For almost six months I had listened to Phillips persistent whining about seeing me teasingly flaunt my womanly charms before groups of men while scantly clothed. That in itself was bad enough but his sick fantasies of letting strange men use me for assorted sexual acts both disgusted and made me feel for the most part unappreciated and unloved. Never the less after months of listening to him belittle every thing from my clothes to my appearance in general l reluctantly relented. But in doing so I carried my acceptance to his sick request to the extreme.

On a lark I spent damn near a whole day and a ton of his money at the most expensive woman’s spa in Richmond before going to Elizabeth’s Dream. Among my purchases was a yellow leather mini skirt. A hip hugging mini skirt, that if you’ve read Car Trouble you’ll know fit me like a second skin and contained just barely enough material to cover the tops of my stockings. Of course I also purchased a pale chiffon silk blouse as well as matching silk lingerie and even a pair of four inch stiletto heels to complement my new look.

Dressed thusly and with my mind made up to please my husband it was inevitably that I would wind up living out one of his sick fantasies. Yet when the evening in question started out I’d like to think I hadn’t intended for it to go as far as it did. In truth I had thought the evening would be uneventful except for perhaps teasing Phillip with bad language along with provocative and suggestive body language. But as the evening at the club wore on I found myself more and more with someone other then my husband and I gloried in the looks as well as the whispered innuendoes I received.

While dancing with several of the men I did little to dissuade their advances, instead I tittered like a school girl whenever one of them whispered in my ear what they’d like to do with and to me. And their hands, God it was as if they were all blind the way their hands roamed over me. All the attention I received from so many strange men began to get to me, and in truth heightened my arousal and it wasn’t long before my inhibitions fell by the wayside.

Without thinking where it might lead but knowing that my actions would drive my husband crazy with jealousy I began to openly and shamelessly flirt with every man that came near me. My flirtatious behavior abruptly came to an end as while sandwiched between the grinding loins of two men on the dimly lit dance floor my husband in what I thought was a jealous rage at the time pulled me from between them calling me a shameless slut.

He literally dragged me to our car all the while nearly screaming that I was a slut, a wanton whore, that he was taking me to a motel and fuck my God damn brains out. Then laughing maniacally he sputtered that if his cock wasn’t enough for me well then he’d just come back to the club and gather up every son of a bitch that had been feeling me up all night then hand them the key to our motel room.

Not even on my wedding night three years earlier had I been as sexually aroused as I was that evening. As Phillip drove I pushed my hand beneath my skimpy skirt fingering myself to near orgasm while fantasizing of a night of orgasmic pleasure with him. But we never made it to a motel and I never made love to Phillip that night. Instead, and because of a near car accident, five men, well really four men and a teenager had sex with me, and other then Phillip lapping hungrily at my cum filled thoroughly fucked cunt he never did make love to me that night.

For countless days after my gang fucking the surreal event played repeatedly through my mind, and it didn’t make a difference whether I was at work, at home, awake or asleep. That I had found perverse pleasure in being dominated, in being made to perform sexual acts that I had previously only heard about in hushed whispers with not just one man but with five of them I couldn’t deny. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself otherwise I just couldn’t. But instead of capitulating to my desires as I so wanted to do I struggled against temptation till I thought I would loose my sanity.

That my husband had received mind numbing pleasure and in his own perverse way sexual gratification from watching me being so throughly used by five complete strangers I had little doubt. For each night as we lay in bed, and even as Phillip kissed and fondled my body in foreplay his cock became like a five inch rod. His vivid narration of how excited, how aroused he had gotten as he’d watched the five of them fuck me almost senseless would send shivers of arousal and a longing for a repeat through me. Then Phillip, despite his seeing, despite his explicate and accurate narration of the many ways in which I had been used would vent his lust in the missionary position.

Despite his rigidity his love making, and for that matter his staying power, was little different then it had been since our wedding night. As had been his custom for the last three years he would climb between my legs then, bim bam thank you ma’am and roll off. He would be satiated while I left wanting, what with all that had transpired that evening together with my mental state, would implore him to fuck me again.

