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Kate's Enlightenment

It's strange how some things work out. Kate's story should be a lesson to many married women.
Hi my name is Kate and I have a story to tell you about my lifestyle change and how it changed my life.

I had been married to Steve for 20 years when the first incident took place and it set in motion a chain of events I could neither have foreseen nor seemed to have any real control over once it started.
Whilst living in the suburbs of London, I had a group of friends who were a mixture of single, engaged and married women, varying in ages from late 20s to 40’s like me. We often met as a group or as couples with our respective husbands or partners. Our social life was a mixture of lunches, parties, weekends and holidays with various members of the group throughout the year.

We seemed to gravitate to one couple, Kirsten and Philip, in particular. Kirsten was a striking blonde beauty, she was tall, elegant and very powerful in her job with a city bank. As a confident, decisive strong-willed lady, she never failed to have an opinion on almost any topic. She had been married to Simon, who also worked in the bank, but this had ended a year before, when she had discovered that he had bedded one of the receptionists, just before their wedding. The divorce was almost complete. It had been a bitter battle and she had been cited as an adulterer in the divorce action, with her new partner, Philip.

Philip was working as a contractor in the IT department of the bank and he and Kirsten had embarked upon a torrid affair, initiated originally by Philip’s pursuit of Kirsten with flirting and periods of sexual innuendo in the office and also at staff social gatherings. This had quickly evolved and each was as blatant as the other after a few weeks. One night, Kirsten had been working late at the bank and had called IT to report a computer fault, for which she required immediate rectification, in order to continue with her work. Philip had been the on-call engineer and had gone to Kirsten’s office to assist. Kirsten confirmed to me later that, as Philip had worked on her computer, she had experienced very strong lustful desires while watching him from her seat at the side of her desk. She could sense him becoming aroused as her silk nylons had swished and crackled when she shifted her legs to clamp her pussy, as she too became more and more aroused.

When I asked her what had finally burst the dam of lust she had been storing up for months, she told me that it was the realisation that for the first time they were alone together, in familiar surroundings where she felt comfortable and that the time was “just right.” She felt that the stars had aligned to offer her this opportunity and her body was not going to be denied.

As she put it crudely,” Fuck’s sake, Kate, we have been practically humping each other visually now for months and it was going to happen sooner or later.”

She cared not one iota at that moment - as she hitched her short skirt up, exposed her sheer nylon stockings and matching blue silk knickers and huskily breathed, “Philip” - that she was about to cheat on her husband and start a scandalous affair with the gorgeously suave and much sought-after black man.

She confided later that not only was he “hung like a donkey” but that Philip was an attentive, generous and kind companion. He was single, well paid, extremely good looking and seeking nothing in the way of commitment, marriage or even the beginnings of a long term, formal relationship. He was happy fucking the brains out of the gorgeous, blond, married white bitch who was so uppity around the office but who swore and creamed up like a cheap whore whenever he laid his big hands on her pale, milky skin. She was hooked on his colour and his very, very large dick. And she just loved the situation the way it was.

This led her to discussing Philip’s merits with me one night, as we sipped cocktails in an expensive wine bar in Kensington.

“How’s the divorce proceeding?” I had enquired.

“Oh Simon is being fucking awkward as usual” she said dismissively.

I couldn’t help feeling just a little sorry for Simon, whose life had been turned on its head when she had informed him that she was leaving him for her new “boyfriend”. His indiscretion had been before marriage, her revenge had been almost calculated in its intensity and also the choice of the black and powerful Philip had only rubbed salt in Simon’s considerable wounds. Especially when Kirsten had informed him that “Philip had touched her in places Simon couldn’t reach with his arm”. My god, what a bitch!

“He’s quibbling about the cars and the pension contributions. As far as I care, he can have them, just as long as he gets out of the house and agrees to the split the way I have suggested it be” she groaned in a very “couldn’t be doing with all this hassle” attitude. "I just want him out so that Philip and I can begin using the place. As much as I like going to Philip’s apartment, I really would like to get him into my big king-sized bed and have him do me where Simon used to.

“Why did you choose Philip to exact your revenge on Simon?” I asked.

“Are you kidding me?” she replied. “He couldn’t be any more different from Simon. I mean, looks, colour, job, how he treats me and of course in his trouser department” she laughed.

“Yeah, but you couldn’t have known that before you started seeing him” I quipped.

“No, but they are all hung aren’t they?” she replied, squinting at me.

“I wouldn’t actually know, but the myths would have you believe that” I said.

“Well perhaps it’s about time you also found out for certain” she replied.

“And just why do you think I would even wish to find out, as if I am looking for an answer?” I challenged her.

“Don’t tell me you aren’t just a little bit intrigued Kate?”

“Not in the slightest. In fact, this is actually the first time the topic has ever come up and been talked about,” I replied.

“Yes, but I’ve seen the way you look at Philip when we are all in company together. You wonder don’t you? Wonder what it would be like to be touched, to see the contrast of his skin on yours. Wonder what his hands would feel like on your skin, between your legs, on your tits. Wondered if his cock really is as big as I say it is. Well, let me assure you, dear friend, it is. Philip has the most exquisite cock you could ever imagine. And yes, it does touch places inside me that I never would have thought possible. So you just carry on thinking about that, or do something about it.”

“Christ, Kirsten, what’s gotten in to you? I am happily married, have good sex and have no reason to cheat on Steve, even if I did want to. Just because you are seeking revenge on a grand scale doesn’t imply that I want some of what you are having, now does it? I asked her.

