My Aspiration
I'm a tall, slim man with dark brown eyes and a rich mahogany skin tone. I have a moderate level of attractiveness and have experienced the typical enjoyable sex encounters, which are nothing special. What I truly yearn for, though, has never been achieved.
Love and sex have never gone together for me. I've had the experience of falling in love with black women who were potent and insatiable sexual beings. However, the issue has always been that I've always desired more from them than they could give. I've consistently chosen women who were just like me and shared my desires. These women were bold in terms of mental, physical, and social prowess, but in the bedroom, they were submissive and longed for men who could control and use them for their sexual gratification. They chose me because they assumed my strong alpha demeanor in the outside world would also apply in the bedroom. Unfortunately, they were disappointed to find out that I was sexually submissive and required domination from my lovers. Consequently, the relationships didn't last.
I don't aim to sound racist, but I'm not. The man I considered my father was white, and much of my intellectual growth is due to him. However, sexually, I tend to be attracted to black women. It's not that I don't find women of other races attractive - I do. But, sexually, I envision myself with black women. This notion exists even though I'm bisexual. What I want is that feminine allure that can control me with a simple pout or smile. I want her to be sexually adventurous, even to the point of being promiscuous. And I want her to feel comfortable enough with herself to be as perversely kinky as she desires. I want a woman who is not fearful of expressing her most deviant sexual inclinations and savoring the pleasures that result from expressing these aspects of herself.
I was once in love with a girl like that. She was a breathtakingly beautiful, light-skinned woman with a thin frame and a stunning face framed by mousy brown waves that cascaded down to her lower back. She resembled the porn star Heather Hunter and was preparing to establish herself as a fashion model when I left for California temporarily. Of course, due to the distance, we split up. Three years later, I returned home and encountered her mother. Her mother had always supported me and believed we were meant to be together. She invited me to dinner at her home, saying her daughter would be there and she thought she would like to see me. When she mentioned her daughter, I was startled. The innocent girl I left behind clearly had not stayed that way, as she was evidently not a virgin anymore and was about six months pregnant. However, it was not just her pregnancy that jolted me. What astonished me most was the arousing impact the sight of her had on me.
Any typical guy would have been enraged and heartbroken to discover that the girl they adored had been sleeping with another man. Upon seeing her pregnant and contemplating the idea of another man making love to her, I did experience some upset and fury. Nonetheless, mixed with those emotions was something more - I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I loved her. I also learned something about myself that I'd never realized - the sight of her pregnant and the thought of another man making love to her made me aroused. At that moment, more intensely than ever before, I craved her. I made my feelings clear to her, but she declined. She couldn't comprehend that I could love her enough to condone what had taken place and wouldn't take it out on the child. Yet, we did partake in several sexual encounters. She became increasingly promiscuous, giving birth to five children by different men, and when I learned about her actions, all I could think about was how things could have worked out if she had trusted her heart enough to give us a chance.
This account is a fantasy of how I wish that phase of my life had unfolded.
Across from Anisa (not her real name), I gazed at her, entranced by her beauty. My gaze glided over her entire stunning physique, from the top of her head to the cherry-colored polish on her toenails, inciting a searing thrill through my heart.
This girl was stunning. Her smooth, golden skin looked as if it had never been touched by the sun, making it even smoother. Her long, dark brown hair, cascaded down her back, reaching lower than the top of her buttocks. She had deep, almond-shaped eyes that were darker than her hair. Her lips were pouty and moist, leaving me wondering how soft they would feel. She had everything needed for a successful modeling career.
However, it was not just her face that made her stand out. Standing at only 5'4", she had a body that many models would die for. She had a slender frame with a little curve, similar to that of a delicate glass of champagne. Her breasts were round and full, nicely positioned on her chest. Her waist was slim, hitting her hips, which slightly stuck out. Her ass was delightful and petite, and her legs were long and sculpted, descending all the way down to her tiny feet. If it wasn't for her pregnancy, her belly would have been completely flat. Despite being pregnant, she still looked beautiful in my eyes.
