Oreo
(subtitled: The Ultimate Surrender)

-- by lightswitch © October 2008

[F/F, M/F, reluctant/forced, white female, black female, black
male, interracial, anal, smothering, near-snuff, enslavement]

===========
Synopsis: Some young neighbors find themselves coming between an
arguing black couple --literally.
===========


“Like hell you sticking that thing in *me*!” came a man’s
indignant shout, drifting through our open window.

Mandy, my red-haired roommate, ignored the interruption and kept
talking to Priscilla, my other roommate.

“No way, Prissy!” Mandy said, turning back to her book. “All
three of us have been working like dogs all summer, staying in
the office until evening … and we have the pale complexions to
prove it.”  Mandy was a spunky 24-year-old, very cute, with
beautiful red-hair that framed her heart-shaped face. She was
quite petite, at about 5’1” and her pert A-cup breasts didn’t
need a bra.

Mandy did have a point: Her skin was a smooth, beautiful white …
like porcelain.  Then again, none of us had seen more than a few
minutes of sun all summer, due to overtime, and we were *all* as
white as sheets.

Priscilla was having none of it, though.

“Exactly why we should go sunbathing in the backyard!” my lovely
blonde roommate urged.  Priscilla had long, honey-blonde hair
that she wore straight and parted in the middle.  Prissy was
absolutely gorgeous, but unfortunately, she knew it.  At  5’2”,
she was about an inch shorter than me, but had the most
incredible figure!  Her full breasts were disproportionate to her
petite frame and her tiny blue bikini top was barely able to
contain them. Her big, milky orbs threatened to spill out every
time she moved. I was half-surprised that they didn’t burst the
tiny bit of fabric holding them at bay.

“Look at Cindy!” Priscilla tried to coax Mandy, pointing to me.
“She’s almost as pale as you and she’s ready to do something
about it!”  I tugged uncomfortably at my black bikini top.  It
was more modest than Priscilla’s, but still showed a lot more
skin – and a lot more of my own C-cup breasts -- than I was
comfortable with.  Still .. that was what I’d need if I wanted to
go sunbathing … and it wasn’t like anyone was going to see us, in
our own backyard.

“Well you *sure* as hell ain’t stickin’ *that* thing in *me*!”
came a woman’s indignant shout, from next door.

It was our neighbors, the Joneses.

Fighting again.

I sighed in resignation, blushing at hearing such an exchange, in
public. I moved to close the window, but Prissy stopped me. She
tore off her large-brimmed hat and scowled.

“Why should *we* have to close *our* windows,” she demanded,
“when *they* are the ones who are being so loud?!?”

More shouting and obscenities from next door.

“What the *fuck* is the matter with those two?!?” Prissy snapped.
“They’ve been disturbing the peace with their non-stop arguing
ever since they moved in – and that was almost a week ago!” 
Prissy stuck her head out the window and glared at the house next
door, to the left. It was a non-descript ranch home, with peeling
paint and an unkempt yard.

“I hear they’re newlyweds,” I offered lamely.  My lovely blonde
roommate merely glared.


“Someone should do something!”  Prissy hissed.

I gave a helpless shrug. “Sure,” I agreed. “But who?”

Mrs Jones’ shrill, loud voice boomed through the air.

“In the *ass*?!?  You wan’ me to take that thing up mah *ass*?!?
You gotta be shittin’ me!  I don’ wan’ that thing in my *pussy*,
much less up my *ass*!”

A look of shocked horror crept over the faces of all three of us.

“Oh that is *it*!” Prissy shouted, jumping to her feet. “Come on,
Mandy … Cindy! If no one else is going to confront them about
their obnoxious, disgusting behavior, then we *are*!”

She stormed out of the room, towards our back door.

“Prissy, no!” I shouted, panicked at the idea of confronting two
loud and probably aggressive strangers. “Don’t cause a scene! Let
someone else handle it!  Maybe the police?”

But Prissy was in no mood for discussion.

“No way!” she shouted. “It’s been days and no one has done a
thing! If everyone else is too chicken-shit ..” she glared
meaningfully at Mandy and me … “then *I* will do it!”

I clumsily tugged up the straps on my bikini top, futilely trying
to cover my boobs more, and scrambled to catch up.

“Go if you want,” Mandy called, settling herself back in her
chair and returning to her book. “But I’m not getting involved.”
Deep down, I agreed with her, but I couldn’t let Prissy think I
was chicken-shit!

“Prissy!” I pleaded. But my lovely blonde roommate ignored me and
marched outside, into our backyard.

“Please, Prissy!” I begged, trailing behind her as she marched
towards the Joneses’ yard. “I’ve seen them! They’re big people
and obviously have tempers!  And they’re also …”

I caught myself.

“What?” Prissy snorted. “They’re also black? So what? You think
I’m afraid of them?”

Before I could answer, we had reached the Joneses’ back door.

It was open.

To my horror, Prissy stormed inside, uninvited.  Not knowing what
to do, I meekly followed.

We found ourselves in the Joneses’ kitchen. The couple was still
arguing, from the next room.

“We been married over a week, now!” the man’s voice bellowed,
“and you only let me fuck you once -- once! -- on our honeymoon!
I’m going crazy without sex!”

Prissy stormed through the dirty kitchen, ignoring the piles of
dirty dishes, empty pizza boxes, and discarded fast food
containers.  She stomped to the living room, where she stopped
abruptly, freezing in place.

“You goin’ crazy?” I heard the woman scream, from up ahead. “I
ain’t had no satisfaction, neither! An’ that’s cuz I didn’t know
you was a freak with a third leg! Yo dick too big for my *pussy*,
much less my ass!”

I ran to catch up with my roommate, mortified that we were going
to get caught barging into someone else’s home … while they were
still there!  My stammered apology was cut short, as I looked
past the frozen Prissy into the feuding couple’s living room.

The Joneses were standing in the middle of the room, almost
completely naked!

Mrs Jones was a statuesque black woman, standing well over 5’10”.
She had an attractive face and a thick body that hinted at muscle
rather than fat.  She was naked except for a shiny black PVC
bustier that pushed her huge, fat boobs up and mashed them
together to form a truly breath-taking expanse of dark cleavage.
She also wore matching thigh-high boots and in one hand she held
an enormous translucent double-headed dildo that she waved about
for emphasis.

The thing had to be about three feet long!

