
smoldering anger sitting atop her words like froth.  "You've done it..."
   Bianca Blackwood was sitting in her rolling chair on the proper end of
her desk.  The blackboard wall was directly behind her as a dark gray
rectangular mess of only scarcely visible markings from passed lessons. 
She was sitting upright, with both of her hands crossed neatly over one
another underneath her more than ample bosoms.  Her tense body language and
low vocal pitch betrayed her attempts to appear calm and collected before
her disruptive pupil, Gerald "G-Spotz" Styles, who sat on the opposite end
of the desk.  He was slouched lazily in the brown chair Blackwood had
personally brought from her home.  Her shoulders were stiff, and the smile
painted on her face didn't even come close to reaching her eyes, which were
hurling every sharp object and foul curse word imaginable at the young
negro for the presentation he'd given in class that day.  "Disruptive"
didn't even count as an juvenile representation of what he'd done.
   The classroom was barren aside from the pair of them, the rows of desks
in the room having been hastily abandoned within seconds of Blackwood's
dismissal of the class...five minutes early.  She'd given Styles a stern
command beforehand to remain behind for a serious discussion as the
students filed out of the room at near breakneck speed.  They'd seen Mrs.
Blackwood cross plenty of times.  Cross they could deal with.  Hell, most
of the students aimed to make her cross before settling in their chairs
each day, if only because the expression made her look that much sexier. 
Today however was something else entirely.  They had never seen such a look
of concentrated hatred gathered on the beautiful blond teacher's face as
before.
   "Oh shit" murmured an unidentified student amongst the exiting
multitude. "Gerald overdid it this time."
   "Yeah, he's gonna get it this time" came another voice in response.
   They most definitely didn't wish to stick around to see her wrath
unleashed upon the boy.  Even G-Spotz boys, D'Shawn, Khalil and Devon wore
a look of worry on their brows for their friend upon seeing the beet red
complexion and narrowed eyes of the buxom teacher.  The classroom hadn't
tested her anger upon her release of the class, or the look of sheer
contempt she'd dawned in the wake of Styles completing his presentation. 
All the while, Gerald's face remained defiant and (suffice it to say)
looking rather pleased with his performance, which only assured his
classmates that his punishment would be nothing short of brutal.
   Blackwood had spent those first five minutes, and the few following the
final tolling of the school bell, just staring at the boy.  No, glaring at
him, unblinkingly from her desk with her stark ocean blue eyes.  She'd said
nothing during the interim, refusing to utter a word.  And it gave her a
silent feeling of minor satisfaction when she saw the burly young man
actually begin to shift uncomfortably in his seat from her unwavering gaze.
Tha fuck is this bitch on, he thought.  Maybe she serious this time.  The
silence would have been maddening for Styles if hadn't been for the steady
click, click, click sounds coming from the miniature Newton's cradle model
which sat atop Blackwood's broad desk.  Two of five round black balls held
up to the structure on strings were swaying back and forth in wide arcs,
colliding with the single remaining ball in the middle.  The transfer of
kinetic energy then caused the two balls on the opposite side to then swing
backwards and then forwards to continue the process in an endless
reciprocity.
   "Just when I thought you weren't capable of being any more offensive..."
Blackwood continued, her face visibly hot with anger.  "Just when I thought
you simply didn't have it in you to bring any more disruption, chaos or
propagandist filth into this classroom, you present this..."
   The this that Blackwood was referring to was the jumbled assimilation of
tarnished pages that made up Gerald's semester report.  Nine some odd hand
written pieces of mishandled paper which had singlehandedly sent Bianca
Blackwood's sixth period Literature class into frenzy.  A small riot
flavored with offense, shock, awe, and scattered points of uncontrollable
laughter.  So much in fact, that Blackwood had decided to simply allow the
classroom to leave early for the day, as she knew there was no hope in hell
or heaven that she'd be able to calm them down.  Blackwood slapped the
pages onto her desk with an audible clap, her hand slamming atop the mass
with a dull thwack sound.
   Upon assessing Blackwood's anger - which could no longer remain hidden
behind a calm veneer - Styles smirked arrogantly.
   "Wha'can I say?  I stay shockin folks..."
   "This is just another joke to you isn't it?  Just another punch line in
the little stand up act of Gerald Styles.  Do you realize this -" Blackwood
tapped on the papers for emphases, "is more enough to get you expelled from
this school.  Expelled from the only school in the county."
   "How you figure?" said Styles in the tone of a dare.
   "How do I figure!?" the beautiful blond said in near disbelief.  Is he
serious, she thought.  "It slanders our school, mocks its educators, mars
the good name of our county, makes a mockery of our collective moral views,
and succeeds at offending not just our entire Caucasian female population
of Coxville, but basically advertises white women in general as though
they're prostitutes."
   Gerald would slightly nod his head with each point, as though he were
marking off a checklist in his mind.
   "And that's just your preface and opening!"
   "Hey, it is wha'it is..." Styles replied plainly.
   "And your so-called commentary from local students and faculty are
nothing short of lies.  There's no way any of our female students would say
the things you've quoted them as saying, I don't care how misguided they
say your generation is."
   Despite how sick it made Blackwood to read aloud, she quoted back some
of the - simply outrageous - comments that Styles had supposedly gathered
in research for his atrocious piece.  There were many, a simply staggering
amount on the actual paper, and consisted of wild personal notes of,
   Oh yeah, black dick is the only kind of dick that matters as quoted by
Patty P
   I have to admit, I was skeptical and a bit scared at first, but once I
got my first taste of nigger cock, I was hooked from that day forward. 
Stated one Kitty Kat.  Many of the female commentators chose only scantly
concealing pseudonyms.
   A pair of girl's naming themselves simply P&M gave corresponding
statements.
   Nigger cock is soooo bomb, stated P.  Its big, its strong, its long, and
it can go and go for hours.  Me and M got our first one together, and oh my
god it was good!
   Yeah, I couldn't even bring myself to look at limp little white dicks
anymore after that, added M.  It was a total eye opener for us.
   Among other things, P added, and somehow Blackwood could imagine both
the mysterious girls giggling in unison at their own joke.
   I've been telling all my girlfriends since then to drop the losers
they're with and grab some real cock, some black cock, immediately
commented one girl merely calling herself S.  None of us have any regrets.
   And, I'd recommend every white woman be with a black stud.  As a white
woman, your sex life, social standing and mental well-being will be worlds
better.
   "There's no way any woman in Coxville would say such things" said
Blackwood when she couldn't conceivably force herself to continue.  "These
are obviously lies you've written down with fact names to further your
preposterous theories".  She knew what she said wasn't entirely true, but
she wouldn't dare let Gerald think she thought otherwise.
   "Hey, word is bond that's what those bitches said.  You can ask em'
yoself."
   "Language, and I most certainly would...if they'd been bold enough to
give their real names.  I also find the aliases these young ladies have all
used to be very convenient in adding to your paper."
   "Yo, dem chicks want tha black dick.  Figured dey parents'd get all
pissed if word came back dey was tellin folks what up.  So dey chose
anonymity to protect deyselves.  Didn't stop em' from tellin er'body how
good the truth is dou."
   Blackwood looked down the list again, she had to otherwise she'd have
likely thrown the nearby blackboard eraser at the youth for his crass
mocking and hideous pronunciation of words.  Those had been only a few
selections from the feedback.  The list just went on and on with these
statements.  All of them carrying many of the same words of approval and
with a tone and zeal of near fanaticism.  Big black cock, huge, enormous,
unreal, powerful, gigantic, nigger dick, humongous, pounded, perfect.
   The words made Bianca stir in her own seat.  These so-called quotes had
to have been made up, she thought.  Gerald obviously created the comments
to further his own outrageous beliefs.  Though...Bianca had to interject to
herself, some of the comments did seem rather...familiar she thought.  The
speech and manner of the comments caused faces to appear in Bianca's mind
with familiarity.  Students and perhaps one or two teachers at the school
came to mind.  Furthermore Blackwood did recall seeing a notable degree
of...glee on the faces of Kitty Summers and her two cohorts Miko and Patty
while Gerald read off the comments.  And to a much more secretive degree,
she had the account of her own encounter with this big black cock that the
comments spoke of.  Oh please, Bianca tried to rebuke herself.  Sure, that
West boy was rather large...but.  She trailed off her line of thought for a
moment, recalled how firmly Samson West's rather large member was crammed
into her mouth.  How it pulsed heavily and grew hot on her tongue and in
the tightly compressed corners of her mouth.  And how - upon grabbing a
firm handful of one of her ass cheeks - he'd become incredibly stiff, and
gagged her with the influx of inches.
   Big, black, huge, enormous, unreal, powerful, nigger dick.  The words
danced mockingly before her eyes on the paper, and subtlety she felt
portions of her body actually begin to respond to the scandalous dribble.
   Ridiculous, she forced herself to conclude.  Admittedly that West boy
was huge...but he doesn't account for the entire population.  Bianca
Blackwood wasn't a fool.  She knew better than to believe such nonsense
based on one coinciding encounter.  She knew such that sort of thinking was
how those idiotic urban legends came into.  One account gets turned into a
dozen, and replicates until it takes on the vague outline of proof.  And he
certainly doesn't validate the rest of this racist garbage.
   "You cain't get mad at me for tellin it like it is Mrs.  Blackwood."
Gerald protested.  "I did ma research, used the material we'd been given,
and I followed tha guidelines you gave us to the letter.  Jus becuz I
compounded mo' to the overall piece don't make it slanderous."
   Bianca glanced over the papers again, forcing herself to sift passed the
collected female commentary.  She would hear none of it, wouldn't allow
herself to give the boy a half a centimeter of credence on the matter.
   "You can't possibly look at what you've given me and call it good work",
Blackwood replied.  "
   "No..." Gerald said bluntly.  And just as Bianca had given a sigh
showing a hint of hope that they'd reach an understanding, he continued
with, "witout sounding like I'm dick stroking ma'self, I think its great
work."
   Bianca's jaw literally dropped in disbelief.
   "I followed all yo rules and guideless" he repeated, "went above an
beyond backin up ma points wit fieldwork, and managed include all tha
material we've gone over dis year.  I been putting work in on dat mu'phucka
for weeks."
   "What your language Gerald" Bianca said dismissively.
   "I bet Daphne is already wrote down in yo grade book havin a "A" for her
little funky ass report she did on that nigga Mark Twain" Gerald continued,
ignoring Blackwood's warning.
   By now Gerald had sat upright in the chair, and was looking Blackwood
straight in the eyes.
   "Ms.  Rosenwood's report didn't make it a mission to insult every white
person in the country."
   "Nah, just black folks, which is obviously cool wit you."
   "What?" Bianca blurted in a tone of almost disbelief.  "Are you..."
Bianca began, taken aback by the insinuation.  "Are you implying my reasons
for failing this mockery of a report is racially motivated?"
   "It ain't dou?" replied Gerald in a sarcastic pitch of feigned surprise.
"A little upper middle class white girl does a report on a old racist white
man, praises his racist works and gives him accolades fo basically just
writing the word `Nigger' over an over again enough times to make a book,
A+."
   Bianca looked at him cautiously.  Despite her anger and frustration at
the boy, she wanted to hear where he was going with this.
   "But when a nigga hits the grindstone and writes about natural truths
within American society, talks about tha real shit that no'body wanna look
at head on, he gets a F and has to stay after class to get bitched at an
shit!"
   With that Gerald actually rose to his feet in protest, and slammed both
his hands down hard on Blackwood's desk.
   I'm bitching at him, Bianca silently fumed.  If she had an inner view of
her mind, it likely would have been a furnace.
   "Th-that's not even remotely true" she replied, still seated in her
chair.
   To her surprise, that was all she was able to say in response to Styles.
She'd have sworn she'd had more, but when the time came to retort, her mind
simply went blank.  For some reason, her heart began to beat faster in her
chest.  That adrenaline surge from conflict had spiked in her.  More and
more the words from the paper attracted her attention.  Attracted her
attention...almost as much as the huge bulge she noticed was bundled in the
front of Gerald's pants.  She didn't have a decent view of it before when
he was sitting down, but now that he was standing up and right in of front
of her, she had a full frontal image of it.
   From where she was sitting, the lengthy and unusually thick piece of
hidden meat actually coiled slightly inside his jeans, strained by the
confinements of his underwear.  The outline looked like some freakishly
thick king sized bratwurst sausage that had been cooked to near the point
of bursting.
   Oh my god, she thought.  Her previous look of caged anger melted almost
instantly in an O of shock at the mere suggestion of the thing.  She had to
actually shake her head slightly to bring herself back into sorts.
   "Your many slights and offenses to my classroom aside" she said,
regaining her momentum, "and you dare accuse me of being racist?!"
   "Wouldn't be nottin new.  You're just another member of this oppressive
ass system", he grunted.
   You arrogant little bastard, she thought to herself.  Bianca could feel
her teeth clenching together hard enough that it actually hurt.
   "You ain't got yours yet, so you're still trippin.  Tryin to keep niggas
down."
   Bianca didn't quite know what the young negro meant by "gotten yours",
but the look in his eyes hinted towards something that caught her off
guard. She forced herself to take several calming breaths, and then made
herself lean back in her seat.  No, this is what he wants, Bianca thought.
He wants to work your nerves and get you angry.  Don't play his game.  She
straightened herself up, forcing herself not to look down at Gerald's
humungous member and again folded her hands over one another on the top of
the desk.
   "Mr.  Styles..." she began.  Her sudden change in mood and body language
caused Gerald to shift in surprise.  "Your paper - offensive and fictional
as it may have been - was...compelling, I'll give you that."
   The click, click, click of the Newton cradle filled the space of
silence.
   "I understand you've put a lot time and energy into creating it, and I
truly do appreciate your efforts to have something to present to the
class."
   Now Gerald's face had been slapped with its own O of shock.
   "I just find it tragically unfortunate..."
   Styles arched an eyebrow at this.
   "Tragically unfortunate that all that drive, all that passion, goes
squandered on simply getting a rise out of me and your classmates.  It just
bothers me that you'd misuse your abilities in this way."
   Gerald actually took a step back from Blackwood's desk, as if he were
trying to confirm that he were trying to discern whether or not he was
talking to the real Bianca Blackwood, and not some lookalike imposter.
   "Despite the company you keep, you have proven yourself time and time
again to be a very well read and highly intelligent young man.  Not just
that, you've proven yourself to hold some notable ability to gain the
attention of the class.  That's the trademark of a natural born leader. 
And regardless of our past disagreements and..."
   She recalled the numerous times Gerald and his clowns hooted and
hollered at her whenever she turned her back to class.  The names they'd
called her, starting from the very first day of the school year.
   "Got Dam!!" said Devon.
   "Dat ass fat as a mu'phuckin!" chided Khalil.
   "Shit nigga, dats a fatty right der son!" chuckled D'shawn.
   And the finishing blow, the remark that had made Bianca Blackwood
thoroughly self-conscious about ever turning her back to any sort of crowd,
came from G-Spotz's christening her,
   "Mrs.Blackwood huh?  Big Booty Blackwood mo like it.  3B up in this
mu'phucka"
   "Regardless of our past...moments of unpleasantness, I'm honored to have
had you in my class this past year."
   If Bianca could have taken a picture, she would have in order to
commemorate the look of near shock that had bloomed over Gerald's strong
black features.
   "I just think it's a shame that your need for attention has trumped your
desire to perform better in my class."
   Bianca's tone had waned into a soft, soothing and shockingly sympathetic
tambour.  It was the same tone of voice she'd use on her own children when
lulling them to sleep or reasoning with them to brush their teeth and go to
bed.
   "I see all that potential, all that raw intellect and drive to be
acknowledged by others, and it truly disappoints me to see it being
squandered on such juvenile pursuits..."
   By now Gerald's expression looked as though he'd been slapped.
   "I see big things in your future Mr.  Styles" as she ended her spiel. 
"I simply don't want all that potential to be spoiled on trying to impress
your peers, or simply giving me a hard time."
   Bianca's eyes widened to show their mesmerizing blue tint.  "As your
teacher I certainly don't want that, but it's up to you to make that hope a
reality...not for your friends, and certainly not for me, but for your own
sake."
   Bianca once stiff mouth melted into a warm and inviting smile.  If she
couldn't best the boy in outright combat, she would win him over with a
show of empathy and a desire for peace.  She'd tried such tact once or
twice before to lesser success, but in her eyes a third attempt couldn't
hurt.
   For several moments Bianca Blackwood and Gerald Styles just stared at
one another.  His deep brown eyes had widened in a way that Blackwood had
never seen before.  His facial muscles relaxed, fell into an unknowable
look that she'd hoped had been genuine contemplation and understanding at
her words.
