Rick Eats And Fucks
Rick eats and fucks short red haired teens sweet shaved box
The dawn was bright and beautiful
I felt bad about taking so much of Pope’s time. but Lucy didn’t seem to mind. She told me that she got plenty of good hard black cock and for me to enjoy Pope’s attention. I was, but I still felt a little bad about it. Not enough to stop, however. Lucy had described being with Pope as a magic carpet ride and she was right. Without leaving the bed he took be to new, strange, and wonderful places. It wasn’t long before I was completely addicted to his ebony cock. I hated for him to quit and I couldn’t wait until the next time. I made daily visits to their house.
Foreplay with Pope was him telling me to strip. It was enough because I arrived there soaking wet. Then one morning it changed. Not worse, necessarily, but different. I had just got back from my run and was getting out of the shower when the doorbell rang. I slipped on a robe and went to the door. It was Pope and he wasn’t alone. There was another man with him.
I opened the door to let him and the other man in. Pope was a scary looking man, but I had no fear of him. The other man I wasn’t so sure of.
“Hi, Pope,” I said. “What brings you here?”
“You,” he answered. “Need some pussy.” I was willing, of course, but what was the other guy doing here? “We both want some pussy.” Pope added reaching and pulling me to him. He kissed me hard, prying my mouth open with his tongue. I responded as I had every day for the past two weeks. He could get me hot just by being near. Touching just added to the heat. Pope opened my robe while we kissed. When he broke the kiss and stepped back he took the robe with him. I was acutely aware that I was completely naked in front of two black men. One a complete stranger to me. I should have felt shame. I should have ran away or at the very least tried to cover up. I did neither.
“Told you the bitch was prime, didn’t I?” Pope said to the other man. “She’s one hot momma. This is Al,” he said indicating the other man who stared at my nakedness and grinned.
“You didn’t lie,” Al said licking his lips. “Good lookin’ slut.”
“Fuckin’ right,” Pope said. “Love black cock, don’t you Dawn?” I think I may have nodded, but I’m not sure. I was still shocked and trying to figure out what was going on. I soon found out because Al took me and bent me backward as he kissed me. Not too shabby, but not as good as Pope. I opened my mouth to tell them it wasn’t a good time when Al got a finger in me. One lousy touch and I was creaming to beat the band.
“Come on, Al,” Pope said “Let’s get the slut to a bed. You can fuck her first.” Pope had spoke more in the past few minutes than he had all the time I’d know him. For him it was a flood of conversation. “Take us to where you want to be fucked,” he told me. I was nearly running by the time I got to the stairs. They both were right on my heels.
Al was stripping as he ran, his great big black wand bouncing as he ran. He didn’t bother to remove his socks. I fell onto the bed and he fell on top of me. In no time his hard cock was in me all the way. For the next ten, maybe fifteen minutes, he plowed in and out of me. I came several times. Suddenly Al withdrew and got off of me, but my throbbing pussy didn’t have to wait very long. Pope was right there and he crammed his cock in and he fucked me hard.
For the next hour they took turns fucking me. Sometimes I would suck one while the other rammed his cock in and out of me. I knew that things were about to change when Pope stuck his finger in my butt. He hadn’t butt-fucked me but I knew without a doubt he was going to.
When Pope and Al left around noon, my jaw ached, my pussy and butt were sore and I was worn out. For a while after they left I lay on the cum soaked sheets and tried to get control of myself. I made a vow to myself that I would not do that again, but when Al and another black man came the next day, I eagerly agreed to everything they wanted to do to me. All summer long except for the week Ronnie came for a visit and the “off” week each month, I was used by a variety of men. All black and all wanting my body. I enthusiastically looked forward to each coming day and what it held in store for me.
In mid August I took a couple of days off from my sluttish activities and went to visit Ronnie at the military academy. My little solider took me on a tour and showed me his world, and while I enjoyed it, I was impatient to get back home.