“Why *you* always gotta be the top?!?” she demanded of the man,
still oblivious to our presence. “All my life, *I* been in
control. I ain’t about to let anyone top *me* -- not even my
husband!”

The man she was yelling at was even bigger than she was. He was
about her age … maybe mid-30s? … and stood about 6 feet tall.  He
had a thick body that might have been athletic once, but was
starting to go to flab.  His paunch wasn’t really big, yet, but
it was starting.

Mr Jones stood in the middle of the room, completely nude except
for the single over-the-calf black boot he was (for some bizarre
reason) wearing over his groin. The boot dangled down almost to
his knees.

I stopped, stunned by sudden realization: That was no boot!

That huge thing was Mr Jones’ flaccid manhood!  I gaped,
momentarily forgetting that Prissy and I were intruders. The
thing had to be over a foot long … soft!  No wonder Mrs Jones
wouldn’t let him have intercourse with her!  That monster would
wreck *any* woman!

Mr Jones continued his shouting.

“Well I sure as hell ain’t gonna let *you* …” he stopped, finally
noticing us standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

“What the fuck are *you* two …” he began, angrily. He stopped,
seeming to only now see us fully: Two young white women in
bikinis, standing in his living room.  I flushed with
embarrassment when I realized this.

He grinned and I saw that big, black python of his twitch. 
Reminded again of my own near-nakedness, I futilely tried to
cover my mostly exposed breasts with my arms, already regretting
that I had followed my hot-headed roommate into this situation.

Priscilla had no such reservations, boldly thrusting her big,
barely-covered boobs out as she crooked one arm to rest her hand
on her hip.

“And what are you two fine young ladies doing in our home?” Mr
Jones chuckled, leering openly.

Priscilla let loose.

“You two have been nothing but trouble since you moved here!” she
shouted, waving an accusatory finger at the stunned pair. “Every
day … shouting and screaming and arguing … airing your sex
problems for the whole neighborhood!”

Mr Jones dropped his eyes, abashed. “Yeah, I guess we was kinda
loud,” he admitted sheepishly, although he made no move to hide
his nakedness or his semi-erect shaft.

Mrs Jones wasn’t so accommodating.

“Just *who* the fuck do you think you are …?” the angry black
woman spat, stalking over to jab a large finger into one of
Priscilla’s fat, pale boobs, “… comin’ into *my* house, telling
*me* what I can and can’t do?!?” She jerked her head fluidly from
side to side, as she spoke, emphasizing each word.

I cowered at seeing this big woman’s anger, afraid things were
going to get physical.  If a fight started, we’d be totally
outmatched, physically, and the thought terrified me.

Fortunately, Mr Jones interceded.

“Now, honey,” he soothed, placing a big, strong hand on each of
Mrs Jones’ wide shoulders. “Maybe this purty little white girl’s
got a point. We *have* been fightin’ a lot, and if these two been
hearing us, probably a lot o’ other folk been hearing us, too.”

The big black woman scowled. She too, I noted, made no move to
hide her state of relative undress.  I thought I was going to die
of embarrassment; and I was probably the most modestly dressed
person in the room!

“Maybe,” Mrs Jones reluctantly conceded, “but that don’ excuse
her from busting into *my* house!”

Mr Jones gave a wry grin. “May turn out for the best,” he said.
“We ain’t solved nothin’ since we first started fightin’. Maybe
getting another person’s opinion will help.”
	
Mrs Jones scowled. “What do I care what two skinny little white
bitches think o’ my sex life?” she demanded. “Probably still
virgins, dey selves!”

The big black man cuddled his near-naked wife.  “Aw, c’mon,
baby!” he cajoled. “Neither o’ us has got any since our
honeymoon!  We both getting frustrated an’; losin’ our tempers.
Gettin’ an outside opinion may show us anudder way that both of
us can live with.

Reluctantly, Mrs Jones removed her thrusting finger from my
roommate’s boob.

“OK,” the black woman said, sulkily, “but I go first!”

A brief look of irritation flashed across his face, but Mr Jones
nodded, dropping his bare ass down on the couch and waving a hand
to go ahead.

Mrs Jones smiled triumphantly. “The problem is …” she declared
throwing her hands up in the direction of her husband, “that this
sumbitch always gotta be the top.”

“You could always take turns, switching between who is on top and
who is underneath?” I volunteered timidly. The big black woman
glared at me and I shrank back into the doorway.

“He wanna BE the top, whitebread!” the big black woman snarled,
“not just be ON top!  Selfish bastard always gotta be dominant,
an’ he *knows* the only way I can get off is if *I* am dominant!”

“Fuck, yeah, I gotta be donminant!” the black man shouted,
angrily jumping to his feet. “*You* supposed t’ be submissive! 
Everyone knows that!  The man is  *supposed* to be dominant!”

Mrs Jones was immediately in his face.

“Well I *ain’t* submissive and whoever tol’ you women was
supposed to be like that, dey’s an ass! Wouldn’t hurt you to let
me be dominant!”

“Who knows?” the big black woman said, dropping her voice to a
purr as she stroked Mr Jones’ thick, now-stiff cock with her
hand. She gently trailed one end of the thick dildo cockhead
along the black man’s chest. “You might like being the one t’get
fucked, ‘stead o’ being the one doing the fuckin’!”

Mr Jones slapped the dildo away, angrily. “Bull*shit*! He
shouted. “I *don’* wan’ yo stinkin’ snatch in my face, I *don’
wan’ you sittin’ on my face or suffocating me with dem big ol’
titties o’ yours, and I *definitely* ain’ lettin’ you fuck me up
the ass with that thing!”

The black woman’s face clouded with anger and she slapped at him
with the big dildo. “You *know* that’s the only way I can git
off!” she cried.  “You know I gotta totally dominate someone ‘for
I can cum!  How come you won’ take it up the ass for me?  You
would if you loved me!”

The big black man gave a dismissive laugh, and I saw his mighty
tool begin to droop as anger overcame arousal.

“You sayin’ I don’ love you if I won’ take it up the ass?” he
shouted. “What about you?  I been pleadin’ with you for a week to
lemme take *you* up the ass an’ you won’ have none of it!  Does
that mean *you* don’ love *me*?”

Mrs Jones had worked herself into a frenzy of righteous fury.

“Do you even THINK afore you talk?” she demanded, waving her hand
at his crotch. “Look at you!  You got a fuckin’ third leg down
there!  I’m still walkin’ funny from our honeymoon, when I let
you use that thing t’ fuck my *pussy*!  You think I can take
*that* thing up my *ass*?!?  I’d never be able t’ shit agin!”