   "Mrs.  B..." Gerald said calmly, almost empathetically.
   By goodness, I did it, she thought.  I actually got through to him.
   "Yes Mr.  Styles..." Bianca said, doing her best to hide her excitement
at what would have been the single biggest breakthrough she'd ever made
with a troublesome student.
   "I..." he began.  "I..."
   "Yes..." she said again, her tone trying to help him along to saying
what she was certain would be "I'm sorry Mrs.  Blackwood.
   "I just gotta know...what tha FUCK kinda `after school special' bullshit
was THAT son!"
   Gerald's strong features instantly drew back into his normal
antagonizing smile, and were punctuated by his cruel mocking hail of
laughter.
   "3B tryin to bust a "Dangerous Minds" in this bitch, ha-ha-ha!" said
Gerald, throwing his head back and actually pointing a mocking finger at
the busty blond as she sat wide eyed with offense and embarrassment in her
seat.  The embarrassment was simply too much for her.  That was the last
straw.
   "Young man!" she then yelled, regaining the tempo of her argument and
standing up from her chair to face down the cackling boy.  "You are
completely out of order!"
   "Ha-ha", Gerald continued laughing hardily, "Naw nigga, YOU are outta
pocket if you really thought THAT sugary sweet shit was gonna get me to
stamp out ma own work!"
   "Your work?!" Bianca rebuked.  "What you've given me is not, I repeat,
NOT work!  Its nine pages of `mockumentary' porn that you've slapped
together at the last minute with the sole purpose of pissing me off!  And -
Gerald - I must say, it is working!"
   Bianca glared at him with unfettered hatred.
   "Well GOOD" Gerald responded, "Den I should get an A for giving yo stiff
ass a glimpse of sex den.  You OBVIOUSLY ain't gettin fucked right if you
so ass hurt about ma shit!"
   That was a low blow for Bianca.  Such a low and disgusting thing to say,
and to an elder and a teacher no less!  Styles would of course have no way
of knowing, but his words actually stung Bianca with a bitter dose of
truth. Bianca's sex life - unbeknownst to him - had taken a serious plunge
as of late.
   "You...rude ignorant little shit!" she hollered at him, the last
fraction of her patience incinerating with anger.
   "Hey, don't be mad at me cuz you cain't get a nigga to smash that shit
out right!"
   "Fuck you!  You're a crude, arrogant, racist and repulsive bastard!" she
said, not even really thinking about her words more than simply trying to
verbally fight back.  Bianca was so angry she didn't even care that she'd
lowered herself to cussing.  They were both in each other's faces now, and
Bianca was glaring at him with a pointed index finger.
   "Not only am I giving you an F on this project, but I'm going to see it
personally that you be expelled from this school, immediately!"
   Her other arm was down at her side, the hand balled into a tight white
fist.  Her blood was pumping furiously now, and her face was flushed with
rage.  "Try spreading more lies and garbage about your huge..." she
suddenly stopped.
   "Huge what" Gerald said, catching her off guard and predicting what she
was about to say.  "Go on, say it" he egged on, dared her to finish as one
of his hands undid the zipper of his pants.  She heard to sound of the
front of his pants coming undone, and - despite every logical bone and
sense in her telling her not to - she looked down at the sound's source.
   The anger on Bianca's Blackwood's face fell away in the split second it
took for her to identify what Gerald had done, what had flopped out of the
front of Gerald's pants and was now being held in one of his hands.  Now,
Gerald Style's hands were big by most boy's comparison.  This fact only
drove home the incredible truth that in his hand, Gerald's deep brown cock
was almost fatter than his grip.  His brown veiny member rested in a long
and incredibly thick tubular mass of - by Bianca's downward view - an easy
ten inches.
   "Oh my!" Blackwood then belted as her gaze settled and then marveled at
the bare sight of it.
   "Yeah..." chuckled Gerald, his voice carrying nothing short of a tambour
of triumph.  That look like a lie you, bitch?"
   My god, Bianca then thought to herself in a mental gasp.  That's the
hugest cock I've ever seen.
   "Yeah, told yo ass I wudn't lyin." Gerald then said, and Bianca was
taken aback upon the realization she'd just voiced her thoughts out loud.
"You ain't got yours yet huh, Mrs.Blackwood?"
   Bianca didn't respond, she simply kept staring at the incredible display
of manhood that Gerald was holding in his hand like a cudgel.  A long and
(to Bianca's silent terror) limp cudgel.  Jesus, if it's that huge when
it's limp, what does it look like when it's hard, she wondered.
   "You want it huh?" said Gerald, his smirk creeping across his lips. 
"Well, hit yo knees and get it then."
   Big, huge, enormous, unreal, powerful, nigger dick, the words on his
report coming back to her mind again in rapid replay.  Bianca Blackwood
recalled Samson West's giant dark dick probing deep into her mouth, and how
good his hand felt as it gripped her big round ass cheeks.  Her heartbeat
kept its rapid momentum, and she felt that same tingle surge in her body.
Only this time she could discern that the tingle was situated between her
legs.  And lo and behold, Bianca Blackwood hadn't even noticed how wet she
was - how wet she'd been during the argument - until she felt herself
descending onto both knees in her black skirt, and staring head on at
Gerald's big black monster cock.
   ...
   Bianca Blackwood didn't have much in way comparisons for black cocks. 
She had only seen her first via DVD, a feature which - admittedly - had
looked astonishing to her as the well-muscled black man in possession of a
simply monstrous member pumped furiously into her good friend Jenny.  But
alas Bianca herself hadn't touched it with her own hands or saw it up close
in person.  Her single physical encounter with the young athlete Samson
West had left her jaw aching from overexertion for the entire day after
that night's book club meeting.  Samson West's cock was huge, in the way
the gorgeous blond would have sworn was one in a million.  Adding the
anonymous dark stud from Jenny's DVD and you'd have two and a million. 
Gerald Style's cock however -- in the best way Blackwood could discern or
describe - wasn't just huge, it was huge and fat!  Three in a million made
for serious discrepancy in her mind.
   Gerlad's pants and underwear dropped, the sound of his golden G belt
buckle hitting the tile floor with a sharp clack as his jeans pooled at his
feet.  Up close it almost scared the curvy bodied blond how massive it was.
A slew of powerful veins trailed in various avenues down a ten inch stretch
deep brown meat that was (by her estimation) only slightly thicker than a
coca cola can.  It dangled strong before her blue eyes, hung heavy and
paired with two gigantic testicles that looked like big brown grapefruits.
God, no wonder he's so arrogant, Bianca thought.  The reproductive organs
of a giant on the stocky frame of boy almost four inches shorter than her.
   Bianca wanted to fight this.  She knew this was totally wrong, and the
hesitation on her face gave Gerald reason to speak.
   "Come on Mrs.  B" teased Gerald.  "You was talkin all dat shit about big
nigga dick just bein a myth.  Now you got one right in fronta you and you
gonna turn chickenshit?"
   Bianca couldn't believe she was in this position.  On her knees in front
of one of her students like some common bimbo.  Her sensible half told her
as such, told her how simply absurd this whole thing was.  She was married
with two children for crying out loud!  But, for some reason her body
refused to move.  Inside she stayed planted in the spot before Gerald,
marveling at the sight.  Her eyes simply would not pull themselves away
from Gerald's big fat cock.  Her knees reacted somewhat when she made an
attempt to pull herself back to her feet, but this act was immediately put
down by Styles' placing one of his large hands firmly on her right
shoulder.
   "Na-uh" he said while holding her in place, "You called ma shit lies. 
Now dat you know it's tha real deal, you gotta put yo mouth where ma meat
is."
   Bianca stared up at him, her blue eyes wide behind her glasses with near
disbelief.  Is this really happening, she thought.  Am I really being
berated and ordered to go down on one of my own students?
   "Wha'sa matter 3B, don't know what ta do wit a real man's dick?"
Gerald's cocky smile reappeared.  That arrogant self-aggrandizing grin that
always made Bianca boil.
   The reaction it had on Mrs.  Blackwood this time however, was a curious
one.  Mrs.  Blackwood's eyes furrowed, but instead of opening her mouth to
chastise or rebuke the insulting young negro, she separated her lips
wide...to allow the huge fat stretch of meat access into her waiting mouth.
Despite all sense shouting otherwise, Bianca couldn't deny how wet the idea
of having something so long and fat in her mouth left her.  Could I even
handle something so huge, she asked herself.  It had been weeks since she'd
found herself at all enthralled at the thought of sex, and an incalculably
longer stint of time since she could recall having an orgasm.  Jeb hadn't
proven himself capable, and quite frankly she was still very much turned on
by the memories of her and her band of sisters taking turns slobbering up
that big nigger cock of Samson's.  If she were going to feel guilty later,
apologetic to her handsome husband, and sorry to her two beautiful
children...then she may as well enjoy herself now.
   Gerald accepted her oral invitation, and with one hand guided his big
brown flesh missile passed the buxom blonde's full pink lips.  Enormous,
powerful, nigger dick.  Memory of the paper's commentary replaying again in
her mind, written previews and rave reviews of what she could hope to
expect.
   Sweet jesus!  Thought Bianca in a start as Gerald's fat cock head probed
and expanded her mouth wide.  If a baby were on steroids I'd say it were an
infant's arm reaching into my mouth.
   Gerald pressed more of himself into her mouth, but his fat knob of a
cockhead having a little trouble gaining entry into her tight gob.
   "Dat's a tight ass mouf on you Mrs.  B" he groaned.  "You gotta open
that jaw wide if you're trying feastin on dis mu'phucka."
   Bianca complied and spread her mouth wider, wide as it could go.  A
pushing of hips got Gerald's head firmly into Bianca sweet mouth, and in
steady juts he began to pump himself lightly in and out of the area he'd
now traversed, starting off slow but picking up gradual speed.  Blackwood's
mouth was tight, wet and remarkably warm on his sensitive circumcised dick
head.  Despite the fact his unnatural girth caused her teeth to graze
lightly along the top and bottom of his manhood, he kept his pace and
allowed Bianca's open maw to swallow as much of him as it could.  Bianca
meanwhile was wishing she'd been gifted with the jaws of a snake, as Gerald
hefty hammer muscled its way deeper and deeper into her mouth, and not long
after that nearer to the back of her throat.
   Goodness, so fat, she thought.  If she were going to last long enough
without breaking her jaw, she knew she would have to work in more
lubricant. The act itself wasn't too hard.  Bianca's mouth had started
salivating the moment Gerald's dick neared her opening.  She used that
collected wetness to lather Gerald's monster cock as it probed in and out
of her, letting the salvia and foamy spit sit on her full lips, basting the
young man's growing meat.  It only took a few passes to get the first four
or five hefty inches slick.  Bianca immediately noticed an easing of the
feat after she did this, as well as (to her silent joy) an increase in
groans emitted from the burly young stud as he dipped in and out of her. 
His masculine coos made her even more eager to please, so Bianca then
started to work her own motion into the blowjob.
   The beautiful blonde then began to bob her head, forwards and backwards
in tight juts.  All the while Bianca recalled the training Jenny had given
her, and laughed a little bit on the inside at how much it had was actually
proving to be effective.  The first time Bianca had had a big black cock in
her mouth, she'd choked and gagged near to death on the influx of inches.
With Gerald's great big bruiser of a dick, she most definitely did not wish
to repeat that mistake.
   "Yeah, dats it Mrs.  B, get at that mu'phucka.  Hit it hard"
   And by his command, Bianca began to suck harder.  Her quick juts were
soon replaced with longer pumps from her head and neck.  A maximum of four
fat inches turned into five, then five to six.  A minute or two later
Bianca was slurping at seven inches of big black cock.  Wet schlop slurp
noises rose in the room as she brazenly added more spit to her motions. 
This thing just keeps getting bigger and bigger in my mouth, but it is
getting much easier now, she thought as Gerald's cock hardened against the
inside of her cheeks.  To Bianca that was a good thing, because there were
a fair share of inches left for her to take in, and Gerald's big cock was
already grazing the back of her throat!  Jeb at his hardest and longest was
six inches, but it looked like Gerald had that and then plenty more left
for her.
   She could taste Gerald's pre cum forming in tiny droplets on the tip of
his dick.  To her they tasted simply divine, and the feeling of her tongue
licking the traces of it out of his urethra made Gerald's toes curl inside
his trainers.  She found herself pondering if his load would taste just as
good when the time came for him to finish.  The big blond had simply
amazing blowjob skills.  Her head motions made her blond hair waft
elegantly around her jaw and shoulders.  He watched as lines of spit began
to slip from the edges of her mouth and down the front of her blouse,
occasional drops coming to rest on her bountiful white cleavage.
   "Yeah, yeah, ohhh fuck yeah" bellowed Gerald with pleasure.
   Bianca started giving out her own noises of approval, as the mass and
warmth of Gerald's cock made her approach an orgasm.  Goodness, am I really
about to come from giving oral, she wondered.  She had heard of such things
happening before, but she'd always classified it as mere exaggerations. 
Her wet pussy lips however were giving rise to it being true however.  She
could feel herself dripping, just like she had with Samson.  The feeling
urged her to slide two fingers in-between her black skirt and slip passed
her pants, venturing onward to her tight wet clit.  She was so horny now.
What on earth has gotten into me, she thought, amazed at her behavior
almost as much as her inability to control it, and still almost as much at
her fascination towards Gerald's cock.
   Bianca continued sucking, and looked up at Gerald to see he was staring
down at her with a confident satisfaction framing his face.  He didn't even
look close to climaxing.  This in turn impelled Bianca to suck on his meat
even harder.  The schlops and slurps became louder, and the pressure from
Bianca's mouth on Gerald's dick sent him into a near trance.
   "Oh my gawd, Mrs.  B" Gerald sighed, tilting his head back as Bianca
tried slipping his monster cock further down her throat.  "You got mean
head games..."
   The compliment would have put a smile on Blackwood's face if it weren't
so full of ebony dick.  Aside from her ass it was probably the only thing
the disruptive youth had ever complimented her on.  She pulled Gerald's
long fat dong out of her mouth and held it firmly with her remaining free
hand.  She clutched it hard and appraised it from a side angle.  It's
amazing, she thought.  It was getting properly wet, but lord was it a
challenge for her.  Bianca noticed not even her longest fingers were able
to connect over the sheer girth of Gerald's cock.
   "You like that Mr.  Styles?" she said in a sultry purr, liking the idea
of causing her pupil such pleasure.  "You like my tight lips wrapped around
your fat nigger cock?" It was like she'd become a different person!  Bianca
personally didn't like such vulgar terms.  Living in the deep south lord
knew she'd heard it plenty of times from both blacks and whites in near
equal measure, and she'd always found it to be a rather repugnant word. 
Granted she never outwardly spoke against either side using it, but that
was only because Bianca wasn't one to make unnecessary conflict when she
could avoid it.  That, Bianca figured, was a business more suited for her
friends Ivana Swallows and Anya White, who seemed to have no problems
whatsoever fighting openly with others, and more often than a little
finding formidable opponents in each other.
   "Oh hell yeah.  Dis is what the fuck I'm talkin bout."
   She took a few more deep dips onto his massive meat, her breasts
jiggling and shaking from quickening and more fervent movements.  Soon the
pleasure became a bit much for Gerald to remain standing, his knees
actually beginning to buckle slightly from the sexy blonde's servicing. 
Gerald never would have admitted it aloud, but Bianca Blackwood had been
the star of many a fantasy he'd had since entering Coxville high.  Her
perfectly toned yet softly inviting body, her big round milk white breasts,
and (most of all) her big bouncy bubble butt had been the focal point of
many an orgasm he'd had in private since his freshman year.  He took a seat
in the chair he'd been sitting in at the beginning of his punishment, and
removed his other articles of clothing, leaving on only his socks and
shoes. Bare chested Bianca noticed that Gerald had a lot more muscle than
was suggested when he had his clothes on.  He had a bit of a paunch, but
only barely.  The upper parts of his stomach and oblique's had firm abs and
ridges of muscle, his shoulders broad and more sculpted than even a number
of the boys on the football team.  She followed him doggedly, horny from
this new knowledge and totally engaged in the fun now.  She was determined
to get that big black monster cock back into her mouth.
   He sat back in the chair, letting himself slouch and his erect cock to
stand tall like a black vein-riddled tower.
   "Come suck on my Empire steak Mrs.  Blackwood", he said.
   Fully erect Bianca realized that she'd been wrong about her earlier
estimation.  Gerald wasn't ten inches.  No...fully aroused he was closer to
a full twelve!  She sank to all fours when she got within sucking range.