Anisa noticed me staring at her. She usually would respond with a smile and a tease about it, but this time she remained silent. She gently ran her hand across her swollen stomach as she looked back at me.
"What brings you here, Marcos?" She asked quietly.
"What do you mean?" I replied innocently.
"I know you've been coming here, sitting with me and staring at me like a puppy dog. I can see the admiration and desire in your eyes. I want to know why."
"You already know the answer. Everyone in this house - your mother, brothers, sisters - they all know the answer. What, do you want me to say it out loud?" I questioned, dead serious.
"Fine then. I'm here because I'm still in love with you. I'm treating you the way I would treat a girlfriend because you are my girlfriend. You will always be my girlfriend."
I reached for her hand, looking into her eyes.
"How should I treat you? In our past, didn't I always treat you like a queen? Why would I treat you any differently now?"
Anisa pulled her hand away, but her stare never wavered.
"I thought you wouldn't want to be here because you're pregnant with someone else's child, that's why you left. You've barely called me in the past three years. So when you say that my love and respect for you hasn't changed, I'm entitled to know why you're here now."
I was taken aback by her statement that I had left and gone to California to avoid her. I looked down for a moment, then back at her.
"That's not true. I just went to California for a week of adventure. It wasn't a way for me to run away from you."
The anger in her eyes increased.
"But you left me. You left me alone. During those three years you were gone, you didn't call me once. So even if you didn't go to escape me, it's clear that you were content to be without me."
I sighed deeply before responding.
"That's not true. When I left, you were focusing on your career as a model. You were planning to move to New York and become famous. I didn't want to ask you to come to California and interrupt you and your dreams. I wanted you to achieve your goal and be happy. I didn't want to cause trouble."
For not getting in touch with you once I landed back in Pennsylvania, it was due to my assumption that you had finished what you had set out to do, and relocated to New York. There was no point in ringing if you weren't planning to be there.
Then, there came that scorching voice, with a touch of venomous undertones, which gives you the idea that calamity is about to strike - the voice she used when she was on the brink of turning belligerent. It was an inviting humming, with a noxious bite to its innards. "And so you abandoned me, imagining that I would be satisfied without you. Warmest regards for that. Your decision seems to have worked out spectacularly for both of us," she expressed.
She skimmed her gaze towards her swelled abdomen.
"Do you have an inkling regarding what transpired in my absence? No. Because you were away, absent, and I remained here. Therefore, I shall enlighten you with the specifics. A week after you left, when you were remote and hadn't meted out a single call, I shedded my virginity. I was seething and went to a bash with some other girls after a photo shoot. I didn't guzzle down an excessive amount; I haven't even sipped a bit of Coca-Cola. And I wasn't dropped into any drugs. I was simply seething at you and desired to avenge myself. And there was this guy, a curly-haired, blue-eyed, fair-skinned photographer, who had been salad dressing me all night. Hence, as he was trying to strike up a conversation, I grabbed his hand and guided him to one of the vacant rooms for some seclusion. That night drastically altered my destiny.
"The second he started hitting on me, Tony was being amicable and sweet. But as soon as we found ourselves in the room, he became ruthless and high-handed. Honestly, if I was to call him abusive, it would be justified. However, I actually enjoyed the way he rendered me. And how did he treat me? He assaulted me like I was a sex kitten. Like an unruly lass. A vile, dark female crafted specifically for his amusement. And I delighted in it.
"We spent the whole night in that room, and following we left it in the morning, he had jammed his bloated penis in every orifice I had. I sucked his straining penis thrice. I cherished the sensation of my soft brown flesh hugging his throbbing thickness, acknowledged the delight of witnessing it move over my tongue and drilling into my throat, and reveled in the perception of his salty, masculine aroma and precum inundating my taste buds. On two of those instances, I beseeched him to allow me to perform that. He also had sex with my vagina twice and my backside once. And, yes, I enjoyed that mammoth cock up my backside.