“You knew how big my dick was afore we got married!” he retorted
loudly. “Ya shoulda let me fuck you then to see if you could take
it, ‘steada waitin’ to bait me inta marrying ya and then telling
me I ain’ gonna get no sex!”

The black woman was shaking her fist in her husband’s face.
“Whatchu talkin’ about!?” she demanded. “I give you sex!”

“Hand jobs don’ count!” he yelled, slapping her hands away. “I
need me some pussy!  Or some ass!  Or at least a fuckin’ blow
job, now an’ then!”

“Ain’ no one that can spread dey lips wide enough to take that
horse cock!” she shrilled, slapping at him.

The two stopped, suddenly remembering they had an audience.

“So,” Mr Jones pleaded to Priscilla, “you heard both sides …
whaddya think we should do?”

My roommate regarded them in disbelief, mouth agape.

“What should you do?” she repeated. “What the fuck do I care what
you should do?  It’s not *my* problem!  You’re both a couple of
fucked-up freaks who are so sexually incompatible that you never
should have married in the first place!”

Mrs Jones looked like she was going to attack Priscilla and beat
the hell out of her. I was so afraid I thought my legs would give
out.

“You probably right,” Mr Jones said softly. “But … I love her!  I
want to stay married to her!  Only problem is … what you said …
we don’ match up, sex-wise.  But … what can we do about it?”

Priscilla gave a haughty sniff.

“I don’t give a fuck what you do,” the arrogant blonde snorted.
“All I care about is that, whatever you do, you shut the fuck up
about it and stop dropping property values with all your damned
fighting!”

The big black woman stalked angrily towards Priscilla and reached
out to grab her by the throat.

“Wait!” I interjected, surprising myself with my boldness. I
stepped out of the doorway to stand near Priscilla.  “Let’s look
at the situation,” I reasoned aloud. “You both love each other,
deep down, right?”

The black couple looked at each other and reluctantly nodded.

“Everything is good except the sex, right?” I asked.

Mr Jones smiled and put an affectionate arm around his wife’s
waist.  “Yeah,” he smiled. Mrs Jones let a small, soft smile
creep across her face and nodded.

My mind was racing.  “Couldn’t you take turns?” I asked.  “If you
really love one another, you should be able to let the other one
be dominant, now and then, so they can achieve satisfaction,
alternating between who gets their turn!”

The black couple looked at each other, uncertain.

“But you don’ understand,” Mrs Jones said, plaintively. “*Look*
at that man’s cock!  I already let him fuck me once and I’m still
sore!  He wants t’do me up the ass!  *Tell* me that’s something I
can do without getting’ my asshole wrecked for life!”

Mr Jones was indignant. “What about her?!?” he demanded. “Her
favorite way to get off is to smother someone between her big
titties or by sittin’ on their face til they pass out!  A guy
could *die* doin’ that!  I ain’ takin’ that kinda chance!”

The two began arguing again until Priscilla’s shout brought them
up short.

For crying out loud, you two assholes!” my roommate shouted. “If
you can’t fuck each other, then go get someone else you CAN fuck!
Just stop yelling at each other!”

The big black man looked crestfallen, but Mrs Jones was looking
at Priscilla with a mixture of anger, inspiration, and …
something else.

Desire?

Mrs Jones cocked her head and regarded Priscilla.

“You know, baby,” the big black woman said to her husband, as she
slowly strolled up to face the diminutive, but defiant blonde, “I
think this little white girl done come up with the solution t’
our problem!”

Mr Jones regarded his wife in confusion.  I could sympathize – I
had no idea what the woman was talking about.

But answers were about to be provided.

The big woman grabbed the startled blonde and scooped her into a
bear hug.  My roommate’s eyes went wide with surprise.

“We just gotta get us someone else t’ fuck!” Mrs Jones said,
squeezing the writhing white girl. Priscilla struggled furiously,
but Mrs Jones merely tightened her grip until the feisty girl
finally succumbed and went limp.

Still holding the semi-conscious blonde in her arms, Mrs Jones
reached back and deftly untied the strings to Priscilla’s bikini
– first the top, then the bottom.

The freed bathing suit pieces fell to the floor.

“There we go!” the big black woman said, half guiding and
half-carrying the slowly recovering white girl to closest end of
the couch.  Mrs Jones sat her ample ass on the arm of the couch,
still standing on the floor, and gently forced the weakened
blonde to her knees, in front of her.

“What …?” Priscilla muttered, trying to regain her senses. But
before she had the chance, Mrs Jones grabbed the blonde’s head
and forced the white girls face deep into the black woman’s
exposed snatch.  Thus positioned, the big woman then wrapped her
thick, muscular thighs around the blonde’s head and squeezed,
entrapping her.

“Yeah,” Mrs Jones panted, as she began rubbing herself on the
kneeling girl’s pale face, “that’s what we have t’ do!  We just
gotta find us someone else t’ fuck!” She glanced at her husband.
“You don’ like eatin’ mah pussy?  No problem; I’ll jus’ get
someone else who will!”

Mr Jones looked shocked. “Yolanda!” he said, “whachu doin’
baby?!?  You can’ just grab you a white girl and start fuckin’
her!”

But Mrs Jones didn’t acknowledge him, obviously already getting
into her lustful tribadism. She thrust her pelvis repeatedly
against her entrapped victim’s face with long, slow, wet strokes.


“Sure I can,” the black woman panted.  She gave him a long,
meaningful stare.

“An’ so can you.”

The big black man paused, uncertainly.

“That’s right!” Mrs Jones murmured to her husband, as she slowly
increased her thrusting tempo. “Fuck her baby!  Stick that big
horse cock o’ yours up this stuck-up little bitch’s blonde
pussy!”

Mr Jones hesitated. “Whatchu talkin’; about, baby?” he whined,
shifting from one leg to the other. “You know ah can’ do that! 
I’m … I’m married!”

Priscilla’s fingernails had sunk into the big black woman’s thigh
muscles as the white girl struggled to escape, but she was
obviously unable to break free.

“Sure you can, baby,” Mrs Jones urged, continuing to face-fuck
the entrapped blonde. “You gotta do it!  T’ save our marriage. 
Bitch said it herself: We perfect for each other in every way,
‘cept sex.  Dat means that if we wanna save our marriage, we
gotta find a way to have sex … by proxy.”