   "Goodness gracious Gerald...your cock is just so enormous" she said
admiringly, running a hand slowly up the long wet shaft, which she still
couldn't fit her entire hand around it.  "This thing is gonna give me
lockjaw if you're not careful" said Bianca, leaning forward and slipping
Gerald's dickhead back inside her mouth, hands free and with both of her
palms planted firmly on Gerald's feet.  She had to pull her head down some
inches with the thing in her mouth just to keep her neck from
overstretching.  His erection made her pulling it down a taught position.
She wanted to be careful.  If it suddenly flew out of her mouth she thought
she might've lose some teeth in the process, not to mention wind the young
boy with a solid blow to the stomach from his own cock.  His ebony tower
was like a tubular brick with skin.
   My word, it's so heavy too, she thought.  Without the use of her hands
her mouth felt the full weight of Style's chubby cock.  It felt like more
than a pound while crammed in her mouth.
   "Careful?" Gerald shot back, "Fuck dat noise, fortune favors tha bold
Mrs.  B.  Now go hard on dat shit."
   Immediately Bianca complied.  Mmhhmmhhmmhh!!  followed from her mouth
with each pass.  Bianca couldn't swallow as much in this new dog-like
posture, but what she had was drooled and sucked on furiously.  It was like
the once straight-laced teacher was suddenly possessed.  She was really
getting into it now, sucking and slurping so load and fast that it echoed
throughout the expanse of the classroom.  Mmmhmmhmm gack, mmhmmhmmh gurk,
the sounds of Bianca feasting on Gerald's massive manhood, and making a
right mess of it in the process.  Her cheeks hollowed from her labors of
tackling the head.  This definitely wasn't what I had in mind for after
school detention she thought as Gerald's cock poked at one side of her
cheek.  Bianca then took a hand and let it slip to Gerald's underside in
order to cup his huge balls.  Long trails of spit followed her mouth as she
pulled her lips off his dickhead hard with a pop.  She'd seen Jenny do that
to Samson and thought it was an incredibly sexy move.
   When his fat rod became too much for her relatively tiny mouth and
throat to handle, she ducked her head just a bit lower to lap hungrily at
his nuts.  The feeing drove Gerald near insane with pleasure as she licked
and sucked, tugged and kneaded.  She'd shift her hand from his underside,
back up to the base of his heavy monster cock, and would lift it up so as
to have clear access to the black buck's bountiful nut sack.
   God, his balls taste just as good as his cock, Blackwood thought with
glee.  A god view showed Bianca's body pronounced on all fours as she
sucked and pulled on both of Gerald's cum filled balls.  Gerald had a clear
image of the amazing cleavage that hung forth inside Mrs.  Blackwood's
white blouse.  Two big milk white jugs that he simply couldn't wait to
fuck. It looked as though Bianca had a similar idea, judging from the
seductive gaze held in her eyes as finished pulling on Gerald right
testicle, a slick pop marking her release of it.
   His glee and anticipation for her bountiful mounds however was trumped
upon his looking up to the area just below Bianca's hips.  There he saw the
great big round double mass that made up Bianca Blackwood's legendary ass.
He'd fanaticized about that more than anything, and the mere thought of
finally having a go at it made his cock swell and seep even more pre cum.
As Bianca wrapped her lips around the other of Gerald's giant balls, he
smiled to himself.  Nigga, you hit the jackpot dis time.  He surveyed the
near hypnotized gleam in Blackwood's blue eyes, and knew that for today's
detention period, he would be the teacher, and she the student.
   "Ohhh, got damn you bad Mrs.  Blackwood" he uttered as his fat cock
disappeared back into Bianca's mouth.
   Bianca was turned on by Gerald's reaction.  Never had she had him this
compliant and responsive to her.  Reluctantly she let Gerald's monster cock
fall from her mouth to respond.
   "Bad?  Me?  She said coyly.  "Coming from you that makes me on par with
an angel..." she smirked seductively as she took her tongue and starting
from the bottom of Gerald's balls to trace a wet line with her tongue all
the way to the tip of his monster cock.  Upon reaching the top with her
tongue, she gently licked at his urethra, enjoying the drops of cum that
seeped from it.
   Bitch has turned to straight Ms.  Hyde for nigga dick "No doubt" replied
Gerald.  "Let me see dem big ass titties dou.  My meat wants to get
acquian'ed wit em."
   "Oh really?" said Bianca.
   And with that Bianca slowly undid the buttons on her blouse.  She was
curious herself at how Gerald's fat black man-pipe would look wedged
between her large breasts.  She unveiled them after a quick motion to
unlatch her bra.  While Bianca Blackwood's ass was her prize trait, her
immense round breasts were certainly treasures of their own.  Peaked with
two delicate pink nipples that had budded during their fun, Bianca's
astounding chest flopped slightly from the fabric of her clothing.
   "Got damn!  Dey look even betta dan I imagined dey would!" he said.
   Immediately Bianca's big round twins found themselves being placed on
both sides of Gerald's now rock hard cock.  Bianca's natural perkiness
often astounded people.  Two children and not the slightest signs of wear
were seen on her immense rack.
   "Holy shit, looks just as good as it feels" he said, reaching forward
and tweaking a nipple as Bianca aligned his big black monster to the proper
place.  Bianca hadn't given a titty-fucking since college, and she'd
forgotten how fun it was.  A cock as large as Gerald's was a bit daunting
for the voluptuous instructor at first.  Gerald's almost overwhelming girth
in several instances made her think the feat might actually not work, his
cock too thick for the open space on her chest.  With a bit of spit and
some extra muscle used on her arms to clamp that monster down however, she
was soon able to work herself into a rhythm.  Gerald's mind soared at the
feeling.  Mrs.  Blackwood's breasts were the softest things he'd ever felt.
They bounced up and down on his dick, each downward stroke met with a
slight plap of her breasts against his thighs.
   "Got damn, dats good Mrs.  B."
   "You like that?"
   "Fuck yeah."
   "God, your dick is just so-" she was cut off by her sucking of Gerald's
cockhead, which regardless of her breast's grip still came up to near her
nose.  She sucked hard on his head as her breasts jacked him off, all the
while gazing up at the young man.
   Fuck, Mrs.B's titty bangin skills put even Patty's to shame, he thought.
   Bianca picked up her pace, a steady mmhmhm maintained as her full
luscious lips stayed latched onto Gerald's dick head, refusing to let his
steady drips of pre-cum go untasted.  She could easily see herself becoming
addicted to this.  More and more she hated the idea that she hadn't done
this before.  If not with Gerald, then with some other black stud on
campus. Despite Jenny's laying claim and dibs on Coach Black, Bianca had
always secretly found him to be an impressively built and particularly
handsome black man.  Black himself had made it known from a few flirtatious
words in the teacher's lounge and several less than professional glances in
the hallway that he'd found her and her big round ass to be incredibly
sexy. As Bianca continued pumping her tits up and down on Gerald's giant
cock, Gerald leaned forward, his excitement towards her big round bottom
trumping his patience.
   "All dis ass dou" said Gerald.  Using both hands he grabbed two firm
handfuls of Bianca's ass as it stayed compact yet perky inside her black
skirt.  The round shapely forms jiggled inside the fabric as Gerald rubbed
and playfully smacked at it.  Bianca was always self-conscious about her
posterior -- Gerald and his cronies' mocking exacerbating the fact -- but
she simply loved the way Gerald's powerful hands felt clamped down on her
butt.  He massaged both ass cheeks while she used her massive tits and
mouth to massage his cock.  From a behind view one could see the two big
spheres clutched in Gerald's hands, and Bianca's blond hair bobbing up and
down with sloppy wet audible reactions.
   "I can't wait no more, le'mme get in dat" Gerald then said, standing up
with his massive dick at the ready before the eager blondes's mouth.
   He quickly helped Mrs.  Blackwood to her feet, and immediately began
pulling at her skirt.
   "Wait...she then said abruptly"
   "What!?" said Gerald impatiently, his desire now hitting a fever pitch.
   "We forgot to lock the door."
   "So what, schools over.  Ain't nobody here cept the janitors."
   Ignoring him, Bianca quickly walked over to the door.  Half naked she
tilted her head out of the room.  The corridor was empty, all the students
having filed outside and most of the teachers having either gone home or to
the teacher's lounge.  Without wasting another moment, she firmly closed
and locked the door to the room.  She wasn't going to get caught in the way
Jenny was.  Cock drunk she may have been, but Bianca Blackwood wasn't
stupid.  She then turned on her heels and smiled invitingly at the waiting
Gerald.
   "No interruptions during detention" she said.  She could see Gerald's
monstrous meat perk up at the phrase.
   "Aight then", Styles smirked.
   The two approached each other, and Gerald instantly went for his busty
teacher's skirt.  Not wasting a breath, he pulled at the hem of her pants.
It surprised him how difficult it was to pull the tight fitting article
down from his teacher's gorgeous body.  The meat of her ass held firm to
the interior of her skirt, and he actually had to turn her around to get a
firm hold of it.  When Gerald was finally able to pull the piece down to
about half way, his jaw dropped.
   "Got damn Mrs.  B!"
   The exposed portions of Bianca's ass caked slightly over the tight
fabric of her skirt, teasing the notion of how much ass Mrs.  Blackwood had
on her.  As he pulled the black skirt down, her ass bloomed outward,
revealing smooth and immaculate white skin clad in simple pink cotton
panties.  It was more than Gerald had even expected.  Mrs.  B's ass would
put even a lot of the sistas in town to shame.  Bianca had to fight her
initial discomfort with revealing her ass to someone.  It had taken her
time to warm up to showing it to Jeb, but now here she was exposing it to
one of her own students.
   "Dis is a mu'phuckin work ah art", Gerald said.  And strangely, the
compliment soothed her.
   Bianca then found herself wanting to see how much Gerald appreciated her
ass.  As if he could read her mind, the burly young negro buried his face
in her bulbous bottom.  He used his tongue to lick at her sweet gash, the
juices flowing freely from his touch.
   "Ohhh, that feels wonderful Gerald".
   His only vocal response was a hail of slurps and sucking sounds as he
lapped at her wet pussy.  She tasted so sweet on his tongue he'd have sworn
her vagina was made of honey.  As he lapped up and down her snatch, his
nose would occasionally rise to hit her anus, which sent a curious
sensation throughout Bianca's body.  After a few moments of this, Gerald's
rock hard monster cock could be stilled no longer.  In only two moves he
had Bianca on her back on top of her chair, her legs swinging up to be held
by one of Gerald's strong hands.  His other hand was holding his dark stick
and guiding steadily into Mrs.  Blackwood's pussy.  Bianca's hot pink pussy
lips barricaded Gerald's gigantic tool as best it could, his head being
pushed back from them as he moved forward.
   "It isn't going to fit..." She said.
   "Sheeeit" replied Gerald, "I'mma make it fit."
   And with that Gerald pushed his big black cock hard into the unprepared
blonde's pink pussy.
   "OHH GOD!" bellowed Bianca.  The first inches making up the head and
surprisingly gone in just fine after Gerald put a little more force behind
his entry.  The remaining ten inches however stretched the poor woman wide,
beyond anything she'd ever expected...outside of childbirth perhaps.
   "GOOD LORD!" she screamed, ITS MASSIVE!" she cooed in some pain, but not
so much that she wanted to stop.  The pain quickly melted into an intensive
wave of pleasure as that giant black member rubbed against her nerves and
brushed itself against her soft wet insides.
   Gerald's face curled in concentration as he carefully guided another
inch into his thick Valkyrie of a teacher.
   "Dis is one tight ass pussy...way tighter than I expected it to be..."
   The heat from Mrs.  Blackwood's pussy was intense.  She was like a mini
furnace of brilliant wet flesh that was, very slowly, but surely allowing
his monster cock to invade her.  He held her legs up high, and tilted
himself forward to get more of him settled inside her.  Bianca's back was
flat, mushed atop Gerald's essay papers.
   "Oh god, oh god..." she's chant with each new heavy inch.  She was
getting spread wide, and she still had about six inches left to go!
   "Halfway there..."Gerald said.
   "Your cock is something out of fiction!"
   "King kong dick fo yo uptight ass..."
   Bianca took as much as she could, which ended at about ten inches or so.
Gerald then began move his rod back and forth inside her.  He started slow
at first, since anything faster would have likely been too much for the
unversed black cock whore.  Bianca's first orgasm came from Gerald's steady
rocking motion.
   "Oh GOD, I-I'M-" but before she could finish her pussy had already
commenced convulsing and pulsing tightly onto her black lover's man part.
   Gerald took this as his queue to speed up, not wanting to lose momentum
now that he knew what made his teacher cum.
   "Yeah, you bout to learn why they call me G-Spotz Mrs.  Blackwood.
   Blackwood recalled the name, and the apparent origin of its use. 
G-Spotz, cause dats what I hit wit ma fat ass dick, nigga!  And after that
first intense orgasm, the blond beauty didn't much doubt the saying's
truth.
   ...
   From there on out Gerald showed Mrs.  Blackwood little mercy.  He stood
up on the tips and balls of his feet, and proceeded to pound his once stiff
nosed teacher hard.  Blap, blap, blap was the report of Gerald Style's body
colliding with Bianca Blackwood's.  He'd pulled her closer to him, so that
her big ass hung just off the edge of the desk.  An underside view showed
that every time Gerald punched himself into her delectable pussy, her ass
cheeks would ripple in reaction to his impressive power.
   "Ugh, ugh, ugh !!" he grunted.
   "OH, AH, AGH, FUCK!  Moaned Mrs.  Blackwood, her face making a serious
of expressions that looked to be a mix of wonder, a peppering of fear, a
dash of pain, and hefty amount of satisfaction.
   G-Spotz heavy balls clapped loud against her unprotected anus, which was
made visible next to her tightly stuffed snatch.  It clinched every time it
swung into her, and served as a second source of ecstasy.  Sweet gentle
Jesus!  Bianca thought.  Jeb on his best day couldn't fuck me this good. 
She hit another small orgasm from the added punch of Gerald's balls, just
as his monster cock slipped a hard ten inch span of itself into her sweet
pink pussy.  Gerald spread her legs far with both hand and tried getting in
as much as he could.  But it seemed as though Blackwood's pussy simply
didn't go that deep.  It was a pity, Mrs.  Blackwood was loving his
powerhouse cock so much.  She was either positioning herself in a way that
made it difficult for him to reach the deepest part of her, or Mrs. 
Blackwood was built tinier than her impressive shape and height advertised.
In any case, Gerald had a way and a plan to find out for sure.  He pulled
himself all the way out her, an act which clearly angered Bianca.
   "What are you doing!?" she asked, her eyes furrowed.
   "Come er', sit on it.  I wanna see you ride ma shit."
   Without delay, Bianca sprung up from her spot on the desk.  A flurry of
papers went in multiple directions from how fast she rose.  Gerald sat
himself back down in the brown chair again, his arms dangling at his sides.
Bianca took his queue and straddled herself just above the boy in nothing
but her black high heels.  Even without her heels, Bianca was naturally
taller than Styles.  She towered over him as she reached a hand behind
herself to grab at Gerald's dynamite mandingo stick.
   "You want me to ride this big beast huh?" she asked seductively.
   "Hell yeah, bring dat big ol ass here."
   Bianca clutched the hefty thing in her left.  It had been a miracle he'd
got in her during missionary, and she thought it would take another miracle
to get back into her in cowgirl.  However, after the minor beating her
pussy had taken before, Bianca found it easier than she'd thought it would
be to fit G-Spotz' massive meat stick back into her, where it belongs she
thought.  Her sweet pink pussy lips spread as her mouth parted in delight
meshed with strain.  Her blue eyes glazed with the sign of a woman awash in
pleasure.
   "OHHHH...!" was all she could get out for the first few fat inches. 
"FUCK!" she belted as Gerald's flesh hammer slid upward into her, slid
upwards and into her deep.  "So THICK" she whimpered, unsure of how exactly
she could handle something so monstrous.
   "Nah, you got this.  Work that shit baby" encouraged Gerald, who took
both his hands and gripped Mrs.  Blackwood slim toned waist.
   Gerald assisted her, and proceeded to pull her down onto his mammoth
meat stick.  He could feel Bianca's oncoming climax even before she reacted
to it.
   "Oh jesus, I'm cumming already!"
   Bianca squirmed with delight, her back arched, and all its shapely
muscles and curves flexed in applaud to Gerald's immense length and girth.