"It pained me at first. Tony's penis is ginormous, and the conception of his cock entering me initially had me begging him to desist. It appeared as if my anal canal was being rasped open and my intestines splitting apart. But once he picked up speed, he overpowered me and compelled me to tolerate it. By the time the whole thing slid into me, I was wailing in both agony and pleasure. Furthermore, before it culminated, he rolled us over, so I was riding his pulsating penis while he lay back, and instructed me to ravage it, which I accomplished with relish, slamming my ravished little black ass down obediently on his massive cock until it erupted hot and firmly inside me.
"The night that cost me my virginity fundamentally changed my life. During the first morning rays as he was giving me a concluding fuck before we left the hotel room, I realized that I yearned to experience a white cock once more and soon. So when Tony informed me that I was a steaming hot little nigger nymphet he intended to fuck frequently, I had zero objections. On the contrary, I prodded the idea.
"Jeez! Here's a bonus tidbit you'll find baffling. I take pleasure in it when white men refer to me as a nigger. I was astounded to discover it within myself."
"What about your baby daddy, is he the one culpable for your expecting?"
Anisa shrugged.
"Possibly not. It wasn't long subsequent to that first coital intercourse that Tony initiated me to his acquaintances. Soon, I was engaged in sexual intercourse with the vast majority of them. The charming white girls and guys I encountered at various pubs. And since I've always skirted using any preservatives, I could be impregnated by any of those men."
"Alright, so it's clear now that I'm not the same girl you knew when you left. I'm a white dick-loving, white pussy-eating nigger slut who will never stop having sex with white guys," she told me. "You can go back to your life in California and forget all about me."
"So you still love me?" I asked.
She looked away for a moment, then back at me with her fiery eyes.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, of course I still love you. But I hate you too. It's not about love, it's about something deeper," she said. "I'm a white cock whore. I can't get enough of it. I crave white cocks, and I'll always want them pounding my mouth, fucking my pussy, and plowing my tight black ass.
"I'm a white owned nigger whore. I enjoy being a white owned nigger whore. And I'll always want white men and women to treat me like the dirty little nigger bitch I am. You want me to behave like your sweet, innocent girlfriend, and that's never going to happen."
"I don't know what you really want," I replied, feeling a mixture of pain and sadness in my heart. As I stared at her, I realized she was experiencing the same emotions. I wished I could comfort her, but I couldn't say it out loud. "Maybe this is all about being stubborn."
"What's your truth then? Tell me if you're gay."
"I'm not gay. I'm more like bi, but not really. I'm fluid in my sexuality, and many things turn me on. If I had to label myself, I'd say I'm a hedonistic sub. I left you behind because you were a virgin and didn't have much experience."
"So it's true, you were trying to find someone else to fuck," she said angrily. "It wasn't because I was a pure and innocent girl, it was because you thought I wasn't slutty enough for you."
"There's more to it than that. I left because you couldn't bring yourself to use the right words. It wasn't just because you were a virgin or because you didn't put out. And I couldn't change you even if I wanted to..."
"So you ran away."
"Yes, I did. I ran to California and had a great time. But the whole time I was there, I couldn't stop thinking about you. Sometimes, even while I was having wild, kinky sex with other women, I would think of you. I would imagine you being as sexually wild as me, and it made the encounters even hotter. I wanted you to become as slutty as me, but I didn't know how to make it happen."
"I did," she said with a smirk. "I knew you were scared of what people would think if they knew the truth about your sexual desires. So, you left me behind to explore other options. And now, I'm enjoying the life of your dreams."
"I need a white guy to fuck me. That's what I've always fantasized about. Even when we were together, I would masturbate to fantasies of being taken by white men and women, used like a nigger sex slave," she admitted. "While you were away chasing your dreams, I was living mine."
"So, it seems both of us are living our own dreams."
"You're not understanding," she said. "I only sleep with white guys. That's all I want, and I'll never sleep with you. The most you can hope for is to eat my pussy."