The big black man’s eyes were glued to the kneeling white girl’s
creamy, bare body. His thick member began rising of its own
accord.

“It’s OK, baby!” Mrs Jones urged. “I *want* you t’ do it!  If you
love me, you’ll fuck this lil’ bitch and save our marriage.”

Finally, Mr Jones nodded.

“OK, baby,” the big black man said tentatively, grasping the
kneeling white girl from behind. He grabbed Priscilla’s hips and
pulled the white girl up from her kneeling position. With her
head still firmly entrapped between the sitting black woman’s
strong thighs, Priscilla was now standing, bent way over, with
her shapely white ass thrust up in the air.

The big black man began sliding his monstrously thick shaft up
along the underside of the pinned blonde’s exposed slit. After a
few strokes, I could see light shining off the slick trails
Priscilla’s aroused pussy was leaving on it.

I felt my own pussy become slick, as I watched.

“She likes it!” Mr Jones grinned.

“Hey,” Mrs Jones called, looking at me. “White girl!  Wanna see
something? Come over here!”

As if in a trance, I obeyed, walking towards the entangled trio.
I didn’t fully trust my quivering legs to keep me upright, and I
was terrified of this big couple’s dominance and aggressiveness.

I came to stand a few feet away, to Mrs Jones’ right.

“Watch this,” she told me, shifting her grip to grab Priscilla’s
head by a handful of lush, blonde hair.  Mrs Jones relaxed her
legs and jerked my roommate’s head up, so I could see Priscilla’s
face.

The once-defiant blonde’s face was now beslimed with cunt juice,
her features pink from where they had been vigorously rubbed. 
Priscilla’s jaw was slack and her gaze was distant and unfocused.

“See?” Mrs Jones whispered, triumphantly.  “Little bitch likes
it!  Her type always does!  They act so high an’ mighty when all
dey really want is for someone to throw ‘em down and fuck ‘em!”

Still holding the dazed white girl’s head up, she nodded to her
husband. “Do it, baby!” she whispered loudly. “Fuck her!  Fuck
her good!”

Needing no further incentive, Mr Jones reached down and
positioned his monstrous organ.  Holding it firmly with one hand,
he slowly pushed his hips forward, against my roommate’s wet
pussy lips.

Then he entered her.

The effect on Priscilla was immediate and electric.

Her blue eyes shot fully open and threatened to bug out of her
head.  She gave a loud grunt and her mouth stretched into a
large, perfect “O.”

“Oh yeah, baby!” Mrs Jones chuckled, sympathetically. “Ah know
‘zactly what you goin’ through!  I remember when he slid that
fuckin’ slab o’ meat inta *me* – an’ I’m twice as big as you!”

With a sigh of satisfaction, the black woman gently forced the
white girl’s head down between her legs again and clamped her
strong, dark thighs around the blonde’s head.  Mrs Jones then
reached over and grabbed up each of Priscilla’s wrists, pinning
them on her meaty thighs, over the blonde’s buried head.

I watched Mr Jones, moving rhythmically, slowly thrusting forward
just a little with each stroke. He’d then pause, withdrawing most
of the way, before slowly pushing forward again. Each time, he
crammed a little more of that freakishly large cock into
Priscilla.

After several minutes of slow, steady thrusts, the big black man
sighed and worked the entire length into the helpless white girl.
I couldn’t believe that he had actually buried that massive shaft
to the hilt up my roommate’s cruelly-stretched pussy!

“Oh *yeah*!” he breathed, as he began a slow, steady fucking
rhythm.

The black woman smiled, lost in her own sexual pleasure. “See
baby?” she murmured to her husband. “I told you dis white girl
had the answer t’ our problems!”

“So nice n’ tight!” Mr Jones agreed dreamily, closing his eyes
and slowly picking up his pace.

Priscilla’s widely spread legs began trembling and I heard Mrs
Jones give a soft gasp of pleased surprise.

“Yo stuck up little friend’s got her tongue up mah pussy,” she
told me, giving me a conspiratorial wink.

I shook my head in denial.  There was no way!  Not Priscilla! 
The black woman had to be lying!

I watched my roommate’s legs tremble violently; if Mr Jones
hadn’t been holding her up by the hips as he fucked her from
behind, I’m certain she would have collapsed.

Looks like your bitchy little friend just cum,” Mrs Jones
laughed, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the tongue bath her
pussy was receiving.

I weakly shook my head in denial, again.  That was impossible! 
This couldn’t be happening!

“Oh fuck!” Mr Jones gasped, picking up his pace. “She ain’ the
only one!  Here … here … here I go!”

Mrs Jones eyes shot open. “Don’t you dare!” she yelled. “Don’t
you come afore I do!”  She began grinding herself in a frenzy
against the trapped white girl’s face.

But Mr Jones did cum first.

Explosively.

With a loud cry, he buried his huge cock to the hilt, deep into
the petite blonde’s pussy.  He shuddered, and I shuddered
sympathetically, feeling my own pussy twinge in arousal as I
imagined the massive load of cum that his cock must be shooting
into Priscilla’s helpless body.

“Like a damned garden hose …,” I whispered, flushed with arousal.
 “A garden hose going off inside her … filling her!”

My nipples ached. I had never felt so excited, and was worried
that I might climax myself, just from watching!  I was disgusted
with myself.

Mrs Jones cried out in dismay.

“You selfish fuck!” she cursed her husband. “You went and cum so
quick! Now what am I gonna do?”

Mr Jones pulled out of Priscilla’s pussy with a loud ‘plop’ and
threw himself into a nearby recliner, gasping for air as he
recovered.

“Do whatever you want,” he laughed.  “You don’ need me t’ top
that lil’ girl. You jus’ go t’ town an’ don’ mind me. I’ll just
sit here an’ watch.”

Mr Jones glanced at Priscilla’s upthrust backside and laughed.

“Oh fuck!” he guffawed. “You should see dis, baby!  Poor white
girl’s pussy is all open an’ gaping an’ just droolin’ my load out
onta the floor!  She ain’ never goin’ back to bein’ tight!”

Mrs Jones gave him an appraising look and slowly smiled.

“You right!” she laughed. “Don’ matter none if you cum first!  Oh
man, dis is great!  Why didn’ we think o’ this sooner?!?”

She unclamped her legs from around the white girl and jerked the
blonde’s head up by the hair, again.  Priscilla’s features were
slack and almost unrecognizable under a thick coating of pussy
juice.  The dazed blonde’s tongue was extended from between her
parted lips, still feebly moving.