Gerald didn't let her orgasm wane the pace of their fucking however.  He
clasped his hands tighter around her waist, and made her go up and down on
his massive ebony cock.  Bianca bounced in the burly negro's lap.
   "OH, UGH, JESUS, FUCK ME!  She groaned.  Her back remained arched and
she placed both of her hands firmly on Gerald's knees for balance.  Gerald
would stare at the raw beauty of her curvaceous body before as it went up
and down hard, her breasts heaving and flopping in alluring arches.  At
times Bianca's moans dipped into low guttural sounds.  Bitch sounds like
she's possessed by the dick, Gerald thought.
   "Ugh, shit, yeah, yeah!" Gerald chanted.  Mrs.  Blackwood was an
unnatural at riding nigger dick.
   When she finally came down from her sixth some odd orgasm, she grew bold
enough to try and work her own body into the groove of their fucking.  She
leaned forward, close enough that Gerald had no trouble wrapping his big
black lips around one of tightly budded pink nipples.  Bianca angled her
legs on the floor, placing all her weight on the balls of her feet, and
clamped both her hands on the very top of the chair.  In reflection, Bianca
was so glad she'd decided to bring the chair she'd had at home from school.
I'd never be able to do this in one of those cramped desks, she thought.
   Mrs.  Blackwood then began to do something spectacular.  Using her hips,
pelvis and weight together, Bianca then started bouncing her ass up and
down on Gerald's rock hard black tower.  Her bubble butt jiggled and shook
hypnotically from a behind angle, wet secretions immediately seeping from
her hot pink pussy and drooling down Gerald's shaft and balls.  Plap, plap,
plap were the swift sounds that came from Bianca's ass as flesh clapped
against flesh.
   "OH MA GAWD!" Gerald groaned, unable to keep quiet on how amazing his
teacher's ass control was.  "WORK DAT SHIT!"
   And working was exactly what Bianca did.  She found it remarkably easy
to pop her ass, and slipped her hands down to Gerald's chiseled chest to
show off her control.  She'd done it quite a few times to Jeb, and had
managed to finish him every time with only a few thrusts.  This technique
didn't work so easily with Gerald however.  No, no matter how hard or fast
Bianca popped and shook her big round bubble atop him, his monster cock
wouldn't relent.  If anything her hip thrusts and booty popping only made
the boy grow another inch or so in length and girth.  Her lower back
muscles flexed hard from working overtime of bouncing up and down, tensing
and then releasing will immaculate flaring of the senses as payment.
   Goodness, what does it take to wear this monster down?  , she thought.
Gerald responded to her challenge by then pulling her down further onto his
cock.  It went in her deep, and made her face clench as she felt the better
end of twelve inches hit her cervix and beyond.
   "FUCK!" she yelled, letting her body juices flow in another shock
orgasm.
   G-Spotz upped his pace, moving his hands down from her hips and gripping
her bulbous buttocks.  So much ass, he thought.  And it wasn't even just
big, Mrs.  Blackwood knew how to use it!  If he was going to get his fill
of 3B, he would have to pace himself.  He force himself to stop and pulled
Bianca off his cock.  By now the entire twelve inch span of his nigger dick
was slathered and slopped with Bianca's wet secretions.
   "Come on ova here" he said in more of command than a request.
   Forcefully he bent her over the desk.  Her twin mountains were propped
up before him.  Her pussy was gapped from the pounding he'd given her, but
still he had more in mind.
   "You gonna fuck me from behind Mr.  Styles" Bianca said, turning back to
look at him with a catty smirk to match his own cocky grin.
   "Yeah, I'm bout to wear this big ol' ass out."
   "About to?  That big bastard's been wearing me out since we've started.
And I thought childbirth was difficult."
   Gerald placed one of his dark hands on Bianca' back, his thumb lining up
with the long inward curve of her lower back.
   "Well, I got some'mo fo ya."
   "An avid student...I love it."
   "Student ?  Bitch I'm bout to teach you..."
   And with that Gerald shoved his black cudgel back into his eager big
bootied teacher.  It went in with enough ease, but instead of stopping at
ten inches, Gerald gave her the full span of his nigger dick.
   "FFFUUCK!" screamed Mrs.  Blackwood, her hands immediately clutching at
her desk, and then a small set of scattered papers.  He didn't give her the
option of settling down or allowing her hands to find purchase on the desk.
G-Spotz just got back to pounding her, an incredible force behind each
blow. Blam, blam, blap, blam were the sounds of Gerald's hips hitting
against Bianca's big ass.  He had a clear upward view of the act, and it
only made him harder to see the immaculate ripples cascade along her lily
white skin.
   "3B in the mu'phuckin buildin!" he hooted.
   "AH, AH,OH, AH, GOD, OH, AGH, SO, GOOD!!" Mrs.  Blackwood belted, her
teeth gnashed with a mixed of pleasure and pain.  Her eyes were wide and
wanton as she looked behind her.
   Gerald fucked her hard, making sure each thrust went down to the hilt.
   "God, you're fucking me DEEP!" she cried, a hint of whine carried in her
tone.
   "You like it dou huh, bitch!  You like learnin what dat nigga dick do to
you white hoes!"
   "Oh yes!" She confessed.  "I love it.  I fucking LOVE it!  Fuck me with
your NIGGER COCK!"
   Mrs.  Blackwood was going wild.  All the trappings and ticks of her
professional character melted away with each deep plunge Gerald `G-Spotz'
Styles took into her.  The unruly youth was certainly living up to his
moniker.  Between her smaller lightning bolt orgasms and her big thunderous
toe curling climaxes, she'd lost count of how many times she came for
Gerald.  A mixed serving of shock and pleasure ignited on her right ass
cheek when Gerald ceremonially smacked it with his big open palm.
   "UGH, SHIT!" she writhed with clench teeth as Gerald grabbed onto her
firm shoulders.  The pounding he gave Bianca actually matched the steady
click, click, click tempo of the Isaac model still sitting atop the desk,
but slowly inching its way to edge from the force of the pair's power
fucking.  Bianca's pussy felt like liquid magic soaking on his rock hard
wang.  He'd gone about as deep as he could into her, coming up only a
little more than an inch short of his goal.  It was more than enough for
him however, and what he couldn't bury into her the smooth and slightly
glossy mass of Bianca's bottom made up for in visual aesthetic appeal.  Her
hips working in concert with her ass as she threw herself back looked
simply amazing.  I can't believe I'm pounding the biggest white ass in
town, he thought.
   He needed to settle himself down, lest he cum before he get in his final
triumph.  Through her bouncing and shoving backwards onto him, Gerald
learned that Mrs.  Blackwood's ass wasn't just soft and big.  No, what was
hinted through her clothing was not actually just bulk, but the underlying
existence of muscle, which resided just beneath the soft outer layers of
Mrs.  Blackwood's great big bubble.  Truly, Gerald had found himself in the
jackpot.
   By Bianca's next climax, Gerald pulled his black cock out of the
writhing blond.  It fell out with a small splash of effeminate liquids
which fell to the door.
   "Wouldn't a guess you was a squirter Mrs.  B", Gerald observing the mess
she'd mad.
   "Oh, oh god..." Bianca panted.  "Neither did I dear...Don't you dare
take that out of me, put it back!  I want you to cum now" she demanded.
   "Hold on, chuckled Gerald.  I got one mo thing I wanna to try."
   Bianca flew up and spun on her heel.  She hit her knees with near
blinding speed, and got back to sucking on Gerald's monster cock.  She
bobbed and blurted and sputtered on the big nigger dick she'd now been
driven insane over.  She even tried deep throating the thing during a
couple passes, coming up short each time, but leaving a very pretty spray
of fresh spit and saliva for her efforts.  At some point during their
ferocious fuck session Bianca's glasses had flown off her face and onto the
floor.  Her eyes were watering freely now, and two small streams ran down
from her wide blue eyes.
   "Get up and bend back over." Gerald ordered.
   He pulled her back up, and bent her back over the desk.  Bianca's pussy
was now officially beaten to the best of his Gerald's ability.
   "Gimme more" she begged, wiggling her ass in front of him impatiently.
   "Now..." he began, "I'm about to see how good 3B's ass really is..."
   Gerald aligned both her legs together and mounted himself just behind
her.  He cupped one round buttock.  Propping her lower half up slightly
with hands, he could see the smooth, almost glossy complexion of Bianca's
healthy white skin.  He then brought his big fat pussy killer up and let it
rest atop of Bianca's big round ass.  Bianca was shocked again at the
actual weight of it.
   "I see big things in yo future Mrs.  Blackwood" the young negro teased.
   "That thing is heavy as a brick" she replied.
   Gerald sawed is humungous hammer between Bianca's bouncy butt cheeks for
a few moment.  He then pulled at her ass cheek, making it part from its
twin to expose the sweet starfish shaped butthole that resided just above
her immaculate snatch.
   "Wait...Gerald, what are you-" but it was too late.  Gerald had already
started shoving his massive cock into her unguarded anus.
   "UGH!" She cried.  "Wait, wait, I've never done anal before, you've
gotta-"
   "I know what I gotta do" Gerald assured her, pulling at her ass cheek
further and keeping her legs and hips firmly in place.
   There was more than a little resistance from the tight uncharted
opening. But from Gerald's mere efforts to get the head into her anus she
could feel the telltale signs of yet another orgasm approaching.
   "Oh no, I'm-I'm cumming agai-"
   But Gerald had already begun.  He pushed the beginning inch of his
bulbous cock head into her tiny butthole by that point.  His dick actually
bent and showed signs of resistance, Bianca's stubborn little asshole
giving up only so much entry per shove, while her pussy leaked and squirted
cum fluids freely.  If the pounding Bianca Blackwood was taking wasn't
intense enough, the next part was bound to be the true hard part of her
tutelage by Gerald `G-Spotz' Styles.
   ...
   Mrs.  Blackwood's sweet anus didn't stand a chance against Gerald's
black monster cock.  It stretch and spread in obeisance of Gerald's massive
member.  His big cupping her ass didn't allow her any greater mercy, nor
allowed her squirm about as his black pipe invaded her.
   "UGGGGH JESUS!" Bianca screamed, flecks of drool coming from her mouth
as the massive member dung into her.  It would likely drive her insane
before it got even half way in.
   "Dat's right 3B, take this shit.  Don't fight it.  The mo' you fight the
harder it is."
   Bianca tried taking deep breaths in an out.  Her ass was getting
annihilated just from the insertion!
   "Ok, ok...just, AGH, just slow..." she begged.
   Gerald continued with his task, beads of sweat forming on his temples
and forehead from his efforts.  Man o man, I knew Mrs.  B was a tight
ass...but dis is ridiculous, thought the buff black youth.  All his pushing
and shoving had only gotten the head of his cock up Bianca's big sweet
bubble butt.  Her cumming during the span of that time had acted as both an
aid and a hindrance.  In the waning parts of her orgasms, her ass muscles
would relax enough for him to go deeper into her.  However before this,
Gerald would have to brave the initial obstacle of her thunderous
culminations.  Blackwood's ass would clench up so tight during orgasm that
further entry into her puckered asshole was all but impossible, and he ran
the risk of losing ground every time he tried forcing it in.  It had to be
a timed action on his part, as Bianca's climaxes were coming back to back
in no discernible pattern.  As his big bootied teacher's legs shook with
excitement, ecstasy and just a little bit of visible fear, Gerald held her
ass in place and guided his monster cock straight up her shaking asshole.
The timing was right, and Bianca was just about ready to burst again from
the intense mixture of pleasure and pain.
   "Ohhhh shit Gerald..." she whined.  "Please tell me you got it all
in..."
   "About half Mrs.  B..." Gerald replied.
   "Goodness, that's only half?!"
   "Yep...dis fine ass is gonna have to get a few cram sessions in before
it can start excelling at takin nigga dick..."
   Gerald pressed on with clenched teeth into his yellow haired Valkyrie.
He held her shapely hips, gripped her thin toned waist and pushed and
shoved.  Bianca groaned and moaned and clutched at idle papers scattered on
the desk.  After what felt like an eternity of getting trained by the slow
entrance of Gerald's monster cock, Bianca eyes fluttered happily upon
feeling Gerald's hips pressed against the back of her ass.
   "There!" Gerald said triumphantly.
   He pulled back, and gave Bianca pump, Bam.  An intense wave of
satisfaction crackled through Bianca's body.  Gerald pulled back, and gave
another pump, bam.  He'd done it!  Gerald had really gotten that monster up
her ass!  A few more safe pumps, bam, blap, bam.  After this Gerald
continued with his brutal onslaught.  Bam, blap, wham sounds reverberated
throughout the room.
   "OH, GOD, OH, GOD!  I can't believe you got that thing up my ass!"
   "Tight fit...but I got it in.  Now, lemme fuck it proper."
   YES!  YES!  FUCK ME!  FUCK MY ASS GERALD!" Bianca screamed freely into
the air.  Gerald pounded her ass with no remorse.  Her moans and curses
were mixed with what almost sounded like sobs, though her encouraging words
for the negro to continued suggested the big blond was loving every second
of it.
   Gerald soon lifted her up and placed her onto the table, folding both
her legs to one side in a half fetal position that propped her large moon
shaped ass up at an angle.
   Bianca's angle granted her a view of her relentless black stud's attack.
His bare chest was sweating freely, and his arm muscles were pronounced
from him holding her big round cheeks with both of his hands.  He looked
like he was hard at work satisfying her, and she truly loved him and his
humungous nigger cock for it.
   "Oh, you're pounding my ass so GOOD Gerald!" she complimented.  Bap,
bam, blap!
   Gerald looked Mrs.  Blackwood dead in her eyes as he kept up his pace,
her ass turned up in a way that made her back muscles stretch and flex with
the force each powerful blam.  Looking at her piercing blue eyes and seeing
the raw fervor that burned in them made his oncoming orgasm that much more
intense.  It was coming, and this time he couldn't stop himself.
   "Oh, ah, Mrs.  B, I'm bout to nut!" he exclaimed.
   "Yes Gerald, YES!  Cum, cum inside my ass.  Do it!" she encouraged with
a clenched face of raw passion asas Gerald went balls deep into her.
   "Here it co-!" Gerald got that far into his sentence when his climax
finally hit.
   It was several beyond intense waves of pleasure that hit him in one
controlled burst.  His balls quaked, and his cock stiffened to an almost
inhuman steel when the pearly white cum sprayed from his engorged black
cockhead and shot deep into Mrs.  Blackwood's succulent ass.
   "UUUUGGHHHHH SHIT!" he growled.
   "AAAAAHHHH!" screamed Mrs.  Blackwood, holding onto the edge of her desk
for dear life as the hardening of extra length of Gerald's cock made her
cum again intensely.  Her arm muscles tensed from her own final orgasm.
   Internally Bianca's butt was flooded with creamy white semen.  It was a
gallon by her guess, but she had no way of really estimating, considering
she was riding the arch of her own personal heaven.  Soon her tight asshole
was filled to the brim with sticky white cum, the liquids spilling out of
her gaped asshole and drooling onto the desk and floor after reaching max
capacity.  When Bianca was released from her spasms or pleasure, she hopped
from spot on the desk and hit her knees to suck at the rich bounty of white
that was still seeping from Gerald's master sized cock.  Her mouth took to
the fat head, and selfishly gulped and suckled at what came out.  Mmhmmhmhh
as she bobbed her head furiously back and forth, gripping his balls tightly
to drain every drop from him.  Soooo good, she thought drunkly The steady
waves of jiz wouldn't relent, even though she was sucking and swallowing as
fast as she could.  Her cheeks puffed up, having been filled with Gerald's
rich semen, and started to spill from the sides of her mouth.  Jesus, I've
seen horses come up shorter, she thought.
   When her mouth and throat had had its filled, she released Gerald's cock
head from her mouth, choosing instead to bask in the rich flavor of her
beast's great serving of cum.  Even after he had settled, dregs of the
white substance trickled from the head of his now softening baton.
   "Got DAMN!" he breathed heavily, taking a hand and placing it on top of
the desk so as to collect himself, his knees threatening to buckle.  "Mrs.
B...I gotta hand it to you.  You hard as a teacher...but you go hard as
fuck on some nigga dick."
   And that be the spoken truth.  Bianca surveyed herself.  She was an
outright mess.  Sweat, semen and bodily fluids covered her entire body. 
She was smothered in the stuff, but she felt...well...absolutely great. 
All the tension and anxiety that she'd been feeling for weeks now was just
gone, purged from her body completely.
   "Gerald..." Bianca was able to say after swallowing the last serving of
Gerald's cum.  "If you studied half as well as you fucked...you'd easily be
my top student..."
