“N-no, I haven’t,” I said. I was blushing red now.
“You’re no different that any other white man are you?” she said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Her eyes seemed more distant now. The bourbon must have been have a strong effect.
“Do you really want me to say it?” she anal fetishes asked.
“Yes, say it. Tell me how I’m no different than any other white man,” I replied.
“You’ve always wondered what it would be like to anal fetishes fuck a black woman,” she said matter of factly.
Somehow, I knew that she was going to say something like that. But I didn’t think that she would use the word ‘fuck’. I was stunned. But not too stunned to feel my cock getting hard at the thought.
I stood up in front of her and looked down into her eyes. “Yes, I have wondered,” I said. Gathering up my courage I said, “So how is fucking a black woman different than anal fetishes fucking a white woman?”
“Us Black women know what we need, and how to get it,” she said.
Her usual office persona was gone now anal fetishes, giving way to her natural soulful disposition. Her voice took on a natural rhythm as she spoke.
“We take what we need when we need it’” she said. Her voice was now seething.
She slid off the desk and stood in front of me looking deep into my eyes. Her hands reached around me and grabbed my ass. She pulled me hard against her and ground herself against me.
I felt a cool sweat on my forehead.
“You got what I need. Right now…” she
anal fetishes said in a firm voice.
“Here? In this office?” I asked in disbelief. “That’s not a good
anal fetishes idea!” I added in a sober voice.
“Fuck that! Tha’s why I wannit!” she said.
“Fraid your gonna lose your damn contract? Then you’re gonna miss a fuck you
anal fetishes won’t wanna miss…” she said. Her voice had a sulty hiss to it.
“You could be fired if were caught!” I said in a voice with extreme reason.
“So
anal fetishes?” she asked. “It’s just a JOB!”
“What
anal fetishes do you mean just a job?” I asked, buying time. I was freaked out. My reasoning was slipping away. My hard cock sure wasn’t.
Tha’s the difference between white and black…white’s let shit run their lives…blacks just know how to live!” she explained.
“So wha’s it gonna be?” she asked. “Ya gonna fuck me in Mirandas chair? I always
anal fetishes wannit to do it in her chair…” she added.
She smelled of bourbon (she was on her second) and subtle perfume. I picked up my glass and downed it. Fuck it I thought. She was right
anal fetishes. I didn’t run my life. Everything in it did. I was horrified at
anal fetishes the thought of losing the contract and ultimately my job, but somehow I wanted this black woman more.
My hands reached up and cupped her braless breasts. She moaned a bit. She let go of my ass and pulled her shirt out of her jeans and pulled
anal fetishes it over her head. The dark skin of
anal fetishes her breasts made my cock quiver. She knew it too.
“You like my black titties, huh?” she asked in an exaggerated drawl.
My hands and fingers kneaded them getting her nipples hard. I leaded down and sucked a nipple into my mouth. I could hear the sound of her buckle being undone. Her fingers opened the buttons on the fly of her jeans.
“You wanna see your first black pussy, then ya better let me get my pants off,” she said with a giggle.
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