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Completely, Utterly, Totally

Black magic? Certainly it was black something …

The large TV screen was showing some dubious sports celebrity recently caught in flagrante delicto   by the world’s press.   His distraught trophy wife had been left at home while she thought he was off at some training camp.   Now said celebrity was apologising to his sponsors, the sport organisers, his team mates, the media, and anybody else who cared to listen.   “Do I care?   Not one jot!   Am I interested?   No!   Do I believe ...”

 

“Hey, easy there.   The guy’s only trying to get his sponsors back on-side.”

 

She looked up from her rant.   At the next table, laptop open in front – Oh no, she thought, that should be me – a man in his early thirties was looking quizzically at her.   “So you think if he reads out some crap PR script it makes it all acceptable?   His only remorse is that he got caught out!”

 

“I’m just saying the guy’s a living to earn, bills to pay, wife to support ...”   His voice trailed off as he saw the immediate flaw in his argument.   He was usually better than that.   But today was a day when things had gone from bad to worse.   “Look, sorry I spoke.   One of those days … the worst.”

 

Freya considered him.   Sturdily built, probably muscular.   Definitely good looking.   The cut of his white shirt and the neat knot in his tie showed he dressed well.   “You’ve not got the monopoly on those days.   Mine was, too.”

 

“Bet you’ve not just gone and lost your biggest Client.   The Board will skin me alive and hang me out to dry.”

 

“Are we talking blame here?”

 

“High visibility factor.”   He leant on the first word, drawing it out.   She nodded slowly, grasping that he was referring to his almost black skin.

 

“Me?   I’ve only had the Client from hell chewing me up and spitting me out in little pieces.”   She elaborated no further.

 

“What do the Americans call this?   Serendipity?   Perhaps we should go and drown our sorrows in a nice little bistro just around the corner?”

 

She couldn’t stop herself.   “Satan will be going to work on ice skates before I fall for that line!”

 

  “You don’t take prisoners.   Straight in, then bayonet the wounded after the battle was fought!”

 

“Sorry … shouldn’t have said that.”

 

“Not at all.   You’re right.”

 

“I know I’m right.”   She pulled herself up short before she added fuel to the fire.

 

“Yes,” he smiled, “you’re right.   But perhaps you would humour me, nonetheless?”

 

Freya looked him in the eye.   She saw no malice, no hidden agenda.

 

“Give me half an hour to make myself presentable.   But I don’t go for drinks with people I don’t know.   I’m Freya.”

 

“And I’m Gregory.   Gregory Marsden, I’m a loss adjuster … ironically.”   He laughed.

 

“And me?   I’m in Quality Management consultancy.”

 

“I bet that’s quality with a capital Q.   Half an hour then?   I’ll be here, standing to attention.”

 

She giggled over her shoulder to him as she headed for the lift.   Suddenly the day had grown brighter – for both of them.

 

Exactly thirty minutes later she emerged from the lift wearing a black shift dress with a synched-in waist and a decently-low   scooped neckline.   Over her shoulder was an orange leather handbag, and on her feet were black Sloane suede court shoes.   Gently chic, but still managing to look business-like.

 

“At your service ma’am, standing by my boots with my bed in my hand!”   He threw her a mock salute and her laughter tinkled across the hotel foyer.   She sashayed towards the door.   His eyes followed her progress, enjoying the view.

 

There was, indeed, a little bistro just around the corner.   L’Hirondelle was inviting, and they found a table with a window seat from which they could watch the evening world go by.   They each ordered a croque monsieur, and she let him choose a Chablis to accompany it.

 

One bottle of wine later, and having both set the world to rights (and discovered a discreet sufficiency of information about each other) he settled the bill and they returned to the hotel.   Each knew the other certainly had NO negative sex-appeal.   In fact, Freya had found herself increasingly wondering about black men in general, and Greg (she was now using his shortened name) in particular.

 

For his part, Greg was enjoying the natural urges of any red-blooded male when confronted with such a striking woman.   He’d watched her bum as she walked towards the door, and later at the bistro when she had gone to the ladies’ room.   He wanted more, much more.   He’d also spotted her eyes devouring him, even though she’d tried to hide her interest.   He would not let the opportunity slip away.

 

They walked back to the hotel, easy now in each other’s company, and waited for the lift.   “I don’t think the evening has ended yet.”   He said it simply, but gently.   The lift arrived.   He selected his floor, and when the doors opened he steered her towards his room.   There was no resistance.