“Mrs Jones had been telling the truth,” I realized with a chill.
“Priscilla *had* been licking her nasty, dark cunt!”

“Yeah,” the big black woman husked, as she roughly threw the
semi-conscious blonde onto her back, on the floor. “Time t’ have
some more fun.” She turned to give her perspiring husband a lewd
wink.

“You jus’ watch what I’m gonna do t’ this bitch, baby!”  she
whispered, loudly.

Standing over the supine white girl, the big black woman hefted
the massive double-headed dildo she had been holding.

“Yeah baby,” Mrs Jones murmured, a trace of spittle trickling
from her full, thick lips. The black woman looked down at
Priscilla as she inserted one bulbous head of the huge dildo into
her own sopping pussy.

“We gonna have a good time, you n’ me,” Mrs Jones husked to the
dazed white girl. “You ever been fucked, Blondie?  You ain’ never
been *really* fucked til you been fucked by another woman!”

She knelt between the semi-conscious white girl’s widespread
legs, reaching back to grab my roommate’s ankles.

“An’ you gonna get fucked now, Blondie!” the big black woman
panted, so aroused she seemed barely able to breathe. “You gonna
get fucked like you ain’ *never* been fucked afore!”  She forced
Priscilla’s ankles up around her ears, leaving the white girl’s
glistening pussy exposed.

Slowly, the big black woman inserted the other end of the big
dildo into the blonde’s still-stretched pussy. The massive
silicone cock slid in with minimal effort, since Priscilla’s
pussy had been so recently stretched and well-lubricated from Mr
Jones’ load as well as Priscilla’s own juices.

With the big double-headed dong deep inside each woman’s cunt,
Mrs Jones laid herself down on top of my roommate and, for the
next 30 minutes, raped her.

That’s the only way I can describe it.  I have never seen one
person so savagely and aggressively fucked by another person, and
I prayed I never did again.  Priscilla slowly began to regain her
senses as the big black woman fucked her, but it was far too late
to do anything about it.  The petite white girl cried and pleaded
and begged the lust-crazed black woman to stop, but to no avail.

Priscilla might have been more convincing, I thought, if she
hadn’t climaxed so often.

Both women seemed to drift from climax to climax, over the
duration of the rape, often clasping each other and crying out
loudly, their bodies momentarily stiffening as orgasm gripped
them.

About a half hour later, Mrs Jones finally slowed and eventually
stopped, although she kept the big dildo buried deep in their
respective pussies.  Sweat dripped off the big woman’s body as
she regarded first her nearly insensate conquest and then her
attentive husband, who had been watching with obvious interest.
His massive cock was again semi-erect, in spite of being drained
so thoroughly only about 30 minutes ago.

A mischievous smile stole over the big black woman’s face.

Keeping her full weight on the semi-crushed white girl, and
keeping the huge dildo firmly in place, Mrs Jones rolled over
onto her back, pulling the thoroughly fucked Priscilla on top of
her.

Mr Jones and I looked at them in confusion.

“You ready to have your dream come true, baby?” Mrs Jones
murmured to her husband, pushing her fat boobs together to almost
completely engulf my roommate’s head.  The big black woman thrust
her pelvis off the floor, raising the pinned white girl’s creamy
ass higher.

The big black man looked dumbfounded.

“You mean …?” he asked, staring with widening eyes.

“Dat’s right, baby,” Mrs Jones panted. “Fuck her in the ass! You
know you always wanted that … to fuck a woman in the ass!  Now,
you can do that … without tearing *me* apart!”

Mr Jones looked like a deer on the highway, torn between desire
and hesitation.  “She’s … she’s so small,” he protested.

“So small ‘n tight!” Mrs Jones urged. “Do it, baby! Do it for us.
 Pretend you’re making love to me as you fuck this white girl’s
ass!”

The big black man’s uncertainty faded and he padded out to the
kitchen. He returned shortly, slathering his monstrous cock with
a generous glob of Crisco.

I moaned softly as I watched him position himself in back of
Priscilla. Mrs Jones used her own legs to spread the prone white
girl’s legs wide, exposing the puckered rosebud of my roommate’s
asshole.

Priscilla, perhaps sensing what was about to happen, struggled
feebly in Mrs Jones’ vise-like grip. With her pretty white face
buried deeply in the black woman’s sweaty cleavage, my roommate
was helpless, even though she was on top.

Mr Jones positioned himself, almost reverently, behind
Priscilla’s pale, rounded, up-thrust ass, his once flaccid member
now stiffly swollen and straining towards the ceiling.

“Fuck me, baby!” Mrs Jones whispered, looking deep into her
lover’s eyes. “Fuck me through her!”

Groaning with anticipation, Mr Jones pushed the head of his
massive cock against the impossibly small opening of Priscilla’s
back door.  He strained forward and I heard my roommate give a
scream of pain that was all but muffled between Mrs Jones’
enormous tits.

The big black man strained for a few minutes, but with a
triumphant sigh, finally pushed home, sliding his bulbous
cockhead into the struggling white girl’s tight hole.  I watched
Priscilla’s body stiffen in resistance, and Mrs Jones’ pushed her
fat boobs together even harder, crushing the white girl’s face
even harder in that dark crevasse that was smothering her.

Within a few minutes, Priscilla’s pinned body went limp.

Mrs Jones pulled Priscilla’s face from between her tits, glowing
as she watched the semi-conscious white girl gasp in lungfuls of
air.

“That’s right, baby,” the big black woman purred, huskily. 
“Breathe deep. Thems the last breaths of air you ever gonna take.

With that, she pushed Priscilla’s face between her huge, fat
boobs again and clasped her husband closely, crushing the petite
blonde between the couple’s big, sweating bodies.

With that, the Joneses fucked.

The black couple looked as if they were screwing each other like
savage animals, though neither seemed fazed by the other’s
ferocity.  One could almost overlook the thin glimpse of white
flesh that was visible between their hard, dark, sweating bodies
as they brutally thrust at each other.  I could see a bit of
Priscilla’s pale flank, visible between the two deep-brown bodies
that trapped her. The wedged blonde’s pale arms jutted out to
either side, as did her alabaster, out-thrust legs.  Every so
often, those legs would stiffen and raise off the floor, as
orgasm after unwanted orgasm washed over her.

After an alarmingly brief period of time, however, her arms and
legs went limp.