   Gerald looked down at her, his familiar grin dawned once again on his
strong black features...but this time looking somehow...more endearing and
boyishly charming to the spent blond bombshell.
   "So...did I fuck ma'self inta getting an A?" He asked.
   "You fucked your way out of NOT getting expelled" she said, not so out
of sorts by being fucked stupid that she'd outright let the boy slide for
disrupting her class.  "And...I will reconsider your paper upon a second
review."
   "Psh, if you can find it" exclaimed Gerald, looking at the mess they'd
made.
   The papers that hadn't been reduced to a wet soggy mess of sweat and cum
had been bent, crumpled and/or ripped from the ferocity of their fucking.
Gerald's paper would have been easily spot, having looked so rumpled and
hard used beforehand.  Now all the papers looked to be in a similar state.
   "Well..." Bianca said, looking to the desk and around the scattered
pieces while on her knees.  "I suppose we might have gotten a bit carried
away.  Looks like I'll be emailing all the grades this time..."
   "Yeah...guess so..." agreed Gerald.
   ...
   The following week...
   "Alright class, that'll do it for today" said Mrs.  Blackwood to the
class as the school bell tolled.
   "Remember, its chapters three to five you're reading tonight in your
book, Not three to five paragraphs of whichever chapter you like."
   A random hail of acknowledgements came from various points in the crowd.
It was more than they'd ever given her in the past, so the response
therefore was considered a positive one.  Mrs.  Blackwood - as usual -
looked stunning in her red button down shirt underneath a black cardigan
she'd picked out from near the back of her home closet.  With she wore a
rather tight fitting pair of slack with making black stiletto shoes.  A lot
of black to wear on such a hot day in the south, but Mrs.  Blackwood was
feeling particularly fond of the shade just now.  Her hair, face and skin
complexion looked immaculate and healthy, as though she'd spent the night
before spoiling herself at the spa rather than getting pounded senseless in
that very classroom.
   "Bye Mrs.  Blackwood" said Stacy Brown.
   "Goodbye dear, take care" Mrs.  Blackwood replied while collecting her
notes.  During the process one paper slipped out from her grasp and gently
wafted to the floor.
   "Ah crap!" Mrs.  Blackwood cursed as she bent over to pick the piece up.
   Khalil immediately saw this and wasted no time reacting.
   "3B up and on it!"
   Rather than get angry or turning to face the oncoming troupe of Khalil,
D'Shawn, Devon and Gerald "G-spotz" Styles, Mrs.  Blackwood simply turned
her head to the boy - still bent over and exposing her large round ass -
and said,
   "I hope you're up and on that makeup paper you owe me Khalil." She
grabbed the piece of paper and - perhaps a bit slower than was necessary -
brought herself back up to a standing position.  "You don't want to spend
all summer in here with me I know..." she smirked to the boy.
   Khalil was stumped by Mrs.  Blackwood's smooth reaction, his face
looking frozen in some considerable disbelief.
   "Move nigga!" came Gerald, pushing the stunned boy from behind.  "You a
fire hazard on toppa being stupid?"
   "Fuck you nigga!" replied Khalil begrudgingly.
   "You boys can flirt all you want outside." Bianca said, hurrying the
boys along.
   On their way out, Gerald turned back to Mrs.  Blackwood, "Catch you
later Mrs.  B" he said wearing his trademark smirk.
   "Chapters three to five, read top to bottom by tomorrow Mr.  Styles"
replied Blackwood.  And if some sort of secret nudge of humor was
transferred between the teacher and student, Khalil and the others didn't
notice it in the slightest.
   Seemingly overnight the class had made a drastic change.  Order had
settled over Bianca Blackwood's final class period.  Most of it being
accredited to the fact that - quite frankly - Blackwood had found an
effective agent in Mr.  Styles.  Allowing his commentary - with a bit of
guidance from her end - to spark discussion in class had turned out to be
the best way to get the class interested in the daily lectures.  They had
an agreement that Styles would act as her unofficial TA, aiding her in
sparking discussion by adding a bit of his own personal outlook to each
subject.  Surprisingly several points he'd made in the days following his
presentation had made a lot more sense to the blond beauty upon hearing
them again.  Gerald made it a point to prune and word his comments a bit
more carefully...or at least he made it point to try as such.  It proved to
be most useful in getting useful input from the class.  Especially
considering that Bianca's prize student - the one who hadn't given her
multiple orgasms - hadn't shown up to class lately.
   Daphne Rosenwood hadn't been to her class for several days now.  The
conservative girl's mother had called the school to inform her teacher
she'd come down with a case of something, a mild sickness that would leave
her out of commission for the next few days.  Bianca wasn't sure that was
entirely the case however.  The girl's perfect attendance aside, the timing
of her apparent illness just seemed too...convenient.
   "Mrs.  Blackwood!" came a stern voice abruptly over the school intercom.
"Mrs.  Blackwood!  Please report to the principal's office immediately."
   Bianca's ears perked up at the summons.  What could that be about, she
thought.  She knew the voice on the above intercom immediately to be the
voice of Principal Long.  She most certainly hadn't made a request to speak
with him recently.  The old grumpy coot was calling her to his office for
something out of the sheer blue...and never hinted of anything good for
anyone - student or teacher alike -.
   "Great" Bianca groaned to herself, "this is just what I want to do after
my final period.  Pop into Principal Long's office for a nice long ear
chewing."
   Bianca collected her notes into a neat pile and left them on her desk.
The entire trip to Long's office had been a nervous one.  She wondered the
entire way what in the world she could have done to attract the old
grouches' attention.  Long's secretary - a seemingly ancient woman in
appearance - claimed to have known nothing about the reason to her being
called the office...though Bianca got the feeling that something was being
withheld by the old woman.  As she entered Long's office, her heart jumped
into her throat for some indeterminate reason upon spying the young Daphne
sitting in a chair across the way from the old balding man.  Daphne looked
a far ways differently than she normally did, her conservative garments and
trademark beehive haircut having been replaced with a simple white t-shirt
bearing the legend "talk nerdy to me" scrawled in black across the
surprisingly ample and tight fitting chest area.  Daphne's dark haired
curtained her pretty face and framed glasses, and she wore a simple pair of
- again rather tight fitting - shorts, which showed off Daphne's
surprisingly toned and astonishingly smooth looking legs.  Daphne Rosenwood
- to Mrs.  Blackwood's silent shock - was quite the knockout when not
dawning her conservative attire.
   A look of stark look of unease painted across the girl's youthful
features however filled Bianca with her own degree of discomfort.
   "Ah, Mrs.  Blackwood!" said Principal Long from his position behind the
desk.
   His was slouched forward in his chair, his hands placed upon the desk in
a steeple.
   "Please, having a seat" he said bluntly.  The man never sounded to be
anything short of either irked or angry.  No one could ever tell when he
wasn't pissed, which always left staff and students alike in a perpetual
discomfort when around the old man.
   "Ms.  Rosenwood here has just finished telling me a very...compelling
story" the old man said, leaning back in his chair to take in the full view
of Bianca as she took the empty seat next to Daphne.
   Daphne didn't look at Bianca once as she sat, and this only made
Blackwood even more nervous.  I locked the door beforehand, didn't I?  She
began questioning and second guessing herself.
   "A very interesting story about you and one of your other students..."
   Oh shit, Bianca thought to herself.  Blackwood had found cursing to come
far easier to her these days than they had before.  Not so much in everyday
speak, for she wanted to maintain her much deserved respect and eloquence
in front of her students and peers.  But in her mind and in private she'd
found cursing and crasser uses of language in reference to others to be a
rather liberating exercise.
   "A very interesting story involving you and Mr.  Gerald Styles..."
   "Hmmm?" Bianca replied coyly.  If all else failed, a pretty blond
playing dumb worked more often than not in Coxville.  Bianca the lord
himself knew it had gotten Jenny Summers out of trouble more than once.
   "Don't pretend like you don't know!" belted the young Daphne next to
her. The look of shock and wide eyed expression on her face startled
Bianca. "I saw you, I saw you both!"
   The girl choked on her own exasperation.
   "You and Gerald were...I mean...you were both...and you were sucking on
his..."
   "What on earth are you talking about Daphne?"
   "I think you can drop the act Mrs.  Blackwood." Chimed in the surly
principal.  "Our young Daphne here is talking about this little account..."
   Long picked up a long sleek looking remote control.  He pointed it at
one of the far ends of the office and clicked it several times.  A small
bank of television monitors sputtered to life in tiny bursts of static and
blue light.  Four television monitors flickered to life to show four
different angles of - to the best of Bianca's visual ability - a stunningly
gorgeous and curvy woman being rammed mercilously by a big thick dark brown
color cock.  The woman was blond, bare naked except for her black stiletto
shoes, and wore a look of such pleasure while being throttled from behind,
being hammered in missionary, riding with incredibly control on top, and
dropped to her knees while suck at the black bulls gigantic balls, that it
suggest the beautiful woman was drugged somehow.
   "My word!" Bianca said, a shocked O forming on her face to couple with
the shocked look Daphne wore.  Apparently while the girl had seen Bianca
and Gerald's escapades from just outside the classroom door's clear window
tile - the one neither the blond nor the negro had considered covering
prior to their session - she didn't seem to be at all aware that Principal
Long was carrying footage of the event.
   It took Bianca a moment to realize that the beautiful woman in the video
was actually her.  When she did, she primarily felt a wave of fear take
her. Fear of being fired from her job, fear of her husband Jeb finding out,
fear of her children and friends discovering how much of a whore their
mommy was for big black nigger cock, fear of how this would affect her
social standing in the Coxville community.  Another part of her however,
some vain and wanton aspect living in the back of her mind, wondered if
maybe education was the wrong career choice, and how much she'd be able to
make exactly if she'd chosen a career in porn instead...high profile and
with black male performers only of course.
   "Care to explain this?" said Principal Long, uncomfortably patient for
her answer.  His deep brown eyes didn't waver from, nor even blink before
the buxom blond.
   "Now, Principal Long...I...I can"
   "Let me guess" he interjected.  "You can...explain?"
   "Yes...I can."
   Daphne remained silent, her eyes too transfixed on the monitors to pay
attention.  Bianca would have noticed a rather familiar gleam settling in
on the young girl's features, if she had been looking at her rather than
trying to stay her gaze of shock upon Principal Long rising from his seat.
   "You can explain to me how an instructor at this school was caught, on
film, engaging in sexual activities of a near Olympic level - with a
student - and on school grounds no less!?"
   The old man's voice boomed when he was excited or angry.  It had always
reminded her of that one black actor who had played the character Jules in
that one film Jeb liked so much.  The one where the black suited Negro
recites stanzas from Ezekiel 25: 17 (though Bianca was versed well enough
with the bible to know it had been a hod podge of various parts taken from
the book).  She squirmed in her seat, but not entirely because she scared.
Bianca noticed before Daphne did the long, soft looking pipe that seemed to
be wedged inside Principal Long's pants leg.  No way, Bianca thought.  Is
that?
   "Well Mrs.  Blackwood, you can explain it can't you?"
   Bianca's eyes faded down to the long trail that lined the old man's
pants.  Christ, she thought, that thing from here looks to be an easy
thirteen inches.  Daphne was able to pull herself away from the screens
long to enough to see Long reaching for the front of the belt.
   "Oh my..." she heard the surprisingly shapely brunette squeak as Long
reached into his pants, and pulled out the longest stretch of dark skinned
cock either girl had ever set eyes on.
   "Oh my god!" both girls gasped in unison.
   "Now, Ms.  Rosenwood here was good enough to bring your...talents and
their effects on the student body to my attention..." he said slyly. 
Instead of outright firing her, he had something else in mind.  If his
inhumanly long dong hanging in an unspeakable length with two equally huge
gray haired testicles weren't three big enough clues as is.
   "P-Principal Long!" blurted Daphne, literally reduced to breathless
gasps in her seat.
   Bianca looked over to see that - very curiously - the young girl hadn't
chosen to run from the old man exposing herself to them both.  She was
stuck in her seat just as much as she was, entranced by how long and full
and robust their old codger of a principal was.
   "Your penis is..." the young girl then said, lo and behold in the tone
of what could have been interpreted as curiosity meshed with a dash of
excitement and a pinch of wonder.  "It's...its enormous..."
   It baffled Bianca on a quieter level.  While perhaps not as thick as her
black stud Gerald, Principal Long's wang was exponentially longer than
anything she'd ever seen in her life.  Her mouth instantly watered at the
thought of wrapping her full lips around it.  It made her wet thinking
about trying to tackle such an impressive anaconda...almost as much as the
thought of watching the young Daphne try her hand at doing as such.
   "I think..." began Principal Long in a thoughtful drawl.  "Your
particular skills would be best put to use teaching another topic in our
school.  Sex Ed for example is in need of a good instructor carrying just
your kind of...enthusiasm."
   "I..." began Bianca, unable to pull her glance away from that uncoiled
brown snake.  "I actually think I agree you Principal Long..."
   "Excellent.  And with our school's stop female student here to assist
us, I think now would be the perfect opportunity to give your...lesson
outline...a good hard overview, don't you agree?"
   "Oh yes Principal Long..." replied Bianca in a sultry tambour.
   Looking over at the astonished Daphne and her tightly budded nipples,
Bianca was given silent confirmation by the young girl that she'd most
definitely be able to count on her assistance in handling such a long and
strong looking nigger cock.
   It's getting easier and easier these days, thought the old Principal, as
Bianca Blackwood took the reins and guided her mouth towards his long
seasoned sausage.  He had his ways and facts to understand why these two
beautiful white women were so easily entrapped by his immense member.  And
he had one or two sound theories on why taming the lovely host of Coxville
women had become near effortless for black males in town (even moreso than
usual) as of late.  But such theories would best be gnawed at a later time,
when two pairs of full white lips weren't gently beginning to slurp and
suck on both sides of his enormous and powerful nigger cock.
   Chapter 4 The Peculiar Case of Mr Brooks (Anya's story)
   There was blood on the sun the day he came to town.  Blood on the sun,
because the townsfolk could find no more fitting an idiom to describe the
state of it.  From that first sign of dawn til that evening's sunset - and
then for just a few minutes longer than dusk normally permitted - the big
bright orb that hovered over the vast stretch of land that was Coxville
county was splotched, saturated with a most peculiar shade of crimson.  A
thick coating of red that encapsulated the perfect sphere, and as a result,
gave the entire town's skyline a low and hazy tint, as though it were stuck
in a permanent blush just above the earth.  A queer phenomena, which to the
town's inhabitants went noted as one of the strangest and most
unprecedented acts of nature ever to occur in the small southern community.
One of the strangest to be sure...but certainly not the first to occur in
the region.
   Anyone outside the boundaries of the southern town who may have been at
all curious or inclined to gaze up at the sky on that day, would have been
either disappointed or (more likely)indifferent to find that the great
circle from their position hung and shone in its normal shape and hue. 
Nothing at all out of the ordinary, and to the rest of the human population
residing on its side of the globe in which sun held sway at that time, it
was just a typical day filled with routine deeds under a mundane blue sky.
The big red ball and the aberrant cloak that came in effect was only
viewable from within the secluded boundaries of Coxville County.  And
neither meteorologists, local historians, nor living witnesses of the event
has recorded or agreed to give any sort of commentary to outsiders about
that day, much like how they've done in the past with other interesting
affairs pertaining to the land.
   It didn't mark the sign of anything notably exciting after all...outside
of a new resident coming to town that is.  It loomed there, large, round
and uncommonly viewable in a cloudless space as a small caravan of trucks
approached.  Led by a long, sleek and immaculate looking jet black limo
sedan, the line of automobiles traversed the roads after passing the
neighboring lands of Coxburg, which resided north of the I-69, before
leading onward into town.  It passed Lake Cox at close to mid-day, the
remains of the long abandoned settlement which once stood there still
perceptible, even from afar.  The dust plume that came in its wake caused
local wildlife to stir and seek cover from the passing cavalcade from their
exposed positions of lily pads, bare rock faces, and clearings in the open
grasslands.
   It passed the rural farmlands and gleaning fields in an aggregation of
humming engines not long after.  Eventually the rural areas of nature and
wildlife disappeared, and the line of vehicles passed into the stretch of
cracked and long unattended concrete streets of more populated areas of
Coxville.  An urban settlement modeled with the various architectural
styles and pathways of New Orleans.  The land was known locally as N-Town,
an area predominantly inhabited by the county's African-American
inhabitants.  The precession gathered a host of onlookers, curious parties
consisting of the old, middle aged, and the young.  A few of the children
playing in the streets pointed fingers at the driven march, all the trucks
emblazoned with the company logo "We-Haul" on the broad side.  And their
gazes never failed to settle on the one vehicle in particular that was
leading the trek.
