This story assumes you have read part one.
As we moved away from the walk up bar and toward the train station/museum it was something after 1:30am. Although it was still quite warm, or perhaps because of it, a fairly heavy fog was rolling in and mist hung heavy in the air. This left everything wet and kind of surreal. I recall the antique street lights had a glowing aura about them which imparted a peach colored atmosphere for us to walk through. As we moved away from the center of the Strand with it’s lights and bands, we encountered fewer and fewer people. This combined with the fog and mist made us feel increasingly isolated. I recall the outline of the train station less than a block away and the single exposed light bulb over the door of a crummy bar next door.
As we stumbled aimlessly Tammy and Linda started making noises about how late it was and how we should be heading back to the hotel for the night. I may be biased but I thought they were just tired of being shown up by Jeena. Jeff and Ken were ambivalent but followed their wives when they turned back. I followed and thought we were about done for the night. When you have had as much to drink as we had, you get a form of tunnel vision which was exacerbated by the fog and mist. After walking a half block or so I looked first to one side and then the other and discovered that Jeena was NOT walking with the rest of us. I spun around rather unsteadily to see her almost disappearing into the fog. She had not changed course when the rest of us turned back. Of course I could not leave her behind so I told the friends we would catch up and turned to follow Jeena.
She was not walking very fast but I still was unable to gain much ground on her because I was not in great shape either. As she reached the front of the train station I was about fifty yards behind her when I saw her swerve to the left in the direction of the single light bulb above the door to the bar. At first I thought she was after another drink which she really did not need. As I drew nearer though I could see that three black guys had emerged from the bar and they were her target. A combination of dread and excitement came over me when I saw what was shaping up. What would she do? What would they do? What could I do anyway?
I trailed her by about twenty yards when I heard her offer to show her tits for beads. The lead guy who was very tall (6’6” at least) with a thin muscled basketball body said, “I aint need to see yo tits and I aint got no fuckin beads”.
Jeena then offered to show her pussy which caused the guy to pause and glance at his friends. The other guys (a Biggy Big sort of guy something over 300# and a small guy with dreadlocks) shook their heads and smiled. No one seemed to take notice of me as I lingered nervously at the edge of the scene. He then reached down the neck of his T-shirt and pulled out a chain with a small silver vile attached.
He said,” I give you some of this and you suck my dick”. He didn’t really state it as a request but rather as an order. Jeena looked up at this man more than a foot taller than she and nodded her head.
He unscrewed the top of the vile which exposed a tiny silver spoon, gave her some, and she staggered from the impact. He took her shoulders with both hands to steady her and to position her on her knees in front of him. Now she was in her element. She unzipped his fly, reached inside, and pulled out this horse sized cock. Even though it was hardly half erect, his cock was bigger around than Jeena’s wrist and she could only just get the head of it in her mouth.
As she started working him, he closed his eyes and got a far away but determined look on his face. She licked her hands and started jacking and sucking his really astonishing tool. Soon his cock was a full foot long with a purple bulbous head and he was starting to look like he would have something to feed her before long. I was leaning against the dumpster to the side of the bar and had a good side view of both of them. I thought,”OK, she will suck him off and we will be on our way”. Still none of them had acknowledged my presence or existence for that matter.
Soon he opened his eyes, scanned past me to the other side of the dumpster where some broken down cardboard boxes were wedged between the dumpster and the wall. He turn his head to the Rastafarian guy and said” take one of them flats and lay it down there”, indicating a place on the ground which would not be very visible from the street. Taking her shoulders in his hands, he stood her up and moved her over to the flat on the ground and sat her down on it.
It’s funny what you remember at times like these. I remember that her knees were almost black with water and grime from the street. He laid her back on the flat, dropped between her legs, and prepared to give her what would have to be the fuck of a life time. The spit he put on his fingers and then on the head of his dick would be the closest thing to lube or a condom she was going to see that night.