But the rutting couple didn’t seem to notice.

“She’s … dead,” I thought, feeling myself go numb. “I can’t
believe it!  They … they’ve actually smothered her to death!”

The Joneses were still locked in a passionate embrace, their lips
mashed against each other’s.  They seemed to go on forever until
Mr Jones stiffened and cried out in ecstasy, shooting his load
deep into the bowels of the suffocated white girl between them.

Mrs Jones, however, wasn’t finished.  As her husband pulled his
huge cock from the dead white girl’s anus, the black woman rolled
over so she was on top of her conquest – the double-headed dildo
still buried deep inside each woman.

Salivating, she raised herself enough to free Priscilla’s
lifeless face from between the Amazon’s huge breasts.  The black
woman pulled the white girl’s head back, by her blonde hair, and
stared lustfully into the now-unseeing blue eyes, as she
continued to savagely plow into her victim.

Drinking in the results of her ultimate victory, Mrs Jones came …
hard, howling loud enough to rattle the windows.  I could see
every muscle in her big body tense to the breaking point,
freezing in place as if she were a statue carved of gleaming
basalt.

Finally, with an audible groan, Mrs Jones collapsed onto the
white girl’s lifeless body -- sated.

Mr Jones jumped up, panicked.

“Yolanda!” he shouted. “Watchu gone done?!?  You jus’ killed that
white girl!”  Sweat beaded on his brow, only this time, it wasn’t
from passion.

His wife grinned lazily and rolled off her defeated victim.

“Chillax, baby,” she laughed, kneeling at the side of Priscilla’s
pale, motionless body. “I’m a LPN … I know how to resuscitate
folk!”  With that, she started performing CPR on the dead white
girl.

Within a few minutes, to my immense relief, Priscilla choked, and
wheezed, and began gasping for air.

Mrs Jones looked triumphantly at her husband. “See?” she said. “I
*tol’* you dere’s no problem!”  The big black woman, a sheen of
sex-scented perspiration shimmering over her dark body, gave me a
seductive glance.

“So how about you, whitebread?” she purred. “You want somma what
your friend her just got?  A pretty lil’ brunette would be a nice
change of pace.”

My nerve broke and I ran out of the house.

* * * * * *

Days went by and we saw no sign of Priscilla.

Mandy was sick with worry. But I found I still couldn’t tell her
what had happened.  The memory of Priscilla’s lifeless white
body, sandwiched between the dominant black couple’s dark,
thrusting, heaving bodies … the way they had used her as a living
condom … literally fucking her to death …

All of that had me scared shitless.

And yet, every night, I found myself masturbating furiously,
reliving those scenes.

On the sixth day after the experience, I was out in the backyard,
in my bikini again, hanging laundry to dry on the clothesline. 
Glancing to my right, I saw a pale, haggard looking blonde,
wearing a dirty, blue bikini top and a mismatched baggy,
ill-fitting white bottom. She was in the Joneses’ back yard,
picking up trash.

“Prissy?” I called, not certain this scraggly creature could
possibly be my once-lovely roommate. She looked up and gave a wan
smile. Overjoyed at seeing my roommate alive after all this time,
I ran over and we cried as we hugged.

“Come on,” I said, pulling her by the hand, “I’m getting you out
of here!”

But Priscilla wouldn’t move, digging her bare heels into the
grass.

“No, Cindy,” she said, her voice dry and raspy. “I’m … I’m happy
here. I’ve finally found my place.”

I regarded her in horror.

“Prissy! No!” I retorted. I had never seen the once beautiful
blonde look so worn and … used.  She reminded me of a heroine
addict who had become a hooker.

And then I noticed that she wasn’t wearing a mismatched bikini
bottom, at all.”

Prissy blushed with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” she wept.  “It’s just that after Charlie … Mr Jones
… fucks me in the ass …” Tears streamed down her pale face. “I
can’t keep control over my bowels, anymore.  My butthole has been
so stretched … it … it won’t close!  It just … gapes!”  I hugged
my weeping friend, trying to console her.

“It *would* go back to normal,” she tried to explain, “if only he
didn’t fuck me in the ass so often!  It never gets the chance to
recover!  All I’d need is another day or two!”

I regarded her with a mixture of pity and horror.

“Come back with us,” I pleaded.  “Come back to Mandy and me!”

My former roommate slowly shook her head.  “I can’t,” she
whispered. “The feelings they force on me are so … so … intense!
So … good!  I’ve never felt so … sexual!  So thoroughly dominated
by the sexuality of others!”

I shook the deluded blonde, hard.

“Prissy!” I yelled. “Think about it!  That woman literally KILLED
you!  She smothered you *to death* between those big, black tits
of hers!  It was only because she knew CPR that she managed to
bring you back!”

A dreamy look crept over Priscilla’s face, which was now flushed
with arousal.

“I know,” she whispered. “I’ve never felt sensations like that.
To be so thoroughly dominated by another woman’s femininity … her
sex! To be forced to serve … to realize that my sole purpose in
life was to provide this goddess’ sexual gratification!  To know
that she controlled my very life!  It was ... the ultimate surrender!”

She shook her head and smiled vacantly at me.

“I’m famished,” she chirped, suddenly, as if completely
forgetting all of our previous conversation. “Let’s go inside for
an Oreo!”

I regarded my possibly brain-damaged roommate with astonishment.
What had those two done to her?!?  I knew I had to intervene … to
do *something* to help my friend!

“OK,” I agreed, soothingly. “We’ll go inside for an Oreo.  The
Joneses are gone, now, right?”

Priscilla laughed and nodded.

“I *love* Oreos!” she said.  “Especially double-stuf Oreos!”

I nodded. “Yes, yes,” I assured her, hoping to lull her into a
complacent frame of mind where I could reason with her. “Oreos
are great.”  Anguished at my friend’s plight, I followed her into
the Joneses’ kitchen, my mind racing as I tried to figure out
what I could do to help.

We stepped out of the hot, afternoon sun into the hot, shadowed
kitchen.

To my surprise, Priscilla didn’t head for the pantry. Instead,
she dashed down the short hallway to the living room.

“Prissy!” I shouted. “Where are you going?  I thought you wanted
cookies?”

I ran after my slightly deranged roommate, but stopped short as I
entered the living room.

Standing in front of me was Mrs Jones, her dark, lush body
completely nude.

Sitting to the side, in a recliner, was Mr Jones, also nude.