   The sedan drove at a steady pace down the main street, a broad vein of
cracked sidewalks and weary pavement through the town proper, known
publicly to its local residents and uttered (in hushed tones privileged
with separation) by their uptown neighbors as "Nigger Town".  The N-Town
residents watched in a mix of curiosity, excitement, and a fair few less
than approachable faces holding hostility in the moment the black vehicle
passed them.  Looks varied between faces of men, women, children, and the
elderly.  All of them the colors of deep ebony, caramel and varying shades
of brown.  Even from a far distance away, and despite the reflective
surface of the tinted windows giving not even the smallest clue to the
identity of sedan's driver or possible passengers, they knew they were
being watched from the inside of the vehicle.  They could feel it in their
bones that whoever this newcomer was, this high collar big shot making a
big show of his arrival, he was well aware of their existence.  And as they
drove by they knew whoever it was was appraising them from behind the pitch
black glass, drawing some unknowable conclusion about them.
   When the caravan traversed uptown and into the greater area of Coxville
where it's predominantly non-black population dwelled, the response was
very much the same.  Onlookers watched the precession of trucks - most
closely paying attention to the sedan - from their home windows, from in
front of their markets and underneath the awnings of various shops and
proprietary establishments.  It was curiosity, excitement, and a few
glances hinting of apprehension when the black car drove by.  And just like
the residents of N-Town, the Coxvillian community felt the gaze of the
vehicle's concealed driver/s.  It was the same...yet with a single unspoken
element to a select audience.  For many of the women of uptown Coxville, a
beautiful and healthy stock bred of to what many cited as the highest
caliber to be found in the western world, there were scant traces of there
being something...more behind the veiled windows.
   The unseen leer held and played about with the women's senses, and the
symptoms teased them silently.  Hairs suddenly stood on end for no
discernible reason.  Heartbeats quickened despite the fact they were
strolling down the street at no more than a casual pace.  The slightest
wave of anticipation spiked for the briefest of moments inside their round
and plentiful chests, which (for some unknowable reason) grew goose flesh,
causing their nipples to turn into tight pink buds beneath their clothing.
   It was the strangest thing that was never spoken aloud, nor made
reference to by those experiencing the phenomena.  The event explored no
further to the casual distaff observer than that of a whimsical well that
was strange.
   ...
   "Now what in the Sam hill's all this?" asked Cletus McGuire, the
fifty-something year old convenience shop owner.  He stood behind his
cashier's counter, an older Caucasian man with a round face and an even
rounder midsection.
   "Looks like someone new's movin into town", replied Todd White from the
other side of the counter, a coke and a bag of chips in his hands.  In
almost complete contrast to the proprietor of the shop, Todd was a tall,
handsome and athletically built young man.  His chiseled facial features
slightly upturned in a look of curiosity flirting with smallest bit of
excitement as he and Cletus watched the mass of vehicles pass by the wide
circular shop window.
   "Movin in?" said Cletus, obviously perplexed and unaware.
   "You've been sittin behind that counter too long Cletus.  You gotta get
out more" replied Todd, a faint sigh of disappointment held in his breath.
   "I didn't hear anything about any new folks movin into Coxville, where
they headed?"
   "Oh, it's only been the main buzz in town for a little over two months
now." Said Todd with a faint grin and only somewhat gloating on the info he
sat upon.  Clearly the young man knew something the old man didn't, a small
display of power flexed before his elder.
   "Don't be a wise ass.  Some of us gotta work for a livin.  Not all of us
get to bask in the glory of our youth" said Cletus, only somewhat
begrudgingly.
   "They're headin to that new house", Todd yielded.  "You know, the one
they been building on that hill overlooking city hall."
   "Ah" barked Cletus in a slight recollection of the town notice that
there would be a busy construction crew doing various works on the land
nearer to the peak of town.  He'd noticed it, but only in the most fleeting
of degrees.  The man had a business to run after all.  "They were building
a house there?" Cletus' earlier confusion now replaced with a tone of
surprise.
   "Yeah..." said Todd, "You mean to tell me you didn't notice all the jack
hammering and pounding up the street for the last few weeks?"
   Cletus pondered it for a bit.  Sure he'd noticed, but again, the man had
a business to run.  "Hell I noticed the construction boy" Cletus barked
while turning somewhat red with Todd's snark.  "By the look and size of the
place I'd have just sworn they were making a new library or something."
   "Nope, it's a house, a huge one too..." replied Todd with a light
chuckle, "apparently some big shot from outta state bought the land and
decided to make it the spot for his new estate.  Few months back some fancy
suit contractors and a small army of builders rolled into town, been
working on it day and night ever since.  Looks like they finally finished
it."
   "Sheesh, all that fuss for some rich city prick tryin to settle into our
town?  Probably just another tourist tryin to do something drastic to stir
up his friends."
   "I dunno..." replied Todd a curious drawl.  "Rumor is the owner has
roots here."
   "Huh...how so?" said Cletus, now officially interested in the identity
of this new slick big city newcomer.
   "I dunno exactly, but that's what I hear.  Guys totally loaded too, I'm
talkin front page of Forbes and Fortune magazine loaded.  What I did hear
is that his family history somehow goes back about as far as..." he paused,
trying to recall the exact year he'd heard.  "I dunno, eighteen hundred
something..."
   "You don't say?" replied Cletus, the fat white fingers of his right hand
stroking one of several of his chins.  "Hmmm, now that got my ears perked
up... You know a lot of the families in Coxville been settled here since
the end of the 18th century?" Cletus straightened himself and grabbed at
the twin straps of his suspenders exclamatorily and with a beaming sense of
pride often found in denizens of the south.  "Yep, includin yours truly,
you've had McGuires, Murphy's, Andersons, Summers and such livin in
Coxville for as far back as the end of the Mexican War.  Startin from the
great war hero Phineas Cox himself, who was pretty tight with my family I
might a--."
   "Yeah" interrupted Todd, trying to cut the history lesson at the root
before Cletus worked himself into a rhythm.  "We learned all about that in
History class...must have been pretty exciting seeing things like cars and
paved roads getting built from nothing back then, eh Cletus?" teased Todd.
   "Now what did I just tell you about bein a wise ass son?" grumbled the
round older man.
   "Ha-ha, just kiddin around with you Cleet."
   "Yeah yeah...that'll be five bucks even Captain..." Shot Cletus,
referencing the chips and the soda sitting atop the counter.
   "Five bucks?!" said Todd, somewhat astonished with the price.  "You
raised the prices again?"
   "Afraid so son, you know the economy's slaying us right now.  The jokers
in the White House make up the rules, I just charge according to them."
   "Sigh..." came the young man as he reluctantly reached into his wallet
and slapped a folded five dollar bill on the counter.
   "Just call it a life lesson on the value of a dollar son." Said Cletus,
only a little condescendingly.
   A minute later Todd and Cletus gave their goodbyes, and Todd White
sauntered his way out the door, making light as best he could being five
dollars poorer.
   "You tell your daddy and that purdy mom a yours I said hello" called
Cletus.
   "She's not my mom" snapped Todd just before the door of the shop closed
behind him.
   ...
   "What a rip-off" grumbled Todd to himself as he took a swig of his soda
and made his way down the main street that led to his house.  "The value of
a dollar?  Psh yeah, guess he'd know, considering back in his day money
came in the form of sheep and coon skin caps."
   Todd walked at an even pace down the streets and around the bends of
Coxville, the strange red sun looming above him in its preparation to
settle into evening behind the hills.  The odd nature and hue was noted
only secondarily to the young man while in his frustration.  Todd wasn't so
sore about the price of his items, as much as he was the biting nickname
Cletus had given him beforehand.  Captain.
   The nickname stabbed at Todd's nerves and grated at his pride.  Cletus,
the old prick.  He knew that Todd was still more than a bit sore at the
fact he'd just recently been replaced on his high school football team. 
His team, the Coxville Cocks, was in the midst of what many natives called
ared hot winning streak.  A winning streak that, much to Todd White's
immense dismay, was being led by not him, but by one Samson West.  Todd's
teeth gritted as he tugged at the bag of chips.  (Old prick) thought Todd
as he rounded the corner that led to the line of lavish suburban homes
making up the neighborhood he lived in.
   Cletus knew that not long ago Todd had been passed over as team captain.
This happened not long at all after the Cocks, in a stunning upset victory,
had outright decimated their long-time rivals the Bartown Beavers.  It was
a decisive win for Coxville high, though one that had left the now seething
Todd more than a little bit bitter.  Todd hadn't quite believed it himself,
even when it was happening and his teammates hooted and hollered as they
lifted Samson onto their shoulders in celebration instead of him. 
Admittedly the young man's mind, at the time, had been preoccupied
on...other triumphs that were supposed to have come to him that night.  The
descriptive version being: the long anticipated and much sought after
victory blowjob Todd had been promised by his now ex-girlfriend Kitty
Summers.  And therein lay the rest of the poison eating away at Todd White.
The young man's lost position on the team was only exacerbated by his being
dumped (like a hot rock) by the young smoking hot blonde cheerleader. 
Kitty was - by official decree of both peers and the subtle nod of elders -
a total knockout.  A little blonde bombshell whose stunning looks,
incredible athletic body and perfect round rack made her a prize piece in
Coxville in much the way Todd figured movie stars were in Hollywood. 
Reminiscing on Kitty's beauty only swatted at a fresh wound.  A wound only
made worse when word finally came to him that Kitty was now dating Samson,
his replacement, mere days after she'd unceremoniously dumped him.  She
hadn't given him a reason, but Todd had his suspicions that Samson and
Kitty had made their coupling `more than official' even before the gossip
gaggle at school had even received a remote scent of the affair.
   It beyond burned Todd up to think that those big round tits, taut bubble
butt and incredible mouth was likely being used freely by that jerk West.
They'd been - more or less - friendly to each other up to that point, even
if Samson was black.  Their friendly rivalry on the field had made them
appropriately jovial to one another.  But now all the competitive jeers and
aggressive one lines had turned to outright conflict between Todd and the
Negro.  It was an insult that he just couldn't bring himself to let go of.
Sure, Todd had been able to offset the burn slightly by dating Pamela,
another cheerleader of stunning beauty in her own right.  But even that
fell head first off the wagon when, in no uncertain terms, Pamela had
dumped him as well...this time via text message.
   Outright Todd had accused her of being just another title rider, a
groupie for whoever sat on the higher social rung of Coxville high's totem.
The thought of being burned by not just one, but two of Coxville's hottest
girls shook him, almost as much as his demotion on the team.  Todd's
father's mantra of being the best or being simply forgotten rang
continually in his head in the wake of all the drama.  And Todd stewed on
it the whole way home.  He'd been so caught up in his silent brooding that
he hardly noticed he'd been steadily eating his chips the entire time until
his fingers grazed the bottom of the bag.
   At the same time Todd realized this, he'd also noticed he had made his
way back home.  His broad and lavish two story suburban that his father,
the big businessman, had reminded him time and again to be grateful for. 
It's not that Todd was actively ungrateful for the house and privileges he
was given...he just didn't really know how to express gratitude for what
he'd figured to be the norm.  Todd and his father never did see eye to eye
on things like that.  This gap in their understanding of one another was
only made worse after she arrived.  As Todd made his way up the block, he
noticed there was a black car sitting on the curb in front of his house. 
Weird, Todd thought.  It wasn't his fathers.  Even if based on a whim he'd
have heard from his father any intent to go out and buy a new car.  It was
a familiar vehicle, and one that Todd soon identified as the one that had
passed by them while he was Cletus' not a half hour prior.
   No way that could be right though, thought Todd.  The newcomer to town
wouldn't have been in his neighborhood.  He'd have been - as far as Todd
would have thought - far too busy with running the stampede of trucks about
a mile back in the town proper.  Todd took the time to inspect the car from
a distance as he walked up to his house.  Same vehicle, a jet black sedan
with tinted windows.  He rounded the car, taking in how pristine it was. 
Todd risked taking a closer look at the automobile, tilting his head closer
to one of the further windows.  He couldn't get a clear view of the car's
interior, and only his curious reflection starred back him as he tried
cupping a hand to see inside.
   And before his eyes could focus, Todd White felt a sudden chill run up
his spine.  He couldn't ignore the abrupt flex of surprise at the sensation
of feeling that - for some unknown reason - he was being watched.  He
looked up from the car and spied the expanse of the block.  No one was
around, no one nearby to scold him for snooping on someone else's property.
But all the same, the piercing feeling of eyes upon him continued.  It made
his heartbeat quicken a bit.  A foreboding wave passed through him.  Is
someone inside the car?  Todd thought.  It would have made sense, but the
silence in the immediate area and the car itself hinted of otherwise.  If
someone was inside the black vehicle looking back at Todd, they made no
effort whatsoever to acknowledge his presence or their being aware of his
curiosity, and they made not the slightest sound to portray their presence.
The feeling gave Todd the creeps, standing near the jet black car left him
ill at ease.  Todd stepped away from the car and headed for his house.
   His dad should be home by now.  She would most definitely be waiting for
him inside, what with her being strictly a housewife and all.  Likely
waitin to bitch at me about something, he thought.  Todd dug in his pockets
in search of his house key as he crossed the picket fence and traversed
across the front lawn.  He'd just gotten a hold of the key ring when the
front door of his house swung open abruptly of its own volition, revealing
a sight that altogether made Todd's heart pause and stutter in his chest.
   ...
   "Oh!" came the somewhat startled noise from the astonishingly beautiful
brown skinned goddess who was - for some thoroughly strange reason -
walking out of Todd's house.  "Excuse me..." she said in a low sultry
breath that instantly made Todd's nerves coo with pleasure.
   Now Todd White had never found himself actively attracted to black women
in the past.  Save perhaps Stacy Brown, the dark skinned hottie on the
cheerleading squad who all the guys on the team agreed had a body that was
built for fucking.  Todd quickly amended this thought upon apprising this
new woman, who Todd was certain he'd never seen before.
   She was a perfect five foot nine, had flawless rich brown skin, high
cheeks bones, full luscious lips, a cutely shaped nose that held none of
the strong African hints he'd equated to most black people, and she wore
her hair in a short straight pixie cut that held a permanent gloss.  Her
set of gorgeous facial features could have placed as anywhere from her late
twenties to her early thirties, and were punctuated by a large pair of
mesmerizing dark brown eyes that, Todd strangely noticed, somehow seemed
older than the sum of her bountiful parts.  Todd had went in reverse of the
typical man's appraisal of the human body.  He starred startled at this new
woman's face.  His jaw all but dropped to ground upon spying the rest of
her.
   The woman's body was something out of a comic book featuring
super-powered vixens and flawlessly built super-heroines.  Her firm legs
trailed upward to reveal a wide set of gorgeous shapely hips - the promise
and curve of a bountiful ass resting behind her - that only barely kept
themselves contained in the tight fitting black skirt she wore.  The tight
fitting blue blouse tucked into the skirt showed her to have a slim taut
waist just before expanding outward to tease the image of the two huge pert
breasts tucked firmly beneath the fabric.  If Stacy Brown had a body built
for fucking, then this woman's body was made for making men cum.
   Growing up in a town like Coxville, a man became well versed in what
made an immaculate pair of tits, whether he actively sought to or not. 
He'd fanaticized on near countless occasions about getting a mouth and
handful of Jenny Summers' -- his ex-girlfriends smoking hot mom - legendary
rack.  Her breasts were the living definition of big and round.  The ones
that slightly bounced before him in a start right now however, rivaled even
the ones belonging to Mrs.  Summers.
   "And...this must be your son Todd" said the woman.
   "Yep" came a man's voice from behind the ebony goddess.  "That's my boy
Todd."
   "Well, it's certainly a pleasure to meet you Todd" said the goddess. 
"Your father was simply beaming while talking about you earlier."
   "Uh--" was the only audible response Todd found himself capable of
giving, entranced at the sight of the woman before him.
   "Todd, not be rude, say hello!" came another voice from behind Todd's
dark skinned queen.  The voice was a sharp tin in the air, carried with a
thick Russian accent that Todd had come to hate, but contradictively found
himself aroused by.
   When Todd finally came to sorts with where he was and who stood before
him, he shook himself into good enough sense to give a stammering "h-hi..."
to this new woman who he - with no degree of uncertainty - was bound to
masturbate to at the earliest opportunity.