“You got to get back in control,” Lucy said. “Get your shit together, Dawn.” I asked her to explain. “Girl, you don’t know when those fuckers will show up. Might be eight o’clock in the morning or eight o’clock at night. You’re sitting around waiting on them to show up whenever. I know what it’s like being addicted to black cock, honey, but get your dickin’ on your terms.”
I had to agree that I was hooked on cock and I had to agree that I did a lot of waiting and the uncertainty was maddening. I asked for her advice on how to fix the problem.
“In the morning, you get up and do your thing. Go do your run or whatever. Then you and me will go to lunch. If some swinging dick shows up while you’re home, send his ass packing. You tell him, or them, when to have their black ass here for fun and games. You let Pope and the others know that you are in charge of your pussy. Lucy hesitated a moment then went on. “You know what Pope is doing don’t you? He setting you up to turn you out.”
“Turn me out? What do you mean?”
“Pope will have you hooking, just like me, before long,” Lucy said. “He’s already charged a couple of them studs for your ass, but he’s heading you for full time whorin as sure as God made little green apples. That’s what he does, Dawn. Pope is a pimp and you are going to be another whore for him. Better know that, girl. If that’s not where you want to go, you better put a stop to it now. Hell, Dawn, you can get a million black cocks, anytime you want one. Fuck Pope and the horse he rode in on.”
It was later than normal, but I decided to have a run. I think better while running and I did need to think. My usual path to run on is almost three miles long. That day I took a turn and made it a five mile run. Since it was a thinking run, I took my time and did a lot of thinking about my life. I was nearly back to the starting place when I came to a decision. I didn’t want to be a whore. I wasn’t being judgmental, it simply wasn’t something I wanted to do with my life.
Of course I realized I was cutting something out of my life that I wanted. I wanted the thrill of fucking and above all, fucking black men. I wanted the excitement of not knowing who would show up to fuck me. Would it be one? More than one? A stranger or strangers? Would he have a big cock or just average? Would it be a great fuck? I had already came to the conclusion that any sex was good. I realized that the unknown was part of the attraction. That and a good fucking.
I didn’t have to wait long to put my new plan into practice. Al and another man were sitting on my front porch when I returned home from my run. I sent them on their way without even letting them in the house. I did the same the next morning and again the next day. Pope showed up the following day demanding to know what the fuck I was doing. I told him what I had decided. He didn’t comment and his expression didn’t change, as usual. He left, but not before he fucked me. It was on my terms so it was alright.
For the next two months I suffered cock withdrawal. Not having any other addictions I don’t have a good frame of reference, but stopping the big black cock parade was terrible. I missed the thrills, I missed the action and the crashing orgasms. A dildo can’t help very much. I missed the musky smell and the heat the men generated against me. The feel of their cocks in me. I missed it all!
Anytime my resolve started to weaken I’d call Lucy and she would pump me back up. My mid fall I was over the worst of it. At least I thought I was. At least the image of a big hard black cock didn’t occupy my every thought. I worked out zealously to compensate for the lack of sex. It helped some and I was in better shape than ever before. By Thanksgiving I was doing pretty good unless I happened to see a black man. I had some wonderful flash-backs when I happened to see one.
Several note worthy events took place after that. I spent the Thanksgiving holidays with Ronnie, I put the house on the market, marveled at how quickly it sold, and moved in to a townhouse all before Christmas. The most important event was I saw ‘them’.
I was having lunch and I saw the black man with the white girl. Until that moment I had done good. As they were leaving I saw him put his hand lightly on her back and realized my pussy was soaking wet. I left the restaurant on trembling legs.
I suppose it would have passed, but my townhouse complex has a doorman. A black doorman. I would guess his age at somewhere over sixty. He never had given me any ideas before but at that moment he looked damned good to me.
“Mister Oliver, what time do you get off duty?” I asked him while he was holding the door open for me.
“‘Bout half an hour, ma’am,” he answered.
“Do you think you might have time to come see me after you get off?” What the hell was I doing? Was I going to seduce this old man?