Prissy sat on the floor, near the couch.  Her discarded diaper
nearby as she idly fingered her obviously stretched pussy.

“What …?!?” I gasped, in panic. “Prissy!  You said they were
gone!”

My former friend stared at me vacantly.

“I lied,” she smiled, shrugging.  “I wanted an Oreo!”

My blood froze in my veins. I wanted to run, but my legs felt
paralyzed.

Mrs Jones glided up and embraced me, gently but firmly.  I felt
my bikini top slide off and only then realized that the big black
woman must have undone the clasp.  She untied the strings on my
hips and my bikini bottoms fell to my ankles.  Blushing with
shame, I tried to cover my sparsely-furred pussy.

Why couldn’t I move?  I begged my fear-frozen legs to respond,
but they merely trembled.

The dominant black woman kissed me, pressing her full, thick lips
hotly against mine.  My head spun and I could feel myself
moisten.

“Please,” I gasped, turning my head to break her seductive kiss.
“Don’t!”

Mrs Jones gave me a knowing smile.

“Hush child,” she scolded, tracing one of her thick, velvety dark
nipples across my lips. “I saw how you looked when we broke your
bitchy little friend in, a few days ago. I saw how much you was
turned on … how much you wished that was you!”

“No!” I protested weakly. “I hated that!  It was terrible!  I
want nothing to do with that kind of sick, twisted perversion!”

Mrs Jones traced a fingertip gently along my wet slit, making me
moan, in spite of myself.

“Oh really?” she asked. “Then why did you stay?  Why did you
watch?”

She gave me a long, knowing look.

“Why didn’t you run, when you thought we’d killed your friend?”
she whispered. “Why didn’t you call the police?”

I trembled in her arms, unable to answer.

“Why were you touching yourself while we fucked your friend to
death?” the black woman whispered, her breath hot and moist in my
ear.

Had I been? I didn’t remember …

“Why have you been fingering yourself every night, since then?”
the black woman whispered.

I jerked my head up, in shock.

“How …? How did you know that?!?” I gasped, feeling my legs turn
to water. Who *was* this woman?!?  Could she read my mind?  How
could she possibly know …?

Mrs Jones smiled triumphantly.

“I didn’,” she chuckled. “Not til jus’ now.”

I slumped against her, in defeat.

“Oh sure, I suspected,” she went on, casually picking up that
huge double-headed dildo that she had left on the couch.  She
gently, but firmly pushed me to the ground, on my bare ass. 
Trembling, I looked up at her powerful frame as she inserted one
end of that huge beast up her dark, ravenous cunt.

“I could see how bad you wanted it,” Mrs Jones purred, standing
astride me as that massive artificial cock bobbed obscenely in
front of my face. “I could see how much you wished it was
happening to you.”

The powerful black woman knelt between my out-stretched legs and
positioned that big cockhead against my quivering quim.

“Please,” I whispered in a choked voice. “Don’t …”

But Mrs Jones was not to be denied. She pressed that huge dildo
against me and my traitorous pussy, inexplicably slick with
arousal, refused to offer sufficient resistance.  I gave a loud
grunt as she slowly forced its girth into me.

I lay there, unable to believe that I was being raped by another
woman.  My mind spun, unable to acknowledge what was happening.

An unwanted feeling of pleasure began to build inside me.

After a few minutes, she smiled at me and rolled us over so that
I was on top.  The relief of having her not-insubstantial weight
off me was incredible!  Had she finally relented? Was she going
to let me go?

But she kept a firm hold on me, jutting her pelvis hard against
mine.  I was momentarily confused.

Until I felt a thick, warm, slick pressure burrow between my
up-thrust ass cheeks.

The memories of that terrible night returned.

Visions of watching as they double-teamed Priscilla and performed
their simultaneous rape. Memories of Mrs Jones smothering the
petite white girl with her big boobs.

Smothering her to death.

It all came flooding back.

My entire body tensed and I struggled furiously to break free.

I felt the pressure of Mr Jones’ mammoth cockhead pressing
against my virgin asshole.  Priscilla still sat on the floor,
masturbating as she watched us.

“You …” I spat, giving my former roommate a venomous look, “you
said you wanted a cookie!”

Priscilla paused her feverish self-fingering and smiled vacantly.

“No I didn’t,” she corrected me. “I said I wanted an Oreo.  A
double-stuffed Oreo! And that’s what I’m getting.”

With that, Mr Jones entered me from behind.  My mind temporarily
blanked as the incredible pain and an impossible fullness in my
gut overwhelmed me.  Their dark, sweaty bodies pressed down on me
from both sides, sandwiching me between them.

Mrs Jones grabbed a handful of my dark brown hair and pulled my
head upright, to look into my eyes.

“Take a deep breath, baby,” the big black woman purred, huskily.
“Breathe real deep. Cuz thems the last breaths of air you ever
gonna take.

Terror coursed through me and I reflexively gasped in a huge
lungful of air.

It proved to be just in time. Mrs Jones forced my face down, deep
between her massive chocolate-colored breasts.  The soft pressure
engulfed my face … my whole head! I couldn’t see anything.
Couldn’t hear anything.  All I could feel was the crushing
pressure of her big, sweaty boobs, smothering me.

That, and the feeling of getting crushed between two hard,
aroused bodies and of getting fucked by huge dicks in both holes.

They raped me for what seemed an eternity.

I felt crushed between their big, sweaty, dark bodies as they
continued to savage me.  Bright white lights began to flash
before my eyes as my lungs burned for air.

To my surprise, I realized I was teetering on the edge of a
climax.

“NO!” I screamed into the black, cloying cleavage that silenced
my screams even as it destroyed my dignity. “Please, God, no!”

I *couldn’t* climax from such treatment!  I just couldn’t!

I mustn’t!

To do so would mean I … I enjoyed it!  That I was a worthless,
submissive little slut who was unable to resist the advances of
these two dominant degenerates.  It would mean that they were
better than me!  It would no longer be rape, but submission – no
longer coerced, but seduced!

Perversely, that realization sent me over the edge and I wept in
shame, anger, and ecstasy as I climaxed harder than I ever came
in my life.

I came so hard, it hurt.  My body went as rigid as a steel beam
as I was wracked by an orgasm so intense, I was certain it caused
internal damage.  And worst of all …

It wouldn’t stop.

For some perverse reason, the prolonged smothering was
heightening the sensations. How long had it been since I had last
taken a breath?  Far too long.