 

Her first instinct was to check out the bed.   If his earlier clothes were thrown on it this was not a good idea.   A clear bed – his clothes had been put away.   Sub-consciously she breathed a sigh of relief.   It gave an almost imperceptible change to her carriage which wasn’t lost on Greg.   He took her in his arms, and with an “I’ve been wanting to do this all evening” he kissed her lips tenderly, yet purposefully.

 

Freya felt her left foot leaving the floor as she responded to his kiss – always a good sign!   His lips were soft, but demanding.   They tasted good.   His hands glided down her back to her bottom.   She didn’t remove them.   She felt his face against hers and his neck beneath her finger tips.   His skin was so lovely to the touch.   Was this because it was black?   How stupid!   But that thought wouldn’t go away.   She wanted to feel his skin against her whole body.

 

Greg wasn’t selfish.   Sex was a 2-way street where each person should be seduced, loved and then satisfied.   He didn’t rush her as her body responded to his careful attention.   He pressed his hands against the cheeks of her bum, enjoying their texture through her dress and pulling her closer to him as he did so.   He liked the way she responded, rubbing herself against him.   She would feel his arousal, for sure.

 

Her hands now started to find work, exploring his scalp as they kissed, flattening and pressing his shoulders so he was drawn more closely towards her breasts.   He reached down to pull her dress upwards, noting as he did so the urgency in her kiss increase.

 

She fell back onto the bed, clinging to him as she did so.   She kicked her shoes off as her dress came up and over her head.   Her legs were separated by his leg, and she could feel his swollen cock pressing hard against her belly.   Did she dare explore?   Of course she did, and her fingers snatched at his trousers, opening the buttons and drawing down the zip.

 

Her hand closed around his swollen cock … well, it nearly closed.   Its girth was amazing.   She gasped at its thickness.   “I don’t know what to say.”

 

“Then say nothing.”   His whispered reply was tender, taking account of the thoughts he sensed rushing through her mind.   He slipped his trousers down his legs, leaving her hand inside his shorts.   “That feels so good, Freya, your hand on my dick.”

 

Freya now found her earlier questions about the feel of his skin returning.   The enormity of his cock, for it was long as well as thick, could not be ignored.   It was the same skin texture on his shaft that she had felt on his neck.   Was it thicker, smoother, even tighter skin?   Was it the colour she could feel?   Was it the flesh that lay beneath the skin?   It was too much for her and she simply gave herself to the moment.

 

Her body relaxed into him and he took advantage by unfastening and removing her jade side-lace-up panties and matching bra.   Naked, her white body looked more than good to him.   He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it from his body.   For a moment he held her close, then relaxed his grip a little.

 

For her the contrast between his black skin and her whiteness was breathtaking.   She was mesmerised by what she saw.   He bent his head and lowered his lips to each nipple in turn, sucking on her and drawing her erect buds into even greater prominence.   She saw his powerful legs beside her own creamy thighs and found herself being drawn magnetically downwards towards those thighs and, inevitably, towards that massive cock.

 

He laid back to open himself to her.   “That’s right, cherub, time to get down close and personal.”   He guided her head towards his swollen dick.   Tentatively she kissed his shaft, thrilling to its firmness and allowing her lips to slide upwards towards its head.   She saw his pre-cum starting to form at its tip and licked it away.   A sweet taste, perhaps a little like apples?   It was irresistible.   Little by little she started to take him into her mouth, struggling to accommodate his thickness, but working on and off his now gleaming head until she was taking the full circumference between her lips.

 

She saw his colour up close, and she liked what she saw.   He watched his black dick starting to probe her pink lips.   A pre-cursor of more to come?   But time was on his side and he contented himself to wait and enjoy the little of his dick she could take into her mouth.

 

She worked the head of his cock as best she could.   It was so large that she struggled to breathe.   It was also tricky to mask her teeth with her lips.   Panting with desire further increased her difficulty.   Finally she lifted her head away and took hold of his shaft.   She trailed it between her breasts, downwards over her belly, and opened her thighs so that she could play it against her pussy.

 

”He’s all yours, Freya.   All yours.”   He emphasised the ‘all’ and an added frisson of desire ran through her body.   “Just take it nice and steadily, and you’ll find out just how much he is all yours.”   Again that emphasis and again that frisson.

 

She drew his cock up her slit, parting her lips and testing his hardness.   It felt intoxicating.   She pressed him against her clitoris and surprised herself with an almost immediate orgasm.   Her juices flooded onto his cock.