"Oh, honey, I totally get it. It's actually you who doesn't comprehend. Maybe you missed it when I told you I'm a hedonist or a sub, or maybe you don't know what that implies." Seeing her silent reaction and the confusion on her face told me I needed to clarify. "What this means is that I'm a complete freak. I can handle that you're into white dicks and it turns me on a lot. Sitting here, my dick is rock hard just thinking about your beautiful black pussy getting filled by a big white cock. You say you're a white-owned girl, but you own me. You always have and always will. I love you and I want to be your mate. But the question is: What do you want?"
She gave me a shocked stare.
"You... You're serious."
"You bet!"
"So, you genuinely want to be with me even though you know I'll be sleeping with white guys? You can accept that?"
"Yup."
"I don't believe this. What. Are. You. Saying? Do you want to marry me? That doesn't make any sense. I'd be the most adulterous wife. And everyone would know I cheat on you. They would know it because I wouldn't try to hide it. And if they didn't find out by talking about it, they'd notice it when they see that all of my offspring are lighter than me and have no resemblance to you."
"Yep."
"I don't believe this shit. What are you saying? Do you want to marry me? That doesn't make sense. I'd be the most adulterous wife on the planet. And everybody would know I'm cheating on you. And if they didn't know through rumors, they'd figure it out when they see that all of the children I'm pregnant with are lighter than me and not a bit like you."
"I still want you. I want the crazy white cock-hungry woman you've become more than I craved the conservative woman you used to be. And about everyone knowing you cheat on me, it's not as frowned upon as it used to be. It's not the fifties anymore. Women get married and cheat on their husbands all the time now. They even have a term for it — hot-wives."
"Yeah? Well, nobody I know is doing that."
"And I'll bet that no other black woman you know is proclaiming herself to be a nigger bitch who loves white cock either. But I'm sure there are some, aren't there?"
"You really are a crazy motherfucker."
"Yep. And isn't that exactly what you need in your life? Look, you love me and I love you. We've been together for ages, so we know all the juicy details about each other. The only thing we didn't know was whether or not our sex drive would match. And now that we know it does, what else could we possibly want?"
"I don't trust you. The last time we were together, you just ran off to California and left me by myself."
"I know, baby. I feel awful. I'll never do that again." I gazed into her eyes and said, "And I'll tell you what. We'll do things at your pace and do whatever you want. That's what it's meant to be, right? I'm a sub, remember? You control me. I'll do anything you want me to do."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
"Okay," she said before grabbing my face roughly, similar to how she's been held by one of her white lovers. "Let's put that to the test right here and now." Her eyes narrowed, and this time there was a mischievous gleam in them. "We're going to have fun!"
Out of nowhere, my brain was flooded with a sequence of grotesque carnal images. I visualized myself watching as a procession of white men had their way with Anisa. I imagined the sight of their big white cocks opening up her black vagina to the max and ramming forcefully inside her. I pictured her exclaiming in pleasure and ecstasy while asking for more intensity. I imagined her climaxing multiple times as they had sex with her, then begging them to come in her. I imagined her telling them to treat her like a black street hooker and to fill her uterus with their load, warning them that she was a fertile young black woman and they should let her return to her husband with a white man's child within her. I saw her standing before me while I was on my knees, her hands holding the back of my head to forcefully push my face even further into her private parts, her hips moving to press her dripping pussy harshly against my mouth as I cleaned it of the oozing remnants of the cum from one of her white partners' sexual encounters. I saw her lowering herself over my face and telling me to open my mouth, then flood my tongue with a hot, bitter, pale yellow stream as she released her bladder's contents.
I experienced these visions and, furnaced by the heat, I was overtaken with desire. Keeping my gaze fixed on her, I raised my hand to pick up some saliva off my cheek, then put it in my mouth.
"Really? I think I'm going to love this," she smiled. "I'm truly going to have some disgustingly exciting fun with you."
I certainly hoped so.
However, it's a fact that it never happened the way I had fantasized. My greatest disappointment lies in the fact that it never did.
Read also:
- Savoring My Fresh Autonomy! [Ch. 03]
- I Hold Basketball Accountable: Chapter 1
- Cooper Abounds with Plenty
- Amidst Darkness, She Spots Illumination
Source: www.nice-escort.de