“No problem, Ma’am,” he said letting his eyes roam up and down my body. Or did I just imagined he looked at me? “I’ll be there for sure.”
Mister Oliver had changed out of his doorman’s uniform. He was dressed all in black. Black shirt, pants, jacket, and shoes.
“What can I do for you, Miz Elrod?” he asked. Whatever I had planned now seemed silly and even dangerous.
“I’m very sorry, Mister Oliver,” I said . “I’ve wasted your time.” He looked even older that I supposed.
“Maybe so,” he said. “Some time get wasted and some don’t. Nice place you got here.”
“Thank you, I’m still trying to get settled in.” I wanted him out of my apartment, but I am a civil person so I asked him if he would like some wine or a beer.
“Beer, if you have it,” he said. I hurried to the kitchen to get the beer.
“Are you married, Mister Oliver?” I called from the kitchen.
“No, not now,” he answered when I returned. “I done worn out three wives so far.” I led him to the living room and pointed to the sofa. “Thanks, this beer sure looks invitin’.” I raised my wine glass in a silent toast. “Not as invitin’ as some things, but still inviting.” Suddenly I realized the old man was flirting with me.
“Like was other things, Mister Oliver?” I asked. Damn! I was flirting back!
“Oh, a pretty spring day. A nice fishin’ hole, a pretty woman,” he laughed. “Not in that order, of course.”
“Reverse order?” I couldn’t help myself. I kept flirting with this man was old enough to be my father. No, old enough to be my grandfather.
“Yeah, a pretty woman would have to be first in any list of good things.” He drained his beer and I hurried to the kitchen to get him another one. “Not just any pretty woman,” he continued when I returned. “A woman in season heads the list.” He studied me and nodded to himself. “A woman, say, in her mid thirties, still full of juices and a longin’ to live. A woman who knows what she wants and goes after if. Like you Miz Elrod.”
“Like me?”
“Sure,” he said with a big smile. “A woman who has a need.”
“What need would that be, sir?”
“Well it might be loneliness, but I don’t think so. Not entirely. I think she’s a woman who has a hankering. “Course it might be curiosity.”
“Curiosity? Curious about what?”
“About whether an old nigger can give her what she needs. Does she want to satisfy her curiosity?” He didn’t give me an opportunity to answer. He stood, unzipped his pants and after fishing around inside pulled out a whopper of a cock. It wasn’t hard, but it was massive. If Pope was seven inches this old man had to have at least nine and it was as big around as Pope’s. “What do you think?” he asked while I was staring at his equipment.
“Does it work?” I managed to ask after clearing my throat a few times.
“Sure does,” he said with a laugh. “Works just fine. You can make it stiffer if you want.” He took a few steps and stopped in front of the chair I was on. Even while I was telling myself to stop this nonsense, my hand was reaching for it.
I put both hands on his cock and still couldn’t cover but half of it. I stroked it once then again. It came alive in my hand. It begin to stiffen and swell even larger.
“Kiss it, baby girl,” Mister Oliver said softly. “Make me hard so that I can fuck you like you need.” My pussy started gushing and I took as much as I could in my mouth. The ebony rod grew harder and I grew hotter until we both were humming with lust.
Somewhere in my mind I heard a voice asking what I was doing giving oral sex to an old black man. Another voice from back in my mind shouted ,”because you are a slut for black cock!” The second voice dominated. I sucked the old cock until it was rigid and throbbing in my hand and mouth.
I took Mister Oliver to my bed. While he lay naked on my bed I did a slow strip for him. He must have liked it because his cock stayed hard. Oliver’s cock was the largest I had ever attempted, but because I was so wet there wasn’t much trouble getting him in me.
The only difference in an old black man and the younger black men I had fucked was Mister Oliver was slower in recovering after ejecting his cum. I found that wasn’t a bad thing. It gave me time to bask in my orgasms. Mister Oliver told me he was from the old school and didn’t eat pussy. He certainly didn’t mind me sucking his cock. I could live without being eaten and I loved his cock so I figured I was still coming out ahead.