   Todd was able to tear himself away from gazing at this new beauty long
enough to peer at the open threshold of the house.  Inside the interior
hallway stood Todd's father, Tom White.  At a little more than six feet
tall, Tom White physically looked identical to his son, if aged by twenty
years or so.  He wore a plain white button shirt, black tie and matching
slacks.  Standing next to Tom was - in a silent cringe of realization to
Todd - was his `step-mother' (emphases of step) Anya.  Anya stood at
five-nine, and had long raven hair that trailed down to near the middle of
the curved shape of her back, a frame almost as shapely as the black woman
standing in front of him.  Anya fit right in among the females of Coxville,
with large round double D breasts and a bubble butt that many would have
sword was home grown in the south.  Her deep almond eyes always seemed to
be turned into a glare at the young White, a trait that Todd found to be of
both disdain and (by Todd's own admission) an undeniable attractiveness.
   Todd and Anya had never gotten along.  From minute one of her arrival to
Coxville they'd both succeeded in rubbing each other the wrong way, with
Todd rubbing himself the right way to thoughts of her in secret.  Hatred
aside, it could not be denied or mistaken that Anya was - by all means - a
goddess in her right aesthetic right.  Her hourglass hips, perfectly toned
body and gorgeous European facial features made her stand out amongst the
other beauties of Coxville almost as much as her accent did.  I guess she'd
better be as hot, Todd thought on many occasions, considering how much
money my old man shelled out to get her here... Todd had thought to himself
so often that now the phrase almost seemed like a tiny mantra.  Stunningly
beautiful as Anya was, to Todd she acted like nothing short of a cold hard
bitch.  At every opportunity Anya voiced some new complaint or grievance
with Todd's `attitude', which she made known on every opportunity she
didn't care for.  An ignored request here, and spurned flex of parental
authority there, and the two had gradually found themselves in a domestic
tumult that was to be sounded from both sides, with Tom being the sole
force in the center keeping all-out war from engulfing the White household.
   "Todd, this is..." Tom began before trailing off somewhat.  "I'm so
sorry, I'm terrible with names, Miss..."
   That's weird, thought Todd.  He'd never seen his father act so
apologetic remembering a name before.  As a businessman he'd told Todd time
and again that someone's who name you can't remember must not be one worth
remembering.  As Whites our brains take in only the information we know is
essential in our enhanced development, everything else...is empty
calories.Todd found a flaw with that line of thinking, but didn't want to
probe deeper into what that flaw was.  This nameless woman standing in his
doorway however, Todd most definitely wanted to probe, in more ways than
one.
   "It's fine" she said with a light giggle.  "I've found I rather like
being anonymous in certain situations.  Like taking on the role of the
mysterious benefactor almost."
   Todd gnawed at this idea for a moment.  How could anyone not remember a
body like that, he thought.  "Adela" the woman then said, revealing a
gorgeous smile shone with flawless white teeth.  "Adela Laveau."
   Adela, thought Todd.  The name sang in his brain.
   "Right, of course..." Tom replied.  If Todd didn't know any better, he'd
have sworn his father was blushing at that moment.  "Miss Laveau is the
assistant for Alexander Brooks" Tom exclaimed to Todd, the woman's status
and pedigree obviously having left his father more than a bit impressed.
   "Brooks..." said Todd curiously, almost tasting the word when said out
loud.  He'd heard the name plenty over the last few weeks.  It had been
dropped in questioning whispers and curious murmurs amongst many of
Coxville's citizens.  No one knew much about him aside from the fact the
guy was reported as being insanely rich, and was made famous for the
mysterious background and taciturn lifestyle as much as - if not moreso -
his broad endeavors in the corporate world.
   "Yes" continued Adela.  "Mr.  Brooks just moved into the county today."
   "Yeah, I noticed the trucks" replied Todd, trying to press down his
nervousness around Miss Laveau and engage in conversation that spanned
further than monosyllables.  "Those were his huh?"
   "Indeed.  Mr.  Brooks is very excited about moving into your fine town,
and he hopes there was wasn't too much of a ruckus made with his arrival."
   "Yeah, I noticed all the construction too.  Those guys were working
really hard on it."
   "That they were, and we're very pleased with the results.  I hope it
wasn't too much of a disturbance for you" said Miss Laveau, a seemingly
genuine lilt of concern in her tone.
   "Oh, no no, not at all!" belted Todd, who immediately noticed his
stammer had returned upon Miss Laveau directly addressing him, and realized
his stymied manner of speech at the woman's beauty was just as bad as his
father's.  "I uh, I think it's cool that we have someone new moving in."
   "I'm very glad to hear it.  Mr.  Brooks is very adamant about making the
community feel comfortable with his arrival.  A smooth transition is what
he aims for."
   Todd noticed Miss Laveau's accent.  It was southern, but didn't carry
the strong drawl that he noticed came in many black people's speech in the
state.  Instead it was a dainty, eloquent and silky tambour.  This sexy
sister most definitely wasn't from around here.
   "Mr.  Brooks is throwing a little get together at his estate next week"
Tom then said, holding up a rectangular piece of tailored paper that was -
from Todd's angle - engraved with something.  A hand-written invitation by
the look of it.
   "Yes" said Miss Laveau agreeably, "just a little party we're having to
give him an opportunity to meet and greet a few of the people of note in
town."
   "And we've been invited!" chimed Tom, almost beaming at the mere thought
of being a `person of note' in Mr.  Brooks' eyes.  Anya simply stood next
to her husband, a wide smile on her face that came nowhere near her eyes
when settled on Todd.
   "Cool..." Todd said plainly.  "Can't wait..."
   "Adult only Todd!" said Anya, her pronunciation of `Todd' coming out as
`Tood'.  Todd sneered inside, but kept his gaze pleasant while on Adela.
   "Lame..."he said simply.
   "I'm sorry dear" Adela said warmly, a more than comforting smile aimed
directly at Todd.  "This party in particular I'm afraid is aimed at a
more...adult audience.  But, this is only one of several meetings we've got
planned.  Mr.  Brooks intends to meet everyone in Coxville in due time. 
He's a particular eye on the town's youth.  Always on the lookout for young
potential."
   "You hear that Todd" said Tom.  "Mr.  Brooks is on the lookout for new
talent.  Great opportunity for you if he notices you."
   "I'm sure Mr.  Brooks will be delighted meeting you" Adela then said. 
For a split second Todd felt a little impressed with himself.  He hadn't
tried hard, but apparently he'd left a good impression on the hot assistant
of the town's new and insanely rich neighbor.  The wind from the young
man's sails immediately left him however when Adela added -
   "Delighted meeting all of you..." And if Todd noticed Miss Laveau's gaze
settle on Anya's for perhaps a moment longer than what would have been
deemed polite, he didn't say as such.
   Adela straightened herself and headed passed Todd out from the threshold
of the White home.  As she stepped passed Todd, he caught the slightest
scent of her from a faint idle breeze on the coming night air.  An
intoxicating aroma of light perfume that Todd - for the death of him -
couldn't place, but found himself uncontrollably attracted to.  He felt the
threat of an erection tug at his underpants upon the simple grazing of
their bodies as Miss Laveau's shoulder brushed against his.
   "Well, I'd best be on my way.  There's still quite a few invitations
I've left to hand out before tomorrow."
   "You're handing them out door to door?" asked Todd in a fleeting attempt
to keep Miss Laveau around for just a bit longer.
   "Oh yes" replied Adela matter-of-factly.  "Mr.  Brooks wouldn't have it
any other way.  He prefers interpersonal and...hands on approaches to these
kinds of matters."
   "I see" interjected Tom.  "Man sounds efficient, gotta respect that. 
Does Mr.  Brooks have any particular preference of wine Miss Laveau?  I
figure it would only be polite to bring something to the party."
   "Oh, please Mr.  White" replied Adela, seeming almost charmed at the
gesture.  "Everything involving refreshments and entertainment has already
been arranged.  You just need to bring your handsome self, and of course
your lovely wife...Anya was it?"
   Tom's and Anya's faces both immediately flushed.  Todd was three seconds
away from concluding Miss Laveau just had that effect on everyone she met.
   "Y-yes, Anya" confirmed the raven haired Russian.  "And pleasure to meet
you Miss Laveau", the name 'Laveau' coming out as "Lu-vou"
   "Great, can't wait" added Tom.
   Todd hadn't noticed, but the three of them had unconciously followed
Adela all the way to her car.  The red afternoon sky had finally settled
into a hazy twilight when the passenger door of the black car opened.  So
that was her car, pondered Todd.  Or, the car she was given to hand out Mr.
Brook's invitations.  Todd hadn't noticed the huge bald headed black man at
the wheel until Adela was sliding into the passenger side of the vehicle,
her long lean leg stretching out from the curb and settling herself inside.
Todd suddenly felt a little embarrassed upon realizing he was most likely
staring at the driver like a goon during his earlier examination of the
black car.
   "Neither can I Mr.  White..." Adela then said, her award winning smile
framing her immaculate brown features.
   And without another word, the tinted black window slowly began to roll
up, erasing Miss Laveau's face in a span of inches before disappearing
completely behind a sheet of impenetrable darkness.  The car came to life
and then began to roll down the street at an even pace to the next lucky
household, the noise of the engine secluded to only a moderate hum.  Todd,
Tom and Anya White waved at the charming Miss Laveau and the car as it
faded in the distance.  Tom White beamed at the thought of being invited to
the party of Coxville's newest and most wealthy citizens.  Todd silently
rejoiced at the thought of masturbating to the beyond sexy Miss Adela
Laveau.  And Anya...for reasons she didn't even understand, fought down
what must have been an odd sort of heat flash.  A mysterious anticipatory
tingle that echoed in her body and in her bones that seemed to grow inside
her the minute she'd gotten within a certain distance of the black car. 
And if the sensation bore a striking resemblance to the ones experienced
earlier that day by the other white beauties of Coxville County, well, Anya
White would have had no real way of knowing.
   "Ohma GAWD Mr.  White!" Adela moaned in her silky tinted voice.  "Who'da
thought you were hiding such a big white cock from me!"
   Todd lay flat on his back, arms folded behind his head comfortably, a
confident smile framing his lips as he appraised his sexy black bitch's
efforts.
   "You can call me Todd", he replied.  "As long as you keep up that pace
and get all of my cock into that hot chocolate pussy of yours..."
   Miss Laveau rocked herself harder on top of his cock.  She'd shake his
bed from side to side, forwards and backwards, all the while bouncing her
beautiful round rump on top his vanilla meat.  The dream often came to a
head whenever Todd would say,
   "Todd!" came Adela's voice.
   "You can do better than that Miss Laveau" he replied, just before using
his hand to pull Adela all the way down onto the remaining few inches of
his hard unit.
   "OH MY GOD, SO BIG!!" she'd bellow aloud, just before shaking herself
into what appeared to be a crippling orgasm.
   This in turn would trigger Todd to near a climax as well with each
thrust.
   "OH TODD, TODD, TOOOODD!"
   Mere moments before Todd could reach his own happy ending however, his
climax was halted by the odd change that had occurred in Adela's voice.  It
was no longer the sultry croon of her New Orleans accent, but the foreign
belt of Anya's thick Russian one.  Coming from his brown skinned goddess,
the voice didn't sound right at all.  It threw off his rhythm, and caused
Todd's penis - a normal six inches in reality - to immediately soften in
his hand.
   "Todd!  Won't ask again, up!" Yelled Anya from downstairs.
   The baying lilt of Anya's voice came from outside his room, her accent
turning his name into a long winded "Toood".  "Todd, wake up!  You will be
late for schooling again!"
   Todd White lay in bed, his eyes half crusted over with the remnants of
his sleep.  Anya wouldn't have had any way of knowing the young man had
already been awake for the last ten minutes.  His left hand buried
underneath his covers, tugging fiercely at the rock hard erection that
slightly teepeed his comforter.  This had been about the sixth time that
morning Todd had had a go at himself.  From one AM the previous night, Todd
White had been pleasuring himself at wavering intervals.  Waking up
randomly with thoughts of the simply delicious Miss Adela Laveau dancing
about in his mind.
   He'd stroke himself hardily to mental images of miss Laveau's big round
chocolate tits bouncing in front of his face.  Motion captures of her
shapely brown hips thrusting and gyrating on top of his hard -- `foot long'
-- cock.
   Todd would stroke himself harder to the image of her bending over, her
long lithe legs stretching and pulling with each pump he'd give her.  He'd
been at this non-stopped for more than a week now, and the visual still
hadn't failed to make him nut.  Provided Todd's royal bitch of a stepmother
didn't set a flame to whole fantasy with her constant yelling.
   "Fuck!" cursed Todd, his fantasy dashed.
   In that place between his dreams and in the confines of his warm bed,
Todd White reigned as a sexual tyrannosaurus.  In his fantasies he was a
man who women begged to please with every hole they had to offer.  In his
fantasies he had a cock the size of a Pringles can that made even the black
guys on his football team green around the gills.  And in his fantasies,
making women tremble with thunderous toe-curling orgasms came as easy as
breathing.  And Anya, his nominal stepmother, had decimated his kingdom
with but the mere shrill of her voice.  Todd was fully awake now, back in
the real world where he was bitter, bitchless and going to bat with nothing
remotely close to the amount of wood he had had been making Miss Laveau
slide up and down on in his mind.
   "Fuck!" Todd repeated, pulling himself out of bed and staggering about
his room in search of clothes to wear.
   Ten minutes later, Todd had - somehow - fumbled into a pair of clean
blue jeans and a fresh maroon colored t-shirt, close to the shade of his
team colors.  Todd went about fixing his hair, brushing his teeth and
appraising himself in the mirror.  For what it was worth, he was quite
impressed with what he saw.  Young, handsome, physically in the prime of
his youth.  He forced a smile and made his way downstairs, his backpack
draped over one shoulder.  The smile melted away upon catching glimpse of
his stepmother in the kitchen.
   "Todd, I told you to settink alarm last night.  I tired of wakink you
every mornink."
   No `good morning Todd', no `I made you breakfast sweetheart', nothing
even close to what a mother, a real mother, would say to her son first
thing in the morning.  No, with Anya, it was always bitching.  Every
morning began with some new complaint or half-hearted order from her.  Todd
sneered as he walked passed her, her taut body concealed in her thinly
layered silk morning robe.  Todd hated Anya, but god did he love her body.
Even when covered, his Russian step-mother's physique oozed sexuality. 
Women in Coxville were world renowned for their beauty, taut healthy
bodies, and - most famous - their incredible breasts.  Anya hit the mark in
all three departments, even despite being a foreigner.  She fit right into
the fold in way of looks among the females in Coxville.  Her dark almond
eyes only made the point hit that much harder between his legs.
   The only thing that perhaps set her apart from any of the other women in
town was that accent of hers.  Todd understood what she was saying more
often than not.  But sometimes, during particularly annoying reprimands,
Todd couldn't resist entertaining the desire to appease his inner redneck
and tell the twenty-something mail order bride, at the top of his lungs
"THIS IS A'MERICA, SPEAK A'MERICAN BITCH!" He never did say that outright
though.  Todd was still coming to grips with the idea that - technically -
this woman was supposed to be acting as his mother.  It was hard taking
someone so sexy that seriously though, especially when you heard her
moaning and groaning from your dad porking her every other night.  Whenever
Anya went and got all fired over something Todd did (or didn't) do, he
could never bring himself to really pay attention, as he would be too
occupied watching her pert tits heave and bounce with her winded rants.
   "Yeah yeah" replied Todd bluntly.  "Relax, I just forgot."
   "No forget" Anya shot back.  "You forget last week already, and week
before.  You just not listenink."
   Todd passed her, not stirring so much as an eyebrow at the accusation,
and made a big show of paying the open refrigerator more attention than
her.
   "See, you're doink it right now Todd.  Purposely ignorink me!  Your
father -"
   "My father!  Todd interrupted flatly, not even bothering to turn his
head to the dark haired woman.  "Believe it or not, makes a pretty regular
habit of not `listenink' to you whenever you start complaining over stupid
stuff too." And the only time he does listen is when he wants to get
between your legs, he added silently.  It's just something us Americans do
when we start hearing crap we don't like.  You'll get used to it."
   "Complain?  Anya replied, disgust and all the signs of being taken aback
held in her voice.  "Complain?!  Anya does not complain.  I orderink!  You
settink alarm every day from now on, without my wakink you.  AND -"Anya
added with an exclamatory finger raised, "you're cleanink out attic, like
your father tell you to three week ago!"
   "What?!?  Todd exclaimed, closing the refrigerator with an audible slam
and coming away with a carton of milk.