Phillip wasn’t ignorant of the fact that he wasn’t totally satisfying me and he tried to make up for it by first finger fucking me then eating my snatch. While finger fucking me he would narrate any one of a dozen different scenarios his vivid imagination could conceive of me with other men. I’ll have to admit that the fantasies my husband envisioned and so clearly vocalized at those times helped. But his fingers were a poor substitute for a single hard driving stiff prick let alone five such as George, Rodney, John, Bill and the youth Tony had given me.

It was about this time that the last of my conservative dresses and stuffy business suits were replaced. The change had been gradual at first. A short skirt here, some sexy lingerie there but I wore them only for Phillip’s pleasure and never at work. Phillip began insisting I wear such clothes at all times, even to work. When I bulked he began throwing out my suits, dresses and jeans and replacing them with some of the most erotic clothes imaginable from local boutiques and mail order firms. At his insistences and even before my wardrobe had been completely replaced I began wearing what I considered the least provocative of my new clothes to work.

At first I had been self-conscious about wearing such revealing clothes but the attention I received from the men soon put my mind to rest. That they, like my husband, approved of my new attire there was little doubt. Instead of either treating me in a strictly professional manner or ignoring me altogether as they had so often done in the past the men began seeking me out. The best competence I can give is that I was like a brilliant flame to which moths were drawn. The door to my office became like a turnstile what with the mens coming and going. Their attention went beyond the office as well for within days of the change in my attire I was included in their after work visits to the local watering hole.

Such visits included having a few drinks, of which I never paid for a single one, as well as off color stories and even the occasional “innocent” feel. That I did little to dissuade such attention from the countless men and did in fact at times both encourage and shamelessly flirt with them was whispered about by several of the secretaries in attendance. My behavior became the whispered gossip of the office but I didn’t care for I loved the attention.

Yet despite all this I still hesitated to again wallow in depravity despite those gnawing desires as well as Phillip’s repeated whimpering request to see me again taken by strangers. Whether it was from fear of catching some communicable disease or simply fear of becoming a loose insatiable woman I can’t honestly say. My husband, seemingly lost in a fantasy world of his own, continually lived out in mind as well as voice the retelling of my gang fuck as well as other explicate scenario’s he envisioned me in. Scenario’s such as where a delivery man, or sometimes a service man, and once even a burglar, would repeatedly and sadistically use me.

To add spice to my husbands fantasies I began telling him about the men at work. Of their thinly veiled hints to fuck me as well as their groping hands when we stopped off for a drink after work. Phillip in his excitement began making up stories of his own concerning the various men and how they would fuck me. But he didn’t stop there, for at his whimpering request to role play some of the scenarios he reiterated I all to eagerly and readily went along. Though I wouldn’t admit it to myself at the time I knew deep down the real reason I was so willingly succumbing to his perverted way of thinking. It was because of a little yellow micro mini and the attention, not to mention the very through fucking, I had received from complete strangers while wearing it.

Phillip in trying to act out his part failed miserably in satisfying me though he himself was spent and satiated. I tried to fake orgasms but like his fucking I did so poorly that our role playing all but stopped. Yet despite this and even as he made love to me in the old missionary position he continued to narrate stories of me being used by multiple men. It became quickly evident from his repetitive telling of the various ways in which numerous underlings from my work place would satisfy their every sexual desire upon my petite 5 foot 6 107 pound 34 X 21 X 34 body that he was fixated with the possibility. Little were either of us aware that all to soon I would be put into a situation very reminiscent of the work place scenario he envisioned.

I should have known that such a thing was inevitable what with my behavior at the office and the bar but I honestly gave it little thought. Instead I continued to tease, continued to brazenly show a little to much creamy thigh and at times even a glimpse of my panties in a self imposed denial that anything could happen. Though I refused to admit that my behavior was effecting me nearly as much as the men I teased I found it increasingly harder to keep my mind on my work. There were times that as I sat at my desk scores of mens faces would float before me. Vivid imaginings of their bodies against mine, of their cock’s driving powerfully and repeatedly into me would encompass my thoughts to such an extent that every thing else would be blotted out.

Because my day dreams, or if you wish, my fanciful flights of fantasies were causing me to stare into space for as much as an hour or more at a time my work suffered. Though I myself wasn’t aware of it others were. After nearly a month of lackluster performance on my part I was called before the personal director and told in no uncertain terms to get my shit straight or take an extended vacation.