When he entered her he gave her the courtesy of exactly three half strokes before burying it to the balls with one hard thrust. Jeena threw her head back and fought back a scream as he forcefully held himself against her. She later told me that she thought the top of her head was going to come flying off when he gave her all of it for the first time. He then lifted her legs first over his elbows and then over his shoulders so he could get even deeper in her. Jeena gave it up willingly and made no attempt to restrain him or protect herself at all. He then leaned forward, placed his palms on the street on either side of her head, locked his elbows to form a fulcrum where his pelvis met her’s. Then he could lift his hips and drop his full weight down on her literally pounding her into the pavement.
She gasped loudly for the first several strokes and then accommodated herself even to that. He dropped his head near her’s and was saying things to her that I could not hear. I saw her looking at him intensely and nodding occasionally. She later told me he was saying things like, ”I gonna put a black baby in yo belly,” and “Do you want a black baby in yo belly”, and such. I could see her legs waving in the air with one shoe dangling by a strap over her curled toes and her dirty knees moving forward and then back. He then lifted his head, bared his clinched teeth and started to pump her full of cum. I could see drops of spit fly from his mouth and land on her face as he came.
After the moment passed, he dropped his head and withdrew from her. I momentarily considered that she was done and we could head out, but that was not the case. The guy looked at Biggy Big, nodded his head and moved away. By this time Jeena was flat on her back with arms and legs akimbo. Biggy knelt between her legs and dropped his pants below his immense ass.
From where I was, I could not see his junk but she later reported that, while not as big as the first guy’s, his was very respectable. As he guided his cock into her, he lay down over the top of her and started to thrust with rapid short strokes. When animals are bred it is called a “cover”. This time the term had a double meaning. He clearly was planning to breed her for sure and if the pill had failed that is just what would have happened, but also he was “covering” her to the point I could hardly see her.
Only her legs from knee to foot were visible on either side of his huge thrusting butt cheeks. I guess because of his physical condition, he did not fuck her terribly long before he started to grunt and plant his seed. This was probably for the best since I could not see how she could breathe for long under him. His butt cheeks clinched several times as he emptied his sack in my wife, and then he lifted away from her and left her gasping harder than he was. By now it was obvious what the plan was, so I just leaned against the dumpster and watched.
It came as no surprise to see the Rasta guy kneel between her legs next. Now, with this guy, Jeena reverted to type. She will fuck any way a man wants her to fuck, but her favorite is to wrap her arms and legs around the guy and be fucked more or less romantically with lots of kissing and such. He dropped is pants to his knees and pushed his ample cock inside her. The two went into a clinch and started grinding against each other. She later said she really liked the dreadlocks and kept her hands on them as much as possible.
She started lifting her legs to give him better access to her womb and gave as good as she got when it came to thrusting against him. Other than being fucked at after 2:00am on a piece of cardboard on a filthy street by a dumpster in Galveston Texas, this was a more normal coupling than the last two. The Rasta guy was better looking than the other two with a soccer player’s body and a nice stiff dick. They moved together for a good while until his thrusts became more persistent and determined. The urge hit them both at the same time and she locked her arms and legs around him and started to spasm toward a much needed orgasm. Feeling that, the Rasta guy followed suite and began to empty his balls into my wife as well. After he had relaxed some, he began to withdraw only to find her clutching him with no idea of him leaving her body.
When he did pull away, the three of them walked slowly away toward Broadway without saying anything to the cum slut stretched out on the street and without ever even acknowledging my existence. When I went over to help her up I could not keep from noticing the pool of semen on the cardboard between her legs. When she tightened her stomach muscles to stand up, a stream of three men’s cum gushed out of her, down her legs, on her shoe (the one that was still on), and onto the cardboard flat.
We made our way slowly back to the hotel. By now the fog was about 0-by-0 and we were not seeing too well to start with. We came through the lobby and up to our room. It was only later that I thought about that. The Tremont is a very nice historic hotel and those in the lobby witnessed two soggy people walking through. The woman had that “freshly fucked” look about her with dirty, muddy knees smelling of sex and black guys. As I fell asleep I thought, “If this is the first day of Mardi Gras, what’s next”?
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<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/exhibitionism/the-first-night-of-mardi-gras-part-ii.aspx">The First Night Of Mardi Gras Part II</a>