   "Bozhe moi " replied Anya in a frustrated sigh.  English wasn't too hard
for the Russian beauty to speak, but whenever excited or worked into a
flustered state, she tended to revert back to her native dialect.  I
say--".
   "I heard what you said" Todd cut off, rather rudely.  "And I'm gonna ask
you the same thing I asked my old man, why the hell do I have to clean out
HIS attic?  It just has a bunch of HIS old stuff, and YOUR old crap from
Russia?"
   "Crap?" Anya said in a lower snarl, one of her hands actually showing
the makings of a fist.  If Todd didn't know any better, he'd have sworn she
was getting ready to deck him one.  "Crap?!  Anya's beloninks not CRAP! 
They are Anya's personal keepsakes from Russia!"
   "All the more reason for you to go in there and organize them yourself,
don't ya think?" Replied Todd with a cutting smirk and a long swig out of
the carton of milk.  More than anything, he'd done it because he knew Anya
HATED when people drank straight out of the carton.
   "Is not point Todd.  Your father told you to be doink it, not ANYA, you!
Instead of complain, why not simply do what you are told?"
   "Why?  Because it's not my crap.  And instead of complaining, I maintain
a simple policy; Not my `crap', not my problem" he replied defiantly.
   Anya's face turned a deeper shade of red in response.  Todd, her
arrogant and spoiled little prick of stepson, was in rare form this
morning.
   "ARGH, you either clean, or your father make you clean."
   "Oh, so you're gonna try to narc on me now?"
   "No narkink, but I will tell Tom, who will MAKE you clean."
   Anya didn't know that the phrase `narc' meant just that.  But rather
than explain, Todd simply chose to take one more giant swig out of the milk
carton, set it down hard onto the island table in the kitchen, grabbed his
backpack, and exited the room with a finalizing,
   "Whatever!"
   Todd could practically feel the heat burning into his back from Anya's
doubtless glare of hate, and couldn't fight off the smallest urge to smile
at himself as he exited through the front door and left the house for
school.  This chalked as a genuine - if small - victory against his Russian
bitch of a stepmother.  She doubtless would run to his dad and demand he
have her back, which Tom most likely would if Anya teased the idea of
revoking all privileges to her body.  Todd would worry about it later. 
Whatever, he repeated to himself, just before replacing the thought of Anya
yelling at him, with a mental picture of her AND Miss Laveau sharing both
ends of his `white twelve inch cock' with both of their full lipped mouths.
   ...
   Anya White went about cleaning the kitchen wearing a rosy red face of
near rage.  She scrubbed at the small pile of white dishes with the
ferocity of someone who seemed more likely to break them than get them
clean.  The intensity of her scrubbing was so fierce it caused her pert
round bubble butt to giggle cutely in a small rhythm as result.  If it was
one thing the dark haired Russian hated, it was being dismissed.  Her
ingrate of a stepson Todd had done so BIG TIME this morning.  Storming off,
mocking her authority, defiant in every way possible.  But despite even her
frustration towards the boy, a part of her didn't hold him entirely to
blame for his behavior.  Anya's husband, Tom, had a very similar habit of
walking off haughtily after brushing off what she had to say.  The son had
seen the father treat her as such on numerous occasions, and - like most
young men - taken to mimicking the elder male's traits.  Both the White men
in her home just had to have the last word on everything, even if they were
dead wrong in the matter.
   Anya eventually (through some miracle) managed to finish the dishes
without reducing any to broken shards.  She went about picking up the
abandoned carton of milk Todd had left on the small island table in the
center of the kitchen, shaking it lightly in her hand and hearing the minor
dregs slosh about inside before throwing the article away.  Thereafter she
proceeded doing her daily chores around the house.  Anya's natural alarm
clock usually found her waking up at just after dawn.  It was a point of
evidence to show that Anya - even despite having long left her small native
town in Russia - was still an early riser.  A `doch iz Cherniderivo' to
this day, she thought, an inside joke that translated to `daughter of
Cherniderivo'.  Cherniderivo was the name of Anya's home town.
   Cherniderivo was a small (emphasis on small) farming community located
in the rural lands of Eastern Europe.  More secluded and far situated
compared to even the scarce arctic denizens of Verkhoyansk of the Sakha
Republic, Cherniderivo maintained a population no larger than 1200 people.
Anya had figured the population size hadn't changed much since her
departure to America several years ago.  A `daughter of Cherniderivo' was
the endearing nickname given to most of the young women in her town.  From
early on in her youth, Anya, along with her two sisters - Katerina her
elder, and Sonya, her younger - had loved being called as such by their
town's elder women, or (the slightly less formal term) `babushkas'.
   As Anya went about cleaning the White home with a mix of speed and an
almost supernatural efficiency, she drifted back on her life before moving
to this hot southern town.  She recalled waking up with the first glimmers
of the sunrise to help her sisters tend the `kopobas' .  Feeding them,
tending their barn and so forth.  It was a grueling process, but one that
Anya reveled in doing in youth before going off to school.  Recalling that
and then comparing her morning routine to Todd's only reaffirmed her stout
hatred of the boy.
   "Get used to it!  Sleepkink in!  Anya grumbled to herself out loud while
scrubbing at the bits of grit and remnants of food that had been burned
into the stove by Todd the previous day.  "When I his age, I not even have
luxury of sleepink in.  Not even know what `sleepink in' meant" she
murmured to the ether.  Her ungrateful, rude little prick of a stepson
acted like the request of waking himself up at a decent hour was demanding
he cross the Alps bare-assed.  It was purely appalling how spoiled the boy
was.  American children had proven to be every bit as spoiled and bratty as
the babushkas back home had warned her they'd be.  Their puffed up
arrogance and whiny complaints towards anything resembling hard work, it
was enough to make Anya ill.
   She cleaned the kitchen, living room, bathroom and her bedroom to the
point of spotless.  Anya had made it a personal creed within the first few
weeks of living with Todd to never clean his room.  She completed all this
within just about an hour, leaving neither grit nor speck of dust in her
plush home.  As a housewife it came with the territory, and Anya was a
natural when it came to efficiency.
   When she was done, she went upstairs to her bedroom and stripped out of
her silk morning robe.  Now, when Anya White - formerly Anya Cherninov -
first arrived in Coxville, it daunted many of the native folk when Tom
first introduced her.  Though carrying a definite air of elsewhere European
origin that made her stand out, while looking at the curvy and very much
well-endowed Russian - ex-model Tom would beamingly add - one would never
have guessed the woman was an outsider.  Certainly women of beauty, grace,
elegance and mesmerizing physical prowess could be found in just about any
part of the modern world, but Anya's smooth surprisingly and surprisingly
mid-tanned skin, statuesque slim body frame, simply luscious curvy hips,
immaculately toned legs, flawless round bubble butt, gorgeous facial
features AND (last but definitely not least) symmetrically perfect round E
sized breasts made it hard to tell Anya was grown anywhere BUT Coxville
county.
   Tom's female friends beamed at her beauty, cooing with kindly phrases
like,
   "Oh my good lord Tom!  Now if she ain't just an angel straight from
heaven, I don't know what is!" and "You're gonna fit right in round these
parts sugar, I guarantee you that!  We'll have you speakin the language in
no time flat." All the while placing their hands appraisingly on her
shoulders and gently touching the cheeks of her face adoringly.
   Tom's male friends went about welcoming the woman with their own jovial
lines of,
   "Now if at any point you get tired of dealin with this old bum Tom here,
you feel free to give me a call, alright hon?", and usually came with an
accompanying wink and a (perhaps more than friendly) hand on the shoulder.
   "Sorry there Buddy", Tom would say in response, cutting in and wrapping
his arms around Anya's slim waist from behind, "This girl will be way too
taken care of to even give a joker like you a second thought."
   They'd all laugh, and by the look of them one would never even know Anya
wasn't from their small little nook town in the south.
   Naked, Anya was every bit a Coxville beauty as its own female natives
were.  Her body was a shapely flawless temple that would likely drive a
fair number of men in town in orgasm by just being in front of her bare
form, and - perhaps - adding a seductive line of < wanna fuck?  > in her
native tongue.  Her long inky black hair pooled to her back as she shed her
robe, and wafted lightly as she slid on a white tight fitting sports bra
and a matching pair of yoga pants.
   This was the part of the morning that Anya lived for.  Her own
efficiency in housekeeping, along with her habit of rising early each day
gave her a huge expanse of free time during the day.  During that time,
Anya would put in work on maintaining her devastatingly sexy figure. 
Jogging typically proved enough to keep the Russian beauty in shape, as
cardio came standard with most endeavors back home in Cherniderivo, and had
kept her lean most of her life.  When her spirit wasn't in the jogging sort
of mood (or simply not up to being ogled by the local men folk in the
neighborhood) she'd stay in and engage in a relaxing, though rigorous,
morning yoga workout.  Grabbing her purple yoga mat, Anya would head back
downstairs to the spacious and brightly sunlit living room.
   There she would engage in a wide variety of long stretching poses.  Her
arms lengthened out before her whilst standing with her body angled in a
warrior's pose.  Her left and right legs stretched wide in the air whilst
balancing herself on the balls and arches of her feet.  Anya bent on all
fours in the table, cat, cow and sunbird poses respectively.
   Anya rather enjoyed going through these particular motions.  She'd
noticed in the past the effect her pert round ass and cleavage of her large
beautiful breasts had on others when she was involved with a group of yoga
practioners at the local Olympian gym, and - while not openly accepting of
the attention - enjoyed seeing the jaws of onlookers drop at her perfect
form.  Anya sometimes went to the Olympian with her good friend Sammy
Spitzmen, who was a certified health nut by Anya's decree (along with
everyone else who knew the lively red head).  Sammy had tried on several
occasions to get Anya to join her in her intense physical workouts, but
Anya - forgoing the threat of being called dainty by the energetic ginger -
declined, choosing instead the peaceful but trying endeavors of stretching
and contorting her body.  The dark haired beauty turned out to be a natural
at the art.  The instructor of the class had to give her only minimal
instruction after only her second session, and Anya herself soon discovered
that she was naturally very flexible.
   Before she knew it, she was taking on advanced positions and poses as
though it were light work.  Both her legs spread wide in the splits of a
seated angle pose, her flexibility allowing her stomach could touch the mat
in front of her.  It was ability that the male members in her class were
very much enamored and appreciative of and the less astute women in
class...well...not so much.
   Anya breathed in an out as she shaped her body into the caterpillar
pose; a position of her lying face down, with her ass curled up as high as
possible towards the sky.  She breathed in when stretching her body out
into a long lithe curve in the cobra shape; where her lower body was strewn
straight while her upper body was tilted upwards, her bountiful chest being
pressed together hard between her evenly placed arms.  And she breathed out
while holding a long stance of - her class's favorite - downward dog.  Anya
loved yoga, the feeling of her muscles being stretched and tightened was
bliss to her body.  She went about this and an array of other poses until
she'd built up a good sweat.  When she finally finished about an hour or so
later, she strode back upstairs with her mat, stripped out of her pants and
now damp sports bra, and hopped into her large bathtub for a long luxurious
shower.
   The hot beads of water beat of her taut mid-tanned skin.  She lavished
in the heat and steam, all but forgetting the day's earlier unpleasantness
with her creep of a stepson.  As warm water trailed down her skin, bits of
water hitting and teasing her tightly budded pink nipples, Anya couldn't
shake the feeling of being incredibly horny.  I should have fucked Tom this
morning, she thought.  Anya and her husband Tom had sex on a fairly regular
basis.  More often than not she would awaken her brown haired hubby with a
sultry bit of `come hither' talk in Russian.  she would say, < Good morning
dear husband >, < Rise and Shine > she'd tease into his ear.  < Uh oh! 
Well, it looks like a part of you is wide awake > she'd coo, gently pulling
at the throbbing meat of the man's morning wood underneath the covers.
   She'd then climb atop her husband, and go about riding him with a skill
that seemed almost superhuman at times.  Cherniderivo had a strong
horseback riding culture.  One that Anya had taken part in since she was a
little girl, and was still putting to good use as a married woman of
twenty-seven years old.  It never took long for Tom to cum.  A few quick
pumps and a couple hard grinding motions from the sexy Russian vixen, and
Tom would squirm underneath her in a throaty moan of pleasure.  He'd spasm,
and she'd feel the few sparse drops of semen into her, and then she'd feel
the five hard inches of his erection soften and subside from her hot
insides.
   It never came close to getting Anya off physically, but the idea of
knowing she had her man wrapped around her finger in the bedroom filled her
a significant degree of confidence.  < Well, it feels like you enjoyed that
> she'd always say after ending him, and then rolling off her husband to
start the day.  Anya herself would never come until sometime after.  They'd
skipped this early morning romp this morning, and it left Anya feeling just
a bit ill at ease.  Like she had let something in her morning routine
unfinished.  Afterwards she had completed her yoga session and made herself
good and sweaty.
   Sliding two fingers into her smooth hairless pussy, Anya went to work on
herself in the shower.  She silently rubbed and prodded herself, her
bathroom and bedroom door wide open.  Noone was home, Tom and Todd would be
gone for hours, so she was free to enjoy this small bit of exposure.  Now,
Anya might have been perceived as a bit odd from her fellow Coxvillian
women for this next fact.  But when Anya masturbated, it was never to the
thought of other people.  Conversation with her friends Jenny, Ivana, Sammy
and - hell - even Bianca had proven to the dark Russian that typically
women had images of fanaticized partners.  She recalled Sammy confessing to
inappropriate fantasies about a certain young male pop singer,
   "If that boy were a few years older...hmmmhm!" she giggle.
   Anya recalled her other girlfriend Ivana Swallows confessing to having a
number of imaginary trysts with a particular handsome actor.  She couldn't
recall the name, Bradly -something-or-other.  Even Anya's closest friend
Bianca had cited as such in a murmured tone.  Anya however stood aside from
this practice.  She instead fanaticized about her yoga sessions.  She'd
recall the feeling of her muscles being stretched and pulled passed normal
in the caterpillar position.  She'd pause on the feeling and sensations of
being bent over, and tease herself with the desire to be manhandled by...no
one with any distinguishing features.  The self-image of Anya in downward
dog had always filled her with a near ravenous desire to be filled up.
   In the confines of her dreams and fantasies, she'd be naked on her yoga
mat, in any number of the more...suggestive yoga positions.  She'd execute
the poses in waiting for...something...someone to take her.  Her taut
bubble butt propped up high into the air in anticipation to be entered, to
be filled up...what was the expression she'd heard?  Filled up...balls
deep? The phrase made her moist as she slid her fingers deeper into
herself. Her fantasies had no active figure, no sexual archetype for her to
coast to an orgasm...not until recently that is.  Recently, Anya suddenly
found her once vacant wet-dreams to be a bit more populated.  When she
fantacized about being naked in the catapillar position now, her desire to
be filled up were more than answered.  A nameless, faceless figure - most
definitely a man - would then enter.
   He'd grab both sides of her hips with two huge strong hands, and hold
her in place as he slid the fat head of what had to have been the hugest
penis Anya could ever conceive existed on a man.  The fantasy would
continue with the anonymous stranger pushing an incredible number of fat
veiny inches into her, her face strained and panting from the trial while
she moaned and writhed uncontrollably in Russian, < IT'S SOOO GOOD!  IT'S
GOING SOOOO DEEP!  > And the man -- no distinguishing characteristics at
all to be seen of him in the darkness -- would reply (in Russian) < Balls
and all my dear, balls and ALL!  > as he shoved the remainder of his
inhumanly hung monster cock into her begging wet snatch.
   That caused Anya to squeal on her feet in the shower, as a cascade of
pleasure fell over her as though mixed with the hot water.  Her legs
quivered so hard she had to hold herself up using one of the rails of the
shower's interior.  For a full two minutes Anya stood shaking, rocked by
her own fingers and the memory of her anonymous shaded lover.  When she
finally calmed down, she exhaled deeply,
   "Bozhe moi!" she sighed.
   Anya would have the intense encounter in her mind for some time after
she'd finish showering.  Easily it was the most intense one she'd had yet.
She'd noticed they'd been getting progressively more and more pleasurable
in recent days, but...that had to have been the greatest one yet!  Anya
dried herself off slowly in the bathroom, almost in a trance at what had
transpired.  The greatest orgasm she'd had in...well...ever...and she
didn't even have a face to reference the triumph to.  All Anya had to her
name in recollection of the otherworldly affair...was the large mass of
pitch black shadow making up her lover's strong mysterious and almost
supernaturally perfect form, and the intense satisfaction of her nameless
lover's massive phantasmal cock venturing deep (balls deep) into her...
   To Be Continued.
   
  
The Housewives of Coxville County