In a state of panic I became desperate, and in my desperation I flirted outrageously with him, despite the fact that he was old enough to be my father. Yet no amount of creamy thigh or fleeting glimpses of my panties seemed to sway the old son of a bitch. Unlike the scores of men I had flirted with and had wrapped around my finger he seemed to be impervious to my charms. As if speaking to a spoiled child he chided that my behavior might work on some men and that it very likely would serve a purpose at another time but not now.

With no other option left to me but to do the work the company pays and had paid me for but yet fuming about fucking up my weekend I stormed out of his office. Once back at my desk and after calming down I called my husband. I didn’t tell him about the backlog of work I should have finished days even weeks earlier. Neither did I tell him about the threat of loosing my job if I didn’t get it done. Instead I lied to him, told him that a client was contesting a denial of claim. That I would be working late into the night, quite possibly all day Saturday and maybe even a few hours Sunday to prepare for the court date which was scheduled for Monday morning.

After promising to call him if it wasn’t to late when I checked into a hotel we spent a few minutes in idol chatter. I don’t remember everything I said but I do remember telling him there was no reason for him to miss either that nights card game at Daniel’s house or his regular Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning golf games. Then exchanging I love you’s I hung up and attacked the nearly foot high stack of paperwork.

Hours after what I had believed was the last employee that was working late had said good night then killed the rows of lights in the outer office my head snapped up and blinking rapidly I glanced at the clock. I remember thinking oh God it’s 10:35 and I’ve hardly made a dent in the fucking stack. Where the hell did the time go? Surely I couldn’t have wasted it away daydreaming about which and how many of the men in the company would fuck me if given the chance. Looking again at the stack I moaned that at this rate I’d have to work ten, twelve hours a day the whole damn weekend and I probably still wouldn’t get it done.

Damn it to hell look where that ass hole of a husbands fantasies have gotten me. It’ll be a fucking miracle if I don’t get fired Monday. I swear to Christ if I ever catch myself daydreaming again I’ll just send out a company wide memo inviting every horny dick bastard that wants to bust his nuts to stop by my office. No doubt I’d be one busy and very popular little girl even if only half the men that the secretaries whisper have the hots for me take me up on the invitation. To hell with this I mumbled while reaching for then stuffing a goodly portion of the files into my briefcase and slamming it shut. Maybe if I got away from this place I could concentrate. Hell I might even finish enough of them that the old fart wouldn’t notice I hadn’t done them all. Before I do anything else though, and that includes checking into a hotel I’m going to have a drink or three.

Grabbing up my briefcase and laptop I strolled through the empty outer office then down the dimly lit stairwell to the parking garage where to my dismay I found that my car won’t start. I tried to call for a service truck but my cell phone kept loosing its signal. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what the hell else could possible happen I literally screamed. As I stood there trying to decide whether to go back to my office and the phone there or to just walk the three blocks to the hotel I heard a faint sound coming from the shadows off to my right. Whirling in the direction the sound had come from I stood there frozen, my heart thumping crazily in my chest. Am I so frazzled that my imagination is playing tricks on me or had I indeed heard what sounded like a muffled snicker I wondered as my eyes and ears tried to pierce the vail of darkness.

Suddenly right before me not more then a half dozen steps away the dark form of a man materialized as if from thin air asking if he might be of service. I wanted to scream hell yes you dumb shit but the ice cold grip of fear clutching at my heart from his sudden appearance prevented anything but unintelligible sputters to issue from my throat. As the grinning negro stepped ever nearer stories of white women being brutally raped by his kind flashed across my mind. Then my breath, which I hadn’t realized I had been holding until then whooshed abnormally loud in the otherwise silent garage as recognition dawned. Though I didn’t remember his name his face and position in the company as well as the fact that I’d teased him every bit as much and maybe more so then the white men stood stark in my mind.