Wave after wave of ecstasy wracked my dying body.  I couldn’t
take the non-stop intense pleasure and found myself begging for
the sweet release of death.  Sensory overload short-circuited my
mind. The two dominants continued to fuck my overwhelmed pale
flesh, wedged firmly between their grunting, sweaty, dark bodies.

My lungs stopped burning.

The incessant orgasm seeped throughout my being and took root,
slowly mellowing into an indescribably pleasant warmth, as Mrs
Jones' suffocating tits claimed another victim …

* * * * * * *

Pressure on my chest.

Rhythmic, persistent …

Awareness was returning, bit by bit.

I felt as if I were floating upwards, through a warm sea.  The
aftermath of an intense orgasm still clung to my brain, in
tattered shreds of satisfying degradation.  I could feel my pussy
throb, empty now, but still drooling with want.  The pleasurable
ache of my asshole throbbed in synch.

I felt my heart start to beat, the sound pulsing gently in my
head.

Warm lips closed over mine and hot, moist breath forced its way
down into my mouth.  I responded, kissing those seductive lips
with my open mouth and pushing my tongue deep into that inviting
moist recess.

The kiss broke and I heard a woman laugh.

“So, you liked being the creamy white filling in our Oreo, huh,
white girl?”

I struggled to open my eyes. It felt as if I had weights attached
to each eyelid.

I was on my back, on the Joneses’ living room floor.  Mrs Jones,
still nude, was kneeling next to me, leaning over my supine,
naked body.  I watched her massive chocolate-colored boobs sway
hypnotically over me.

“You … “ I stammered, tongue feeling thick and clumsy, “You …
*killed* me!  You smothered me to death with your breasts!”  As
soon as I slurred the accusation, my pussy spasmed and a small
aftershock of a climax stiffened my body and forced a small cry
of pleasure from my lips.

Mrs Jones gave me a slow smile, looking at me lovingly through
hooded eyes.

“That’s right, baby,” she murmured, caressing my pale face. “I
smothered you to death. And then I brought you back. Your life
belongs to me, now. I decide whether you live or die.”

Another mini-orgasm made my entire body tremble.

“But you enjoyed it, didn’t you!” she whispered, leaning close so
that her big, dark tits mashed down on my smaller, white ones.
“That was the best cum you ever had, wasn’t it!”

I didn’t answer, struggling to make sense of my perverted
reactions.

“You gonna play Oreo with us a lot, from now on,” the beautiful
black dominatrix murmured in my ear. “Once you been
‘double-stuffed’ ‘tween two dark layers, you ain’t never gonna be
able to stay away.”

I jumped up, to flee in horror.

Or, at least, that’s what I tried to do.

Instead, I found that what I actually did was to wrap my weak and
trembling arms around the dominant black woman’s muscular neck
and pull her close to plant a feeble, passionate, open-mouthed
kiss on her thick, full lips.

I felt her hot tongue push its way boldly into my mouth and I
parted my lips to let her.

Tears streamed down my face, because I realized she was right. 
Just like Priscilla, I was now slave to their perversions,
willing to give up everything … even my life … for the
opportunity to be used by them.  To have those incredible
climaxes forced upon me again.

“Oreo,” I thought, envisioning my soft, white body as it had been
crushed between the dark, hard bodies of this Nubian god and
goddess.  “I loved Oreos!”

Mrs Jones broke her kiss, but squeezed my cheeks to open my jaws.

Hovering over me, she slowly, deliberately spit in my open mouth.

Once.

Twice.

Slowly she allowed a third big, glistening glob of her saliva to
fall from her luscious thick lips into my submissive, open mouth.

She released her hold on my face.

Sobbing softly in degradation, I swallowed her spittle.

The big black woman smiled, triumphantly.

“You be staying with us, from now on,” she told me.

I wept, knowing she was right.

* * * * * * * *

It had been almost a week since my experience as part of the
Joneses’ Oreo.  As ordered, I had not gone back to my old home,
instead living with the Joneses and servicing their sexual needs.
 Priscilla and I took turns, being taken by the black dominants
on alternate nights.  On many nights, Mrs Jones killed one of us,
smothering us between her huge breasts or under her big ass. 
Afterwards, she’d peer intently into our unseeing faces as she
savagely finished fucking us with that double-headed dildo,
finally achieving her own mind-blowing orgasm.

Then she’d bring us around with CPR.

I could see why Priscilla had looked so haggard, when I had seen
her after her initial enslavement. And I knew I looked about a
bad.

Priscilla did look much better these days, and I knew that our
getting used only on alternating days kept me from getting as
rundown as Prissy had been, but …

It still wasn’t enough to keep us both from having to wear
diapers.

It was afternoon, on the sixth day after my enslavement.
Priscilla and I were in the Joneses’ backyard, picking up trash
as they’d ordered us.

“I’m so glad you joined us, Cindy!” Priscilla burbled. “Part of
me felt guilty, tricking you like that, but … aren’t you glad I
did?!?”

Part of me did feel resentment, but I confessed to myself that
being so sexually overwhelmed made it impossible for me to be mad
at her.

“I feel so much better, now that you’re sharing it all with me!”
Priscilla sighed.  My pussy isn’t so sore and my asshole doesn’t
gape nearly as much!”

“And you don’t have to be resuscitated as often,” I told her,
with a wry smile.  I grimaced, feeling a pang of shame. Why did
it feel so … sexual … so exciting … to be smothered to death? 
And worse, between a woman’s boobs!?!  It was so humiliating!

What was wrong with me?!?

Priscilla gave a sad sigh.

“But things haven’t improved enough that we don’t have to wear
diapers, anymore,” she said with a shrug of resignation.

I went crimson with humiliation, at the reminder.

That was one of the worst things about my enslavement: Mr Jones’
mammoth cock and propensity to take us up the back door had
stretched our assholes obscenely.  And he assfucked us so often
that we never got the opportunity for our sphincters to regain
their muscle tone.

“My asshole has recovered SO much, since you came,” Priscilla
sighed. “If I could only get one more day between fuckings, I’ll
bet that would be enough!”

“One more day,” I thought to myself.

In my mind, I had a sudden image of our former roommate, Mandy,
sandwiched between the Joneses’ insatiable dark bodies, their
immense poles buried deep in her svelte, porcelain-white body.

“I have an idea,” I told Priscilla.  “Let’s see if Mandy likes
Oreos.”