 

“That’s good, baby, really good.   You’re telling me you want it.” His voice was quiet, reassuring, and encouraging.   “Yes, you want my big black dick inside your sweet white pussy.   I know you do.   Tell me that’s what you want.”

 

“I do,” she whispered hoarsely.   “I so do.”

 

“Then take him, baby.   Take him like there’s no one else you want.   Take him slow and steady, like you’re worshiping him.   Take him like he’s the most precious thing you’ve ever seen or felt.   Give yourself to him – completely.”

 

With that he lifted her legs back, spreading her knees outwards with his muscular arms.   He guided his dick to her now opening lips and letting her feel his presence.   “Feel his heat, cherub.   Do you feel that?   Hot and hard he is, just for you.”   He pressed a little further and started to penetrate her tight pussy.   Hell, any pussy would have been tight on this cock, but hers was especially so.   “That’s good, baby, real good.   You’re doing fine.   Just give yourself to me baby.   Give!”

 

She found herself willing him to enter her like some self-fulfilling prophecy.   He started to stretch her lips wide open as he slid further into her, coming to rest after a mere 4 inches.   She couldn’t catch her breath as she felt herself opening to the thickest cock she could ever have imagined.   Length was unimportant here, it was his thickness that was mind-blowing.   He pulled back a little, only to re-enter her to that same depth.   Several times he did this, her slit becoming wetter and more accustomed to him.   Sweet.   Now he pushed further, perhaps another inch, then paused.

 

“You OK?”   As he spoke his deep voice seemed to make his dick vibrate and another orgasm forced itself from her.   She moaned as it burst over her, and as she did so he pressed still further into her.   Now he was driving into her, each stroke going a little further until she realised his body was pressing against her mound as his shaft buried itself deep within her.   Along with this realisation came wave after wave of body-shaking climax, each one making her moan and whimper, not with pain but from pleasure.

 

Greg fucked her gently but firmly, considerately and masterfully.   Now he sensed she craved more abandon so he gave her what she wanted.   Each stroke was slow and long – very long.   At the end of each stroke he pressed hard against her, titillating her clitoris with his finger tip so that her body endured an overload of sweet sensations.   There was no thought of resistance.   She just gave herself to his cock, taking it into her as if her very life depended upon it.   She had long lost count of the number of climaxes she had achieved, but now felt his own starting to build within him.   “Don’t stop,” she craved, “keep going, please?”

 

“I’m going to take you baby, completely, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me cumming.”   With that she felt his cock flood her with his own climax.   It burst free from his loins, up his shaft and deep into her hot and waiting pussy.   The volume of his orgasm was such that it forced itself out from her slit and onto her thighs.   He rested with his cock deep inside her, pumping his load into her in powerful spurts that seemed to reach right up somewhere beyond her belly.   Each hot and creamy gush was accompanied by her own orgasm which, of course, added to the wetness between her thighs.

 

“Quality, with a capital Q”.   He repeated what he had said earlier downstairs, but this time it was said while he was buried deep inside her.   Again she felt those vibrations.

 

He pulled back from her to force his head between her thighs, licking their combined juices and cleaning her.   She tried to protest.   “You’re not going anywhere, honey.   There’s more to come.”   Her trimmed white pussy yielded to his black lips and powerful tongue.

 

Freya was not used to being told what she could or couldn’t do.   But in this instance she offered no response because no response was required.   She had given herself to this man and paid for it with her heart.   She was totally won over and would have followed him, right now, to the ends of the earth to make sure she could retain what she had just found.

 

He finished licking her clean.   Lazily his fingers pulled yet another orgasm from her.   As he did so he whispered into her ear.   “You sure took him, baby, just like I said.   Seemed as if there’s no one else you want.   But what about taking him like he’s the most precious thing you can imagine?   What about worshiping him?   You like my big black dick enough to do those things, honey?”

 

She nodded as she moaned at the orgasm he was giving her.   “Say it then honey.   Say it.   Say you’ll give yourself to my big black dick – completely.”

 

His fingers paused their ministrations.   Now his mouth went to work on her nipples and she heard herself sighing “Completely.   I want to be yours completely.”

 

“Honey, that seemed a little tentative.   Did you say completely?   Just how completely do you want to give yourself to my big black dick?”

 

“Utterly.   I want your cock completely, your big black cock.   Totally.”

 

“Baby, let’s get this straight.   It’s a dick – a big black dick.   Got that?”

 

“OK, a dick.”

 

“So, say it again, what you want.   Let me hear it loud and clear.”