Regaining my composer I smiled as sweetly at him as when I’d teasingly shown him a little to much thigh or blushingly adjusted my skirt after “accidently” letting him catch a glimpse of my panties. Stepping to him I placed my small hand on his bare muscular arm while in my best innocent little girl voice told him that my car wouldn’t start. At his offer to help, and after he popped the hood because I had just stood there stupidly when he’d asked me to do it, we leaned over the engine compartment together. Having never looked at an engine before I had no idea what to look for as far as spotting the possible cause of trouble. But all that was forgotten when together with slipping an arm about my waist he turned me to face him.

For some reason that I couldn’t fathom his nearness, his touch didn’t alarm me, didn’t make me want to slap and claw at him while screaming rape. Neither did I protest as his hand slid downward to grasp then begin to teasingly fondle my firm ass cheeks while pulling me even tighter to his body. My mind was a jumble of conflicting thoughts as his grinning face drew nearer to mine. As his thick lips pressed against mine and his tongue sought entrance to my mouth Phillip’s scenario of me being fucked by underlings flashed through my mind.

Unconsciously a soft giggle issued from my captured lips as the thought that though he was singular not plural he did qualify as an underling never the less. After all he did work in the company’s mail room and with the exception of the pimply faced stock boy you couldn’t get further beneath my station then he was. A shiver shoot through me as between my legs the dampness and heat, at first slowly then ever faster, began to intensify and spread

My mind was an array of conflicting emotions by the time he finally broke the kiss. But I had little chance to sort them out as his voice with a hint of mirth chuckled softly that my teasing days were over. That from now on I’d spread my legs for him and any others of his choosing. As I looked up into his face not fully comprehending his words he spat let me see that fine body what’s going to be pleasuring me bitch. To say I was dumbfounded by his change of mood and his demand would be an understatement and when I didn’t move his fingers tightened on my ass cheeks squeezing hurtfully. His repeated gruff command to strip bitch set me in motion and I hurriedly brought my trembling fingers to my blouse and fumbled with the buttons.

As my blouse parted he mumbled something to the effect kinda small but nice as he reached out and enclosed my left breast in his hand. Unexplainable the heat between my legs became like a forest fire as together with reaching beneath the front of my skirt and twiddling his fingers against the dampness there he chuckled damn but your wet bitch. I bet you can hardly wait to feel my big black dick pounding that pussy! Then his voice once more growing hard said the bra cunt, loose the bra.

With the stories of white women being brutally raped by his kind again flashing through my mind and not wanting to upset him I quickly unfastened the snap between my small but firm breast. Yet somehow I knew it wasn’t the stories that were making me comply to his orders, it was his authoritative domineering manner. The same authoritative and domineering manner that weeks earlier five complete strangers had used before and during their repeated use of my petite body. As if a light bulb had burst into brilliance in my brain the reason for my hesitation in allowing men, strange men to use me filled my consciousness.

Realization that all my shameless exhibitionism and flirting had been but in the hopes that some man would take charge of me washed over me. That instead of just whining and wishing for my compliance as my husband did the unrealized stranger would command me to satisfy his and hopefully his friends sexual appetite. What I had not envisioned not even in my wildest daydreams though was that the one who would dominate me would be a negro. For perhaps two quick breaths on his part but for what seemed like an eternity to me he simply looked at me as my bra fell to either side of my breast. Then together with running his tongue over his lips he lowered his face to my chest taking first one the the other of my nipples into his mouth.

My slight frame shivered visibly as together with his fingers that had never ceased in rubbing over my mound his teeth bit and gnawed ever harder on my nipples. A stuttering moan of pleasure spilled from my lips as together with shifting my stance to better afford him access to my pussy I grabbed his dread locks pulling his face tighter to my breast. Whether it was my imagination or whether he actually muttered I was his bitch, his white slut to use however and whenever he wished I’m not certain but a small explosion erupted between my legs. Even as his face lifted from my chest one of his fingers slipped into my panties and pushed into my wet pussy and without forethought my hips jerked in response. My breathing was such that I almost didn’t hear his chuckled command to give him some sugar and to damn sure do it like I meant it.

Throwing my arms about his neck I turned my face to his and a soulful moan escaped my slightly parted lips a micro second they met his. As if it were the last kiss I’d ever receive I ground my lips against his while hungrily sucking his tongue into my mouth. My hips danced and rotated against and around his plunging finger as my mind fantasized that instead of it being his tongue in my mouth it was his dick. I couldn’t breath, couldn’t think as for the first time in weeks someone’s fingers, someone’s mouth other then my husbands touched me. That it was a negro made little difference as together with me sucking on his tongue as if it were a dick he pushed another finger into me.