Over the next two weeks, Mister Oliver proved to be good medicine . In fact just what the doctor ordered. It was between Christmas and New Years that the wheels came off. Some nosy neighbor reported to the building manager that Mister Oliver was spending a lot of time in one of the apartments. I suppose my apartment was identified, but no one actually said so. Mister Oliver was allowed to retire instead of being fired. It sucked and I told the manager that, but it didn’t do any good. I felt terrible about getting Mister Oliver terminated so I called my accountant and transferred some stock into his name.
“You didn’t have to do that, little one,” Mister Oliver said. “I appreciate it, but it wasn’t necessary. I got my social security and another small pension. I’m gonna be fine. I got a grand daughter in North Carolina. Thinkin’ I’ll go stay with her.” I told him I thought it was good to be with family. “I’m a little worried ’bout you,” he said. We were both naked on my bed. He was toying with my nipples. I asked him why he was worried about me. “You got a real thing for black dicks,” he said. “I’m talkin’ real big thing, Miz Elrod.” We never got to a first name basis during our relationship. I thought that was strange, but it seemed to work for us.
“From what you told me, you lucked out before and you got lucky with me. By that I mean nobody has done you any harm. There’s a man I know, I’d like you to meet.” He stopped talking long enough to nip at my nipples. That was his sign he was about ready to go again. I took his stiffing member in my hand to confirm it. I rolled over and mounted him. It was another great fuck. Mister Oliver only had three positions, but he preferred me on top sitting the pace, as he called it.
Later when we were cleaning up, I asked him who. He looked at me blankly a moment.
“Who do you want me to meet?” I asked. He didn’t answer for a few minutes.
“I had this friend,” Mister Oliver said at last. “His name was Duke. Duke passed on last year, but he has a grandson who’s name is Rock. I want you to meet Rock.” (See “Rock’s Bitch”)
“Okay, but why?”
“You need a man to look after you Miz Elrod. Otherwise you are gonna get in a peck of trouble. Rock is a good man and he’ll take care of you.” I was a little miffed that Mister Oliver didn’t think I could take care of myself, but I was also curious. I asked for more details.
“Rock is a very successful business man. Owns a bunch of motels. He played football at Bama and some professional ball until his knee got blowed out. I want you to go see him in Alabama.”
“I don’t understand why I should travel all the way there just to see the grandson of some old crony of yours,” I said.
“I told you. Rock will take care of you. I done talked to him about you and he wants to meet you. Here’s his number, give him a call…for me, if nothing else.”
Mister Oliver left the following week for North Carolina. I knew I would miss him badly. I had grown used to him and his wonderful ebony cock.
It was actually late February when I made the call. I don’t suppose I would have made if I hadn’t been lonely and thought of Mister Oliver.
“Is this Rock?” I inquired when the phone was answered.
“It is indeed,” the cheerful voice said. “Who’s this?” I told him my name and started to tell him how I got his number when he interrupted me.
“Oh yes, Delmar Oliver’s friend. He told me about you. How are you doing?” Delmar? So that was his first name.
“I’m lonely,” I admitted. “I just happened to remember Mister Oliver mentioned you and I found your number. Is this a good time?”
“It’s a great time, Dawn. I’m sorry you’re lonely. That’s a terrible feeling and no one should have to experience it.” We talked for nearly an hour. Nothing of any importance, just comfortable conversation. Before it was over, I felt like we were old friends.
“So, when are you coming to visit me?” he asked. I stammered for a few moments without giving him an answer. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do.
“Why don’t you catch a flight Monday morning and plan to spend a week with me. I’ll show you the sites. Since I happen to own a couple of motels, I can get you a great suite. Come on, Dawn. You know you want to. Can you stand some adventure in your life?”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I said impulsively. “I’ll call you when I have the flight times.” END of part two