 

“I want your big black dick completely and utterly and totally.”

 

“That’s good, honey, real good.   And do you want me the same.   We come as a package.”

 

“I want you, damn you, Greg.   I want you so much, you and your big black preciously lovely dick.   I want you for god’s sake.   I want you! ”

 

“Then prepare to consecrate yourself at the altar of Greg Marsden, and submit yourself to serve me with your pretty white pussy.”   And so saying he rolled her onto her tummy and started to give her the most relaxing back massage she had ever had.   He spent at least 15 minutes stroking and caressing her neck and shoulders, her shoulder blades and spine, running his hands down to the base of her back and then up to start all over again.   She felt like she was floating beneath his magical fingers.   Now he played on that erogenous spot at the base of her spine where her cheeks started to separate.   She wriggled and squirmed beneath his touch, but he held her in place until she was almost still beneath his touch.

 

A couple of pillows were placed beneath her belly, and he massaged her bum.   Then down her thighs, the backs of her legs.   The soles of her feet were no longer ticklish because she was so relaxed.   When she passed this final test he took her to the next level of her worship.

 

Sharply he delivered, with each hand, a swift smack to each cheek of her bum, staying his hand where it had landed and massaging in circular motions until her skin burned hot beneath his touch.   These slaps had come right out of the blue.   Her relaxation was so deep she had no time to react before she felt her skin blush hot beneath his touch.   She positively tingled with the excitement it created.

 

He paused to re-position her slightly on the pillows.   “Stay there, honey, while I fetch the communion cup.”   He stood up and went over to the wardrobe, coming back almost immediately.   Again he started his massage of her back and admired his handiwork as her bottom glowed fiery red.

 

“Communion time,” he whispered into her ear and she felt something cold between the cheeks of her bottom.   She thought it was an ice cube and let his hands rub the coldness between her cheeks.   They probed deep between and found her rosebud.   More cold – another ice cube?   She relaxed further.   His fingers found their way, opening her gently and letting her feel more of that pleasing cold – it had to be an ice cube.   But now his fingers opened her still further, and she started to wonder.   By this time she was so relaxed she couldn’t resist.

 

His lips traced a trail of kisses down her spine and onto her bottom.   They nibbled at her creamy flesh and now she felt something warm on her rosebud – his tongue.   This was a new experience.   His hands continued massaging her cheeks, flaring them wide open to give access for his face and that probing warm tongue.

 

He rose to whisper in her ear.   “The staff of life.”   Where before there had been warmth she now felt heat.   His hands held her cheeks wide open and she definitely felt heat and pressure against her rosebud – and something else.   It suddenly dawned upon her what she could feel.

 

“Greg, no, please?”

 

“Hold the faith, honey, and worship with me.   You know you want me, completely, utterly, totally.   And that is how I want you and your beautiful white body.   This is what faith is about, babe, putting your trust in me and giving yourself over to me.”   With that he pressed the head of his dick a little harder against her bottom, forcing it to open just enough for the inside of her tunnel to feel the fullness of his heat, and the hardness of his dick.

 

Now he pressed a touch further and her muscles gave way to him sufficiently to engage with the tip of his dick.   He rested there, allowing her lips to begin to fold around him.   He held her there, letting her get used to this new sensation.   Her body pulsated, first with fear and then with growing wonder.

 

Amazingly, her ring was now starting to hold on to him.   They could both feel her opening to him.   He pressed again, whispering as he did so “This is my body that I give to you just as you give yours to me.”   His voice was now passionate and he slid in to her gently but very, very firmly.   Perhaps it wasn’t even a quarter of his shaft, but she felt as though she was going to split asunder with its fullness.   He now waited a full minute, counting the seconds under his breath.   She was so tight, so very deliciously tight.   But her muscles were relaxing onto him and he felt himself starting to slip further inside her clasp.

 

In steady strokes he entered and withdrew from her sweet bum, each one going just a fraction further.   His hands still held her cheeks open, and the sight of his black shaft disappearing inside her pink hole fuelled his arousal.   But he kept it in check.   There was no hurry.   He had claimed her.   Now it was time to make sure his claim was registered.   In and out, deep and shallow, slow and not so slow he pressed into her.   He constantly changed the pressure on her cheeks with his hands, sometimes opening her wider, sometimes pressing them tighter together.   Now he reached for another pillow and doubled it before stuffing it beneath the pillows on which she was perched.