My mind was such that I was hardly aware that his lips had left mine and traveled over my throat then down to my chest until his lips had once more captured my nipple. The pounding in my ears as his tongue stabbed at and his teeth nipped each pebble hard nipple in turn all but drowned his mumbled words but with some difficulty I managed to grasp what he was saying. Heat as if from a roaring bonfire engulfed me and a quivering admission that he was spilled from my lips in answer to his chuckled question who’s your daddy slut.

Again his muffled voice touched my ears and though I struggle to grasp their meaning I was unable to because of my state of mind. His teeth biting, chewing my nipples and a third finger joining the other two already sawing into me made rational thought all but impossible. Just as I believed an orgasm was about to erupt through me because of his administrations though he released me and stepped back. For a moment I stood there on quivering legs looking at him through passion glazed eyes uncertain as to what he wanted me to do. Did he want, expect me to fall to the hard cold concrete floor at his feet or did he perhaps want me to led him back to my office? Then the decision was made for me as he opened the back door of my car.

Eagerly and without hesitation I stepped around him then crawled onto the back seat of my car. As I rolled onto my back my short skirt bunched up around my waist allowing him an unhindered view of my sopping panties. Without being told I pushed my fingers beneath the band of my hip hugger panties then slid them down and off as he grinning hugely slid his zipper down and pulled his cock from his pants. My thoughts became jumbled as the grinning negro’s cock like a mixture of several of Phillip’s fantasies danced before my fluttering eyes.

“Yes” was my sole gasping answer to his chuckling inquiry was I his slut, his white bitch to use whenever, however he desired. But that was as nothing compared to my plea filled nearly hysterical sob of “yes, oh God yes” that tumbled from my lips in answer to his chuckling taunt, promise to share me with his friends. Then together with grabbing my thighs and pulling my legs apart he yanked me almost from my car while mirthlessly chuckling I knew just one cock wouldn’t be enough for you slut. But before I shares you with my bros. you cock hungry cunt best worry bout pleasuring me first.

As he pushed my legs up then dropped them over his shoulders I reached between our bodies grasping at then pulling his thick cock to me in obedience to his savagely hissed you wants my black ass to fuck you bitch you stick it in. It was as the heavy bulbous head of his dark cock began to push my lips apart that I almost giggled out loud as the realization that just beyond his head hanging lewdly from my left foot were my panties which in my excitement and hurry to remove them had somehow gotten tangled around my four inch pumps.

Despite the strangeness of my position I was able to lunge upward from the car seat pushing even more of his cock into me. Though I tried to prolong the wonderful feeling of his filling me when he grabbed my slim waist and yanked me up and against him my wetness, my eagerness was such that every centimeter of his eight, nine inch cock burrowed into me with that one hard thrust. My breath came in ragged gasp and my stiletto heels beat a tattoo against his shoulder blades as again and again and yet again he lunged forcefully almost sadistically into me. Taunts of fuck your master you white trash whore, show me how much you likes my nigger cock plowing your filthy snatch were answered not only by a doubling of my efforts to lunge up to him as forcefully as he was lunging into me but with whimpering sobs. Sobs for him to fuck me, to shove his wonderful black dick into me harder, deeper, to fill his white whore with his dark seed repeatedly spilled from my trembling lips.

A part of my brain that somehow managed to retain some capability of thought wondered how it was that this negro youth who in all probability was no older then nineteen could dominate me so. How it was that he could have me whimperingly pleading to be his slut, his sex toy to be passed amongst his friends. Then my wonderment vanished like early morning fog as for the umpteenth time as together with his wonderful cock slamming into my uterus his golf ball size testicles slapped soundly against my rotating lunging ass cheeks. For untold minutes as he lunged into me and I upwards against him indistinct hazy faces that I imagined were those of the countless men I had shamelessly flirted with hovered just beyond and around him.