 

Freya had never felt sensations like these.   She had gone from curiosity to desire, then from fear to amazement.   His big black dick was ploughing its hot furrow into her without respite.   She was not only yielding to his penetration, but trying to open herself to him and welcome him into her most secret place.   Yes – actually welcome him!   With the added doubled pillow beneath the two already in place she was raised high, exposed to his wishes, displayed to his gaze – and very available.   She felt another cold splash as he applied more lubrication, twitching as she did so with both expectation and need.  

 

But wait – yet   another pillow being doubled and placed beneath the existing pile.   She was now so high that she was totally defenceless and wide open to whatever he might choose to do.

 

Oh, another cold splash – heaven!   His dick increased its rhythm.   In and out he ran it, opening her up, deep into her innermost depths, then letting her close as he withdrew.   But wait, what was he doing now?   He was holding back, still inside her, but only just inside.   She pressed back to retrieve him but was not sufficiently strong to force herself back along his shaft.   He held her, marginally opened (in comparison with what had gone before) but now he started to trace his finger lightly and relentlessly around her ring as it was held open by his dick.   His other hand slid around to find her clitoris, both hands going to work simultaneously.

 

She felt herself opening and closing on him, but try as she might she could not get his dick to penetrate her further.   He held her like that and fingered each of those tender areas, giving her the maximum pleasure and, at the same time, denying her what she so desperately wanted.

 

From somewhere beyond her deepest awareness a huge orgasm rose up and burst from her, drenching his fingers.   “Good girl,” he growled, the strength and unleashed power of his body evident in the pitch and the tone of his words.   Now he relented and gave her what she wanted.   He started to pump his loins into her, thrusting with all his strength and, wonder of wonders, she felt her whole body responding.   She pressed back onto him, urgently, demanding his dick – and receiving it as her reward.   He kept the finger motions going around her ring and snatched orgasm after shuddering orgasm from her, the like of which she had never experienced.

 

Just as she thought she could take no more because her strength was totally spent he leaned forwards.   Into her ear he whispered “This is my life which I give you, just as you have given me yours.”   She squealed as a scalding torrent of cum sprayed right up inside her.   She felt it fill her, making his dick slurp as it still pumped into her.

 

Her strength was now no more.   She lay draped over the pile of pillows, exhausted, as he still pumped into her.   Stroke after beautiful stroke, each one releasing more of his seed into her until finally it was all done.   She lay immobile on the pillows, unable to move after the exquisite pleasure she had received.

 

  He pulled away from her and went into the bathroom.   She heard him arranging things and start the shower running.   Then he returned to the bed, scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the shower.   He bathed her completely, gently rubbing her body all over with the scented shower gel.   She was too tired to stand so she then sat on the floor beneath the warm jets while he cleansed himself.

 

“There’s just one more thing, honey.   If you really meant what you said …”

 

“My Yes means Yes,” she said, simply.

 

“Then I need to put my mark on you.”   From the soap rack he reached for a can of shaving gel and a razor.   “I’m going to shave you, baby.”   Without waiting for any answer he started to apply the gel, then deftly and expertly he shaved what remained of her pubic hair, leaving just a neatly shaped diamond on her mound.   “I want that sweet white pussy to feel me as close as can be.   That’s how I want you, and that’s how you’ll be.”

 

Freya didn’t argue.   For once in her life she had found what she truly wanted.   She also knew she had met her match and she knew when to keep quiet.   After all, why risk all this over a few words?   “And will you be the one who keeps me like this?   I’d like that.”

 

He towelled her dry and carried her into the bedroom, placing her gently on the bed.   He then massaged body lotion into her, all over.   “Sleep now, baby.   We’ve a lot to do tomorrow.   We need to start planning the rest of our lives.”

 

Her eyes were already closed, but she managed to reach down to clasp his lovely, large black dick.   Even flaccid it was still magnificent, and throbbed with latent power.   “Mmmmm, I’m liking the rest of our lives.   Tell me I’m not dreaming.”

 

“You’re not dreaming, honey.”   And to prove the point he felt compelled to lie her on her back and fuck her long and hard once again until, this time, she fell asleep.   Her body slackened as she started to let go of consciousness.   He rolled sideways then onto his back, taking her with him.   A totally relaxed Freya now sprawled on top of him, his dick still nestling firmly inside her pussy.   “That’s the sweetest white pussy, baby.   And the sweetest white bum.   From now on they’re all mine.” he said softly, “… all mine.”

 

Through the swirling mists of nearly-sleep she heard his voice, and somehow she conjured a response.   “Mmmm … completely … utterly … totally.”

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