Then my vision cleared and I realized that the grinning faces looking down at me weren’t those of the men I had fantasized them to be but instead those of at least a half dozen or so other negro’s. Every cell in the mush jokingly called my brain should have signaled me to scream in alarm at their sudden appearance but they didn’t. Instead they formed a kaleidoscope of images of me writhing beneath those that were even then encouraging the youth I had acknowledged as being my master to pound that pussy. Their eager voices became like a chant as they urged Joseph to hurry the fuck up and bust his nuts so they too could have a crack at my ass as he’d promised they could.

My petit curvaceous body quivered with what I can only describe as excitement and yes anticipation as my mind fantasized the other negro’s using me after Joseph had filled my womb with his seed. With all the strength and dexterity my petite twenty seven year old body was capable of I lunged and bucked against the youth fucking me. That I was doing so in a purely selfish need to both hasten his finish and thus the taking of my body by the others I was well aware of, but I couldn’t help myself. The sudden appearance of the other negro’s had awakened the memory of my other gang fucking, had awakened the pleasure I had received as well as given while being used by multiple men. With a warbling cry of fuck me master, fuck your white whore’s filthy cunt then give me to your friends I clung to his shoulders while grinding my loins to his for all I was worth.

With a grunt like that of a savage animal the youth who I had just vocally acknowledged as my master before his friends lunged deeply into me a last time. As his spunk flooded my insides my own climax roared through me causing every nerve ending in my body to short circuit and for a time I lost touch with reality. Not until a strange voice hissed into my ear thats it, thats it you fucking white slut, take my black dick did I realize that Joseph’s place between my legs had been taken by another. My body, already moving of its own accord was encouraged to even greater response as my addled brain digested and clung to the negro’s taunts. Obediently together with arching from the seat of my car my pelvis ground against the new negro’s pile driving loins. Whimpering pleas of fuck me, fuck Joseph’s slut spilled repeatedly from my trembling lips. My soulful pleas were soon silenced though when another of their number opened the other door and knelt at my head.

The aroma of stale body odor that wafted from his open fly as he unzipped himself should have repulsed me but it didn’t. Instead it was as an aphrodisiac to my already highly sex charged libido. Even as his hands closed on the sides of my face both pushing downward yet cocking my face back thus causing my shoulders to rise from the seat I readily opened my mouth. For a fleeting moment the negro whom my legs were wrapped around and who was even still lunging into me in quick spastic jerks was forgotten as the uncircumcised head of the negro’s cock pushed between my parted lips.

I had thought to suck him, to pay homage to him as I had the cock’s of the five strangers weeks earlier, but that wasn’t what he wanted. With chants of fuck the white bitches throat nigger ringing through the underground garage he pushed relentlessly forward not stopping until my lips were stretched tightly about the thick base of his cock and his nut sack slapped my forehead. I can only imagine that the reason I didn’t gag as his cock pushed into and filled my throat was because of the angle at which he was holding my head. With the cock lodged in my throat breathing became difficult as with each forceful lunge into me from the one between my legs more air was forced from my lungs then my nostrils could draw in. Then mercifully, just as I thought I would either loose consciousness or die the cock in my throat withdrew allowing my oxygen starved lungs to fill.

A minute, an hour flew by before the two negro’s first clumsy attempts at using me simultaneously sank into a synchronies rhythm. Continuous small orgasms rippled through me as first one then the other pushed deeply and forcefully into my cunt and mouth. The chanting voices, the grunts and taunts of the two animalisticly thrusting their cock’s into me from either end faded to background static as my husbands fantasy in which two black men break into our house and sadistically and repeatedly use me plays in an endless loop through the gray jumbled mass of my brain. Only the momentary lapse of either my cunt or throat clinging to, massaging a rapidly thrusting cock signals my frazzled brain that the ones using me have emptied their thick globular spunk into me and will in short order be replaced by another.

Time and reality were a meaningless concept too me as my body, in response to its repeated continuous use by the negro’s, convulses in endless orgasmic pleasure. Pleasure even more mind numbing then that at the hands of the five white strangers weeks earlier.

“There Ms Sherri, that should fix the problem. Just a loose battery cable but you best get it looked at by your mechanic anyway just to make sure nothing else is wrong.”

– The End –