“No, it doesn’t Kate. But if I didn’t explain to you the feelings that Philip brings to me, then I would be in dereliction of my sisterly duties to my friend, by not letting her into a big secret. Black cock is not only bigger, better and thicker – it’s that the guy on the end of it has a power that is unique. They know it’s wrong, we know it’s wrong, but the act of doing something wrong is the entire thrill. Sure - you could fuck a really well hung white guy and the stretching would be there, the feeling of fullness would be there. But, the sensation of that stretching cock being black is the mental trigger to explosive sex. It’s wrong. We’ve been brought up to think that way. We never mixed, interacted, lived close to each other or allowed our races to intermingle without some form of resistance to get in the way. But the taboo is the aphrodisiac. Deep down all of us white women crave and desire the invasion of our bodies by a powerful, silky, shiny black male and that, darling, is a fact!”

That of course should have been the end of the matter but, the fact that I am writing this probably tells you that it wasn’t.

Weeks later, we were all invited to a going away party for another of our circle, Claire, who was moving to the West Country to take up the life of a country lady. Claire was marrying Craig, a much older investment banker who had invested wisely over the years and was now offering Claire the chance to marry him and become a trophy wife. The fringe benefits appeared to be a limitless supply of money, 150 acres of moor land and pasture for his 20 thoroughbred horses. Claire loved horses.

Steve, my husband, was on a project in the Middle East during the week in which we were arranging the night out so it made sense for me to book a hotel room in the city rather than try to get home on a tube late at night. I checked in straight after work and relaxed in a foamy bubble bath before dressing. I had packed evening lingerie as well as replacements for work the next day and after slipping the silky, dark pink panties over my freshly shaved legs and pussy I donned the matching bra. I examined my 45 year-old figure in the mirror and complimented myself on how curvy and well-preserved I thought I looked for my age. Keeping fit was never easy but the combination of the gym and horse riding had managed to keep me reasonably taut and fat free. It impressed Steve sufficiently that he commented often how good I looked and I loved him even more for that.

Applying light make up and glossy lipstick, I slipped into a deep pink, silk blouse and a black knee-length suede skirt. Completing the attire were heels and pearls. I felt very relaxed and ready for a night out in the summer evening of the capital. I almost forgot to spray on my favourite perfume but remembered as I made my way out the door.

Kirsten and the other girls were in the pub where we had agreed to meet. I soon had a gin and tonic and joined in with the general chat that was bouncing around between us all. Kirsten eventually ended up by my side and we chatted and caught up on what we had been up to in the week or so since “that” chat.

During the remainder of the evening in the many various pubs and clubs we frequented, Kirsten seemed to take every opportunity to chat with black guys. It almost seemed that they somehow knew she was already with someone of their creed. I wondered if she was giving off some kind of subliminal signal that they read or whether, it was simply a case of her being direct with the guys and totally at ease, given her current lover. Who knows, but she certainly attracted plenty of attention in each venue.

“I wish Philip was here right now,” she told me after sashaying her way around the club we were currently in. “I’m almost ready to go home and play” she announced, still eyeing up the group of guys she had just left. “Jerome and his posse have invited us to a club they are off to but I fancy heading off home pretty soon” she added. “How about you Kate?”

“How about me, what?” I replied, somewhat unsure of what she exactly meant.

“Wouldn’t you like to go for a dance with Jerome and his friends?”

“Ha, I don’t think so” I quickly countered. “I don’t wish to go on anywhere else tonight but would be happy to stay here for a while longer and have a dance.”

“Come on then - let’s get out there and shake that peachy ass of yours!” Shrieked Kirsten.

Three or four of us made it onto the floor and amongst much hilarity and fooling around, we danced to some good old disco tracks.

A few of the girls were approached by some guys seeking to dance with them. They joined our little group and soon began to dance with all of us in turn. Around this time, Jerome and his friends had moved around the club and were standing near our table. Kirsten noticed them and indicated to me that she was going over to talk to them. She motioned to me with her head to follow her and I made my way over to where she was.

“Jerome, this is my very good friend Kate, Kate - Jerome.”

As he reached out his hand to greet me I caught him looking intensely at me. He took my hand and much to my surprise he was ever so gentle in his touch for such a big man.

“Delighted to meet you, Kate,” he said, in a very well spoken voice, so rich and deep it resonated around me, even in the noisy club.

“Thank you, it's lovely to meet you too,” I replied.

“This is Chris and James,” he said introducing his two friends.

“Hi, nice to meet you all,” I said whilst shaking hands with each of them in turn.

“You are a great dancer,” said James. “We were watching you and you move very well. Perhaps I could ask for the honour?” He continued. He flashed me a huge smile from his very handsome face (he really was very good looking) and stared into my eyes.

“Well, I really don’t dance so well James, but I could give it a whirl,” I told him.

The music was a pounding, modern dance track and we danced among the hundreds of much younger people on the floor. It was too loud for chat so we mainly danced and just smiled occasionally at each other as we moved to the music. The pace eventually slowed and James danced closer to me. He reached out his hand to, what I thought was to take mine for a twirl but instead reeled me closer to him and held me in an almost waltz like position.

“You dance well,” he said again.

“Not so up to speed with the more modern tempo,” I replied.

“Perhaps this pace will suit you more,” he said as he moved closer and we turned and moved together.

James’ right arm was around my waist and his hand was placed in the small of my back, as he moved me around the floor. His left hand held my right hand and he continued to sway around and against me, as he worked his way in a bit closer to me. I felt uncomfortable dancing so close to another man, a much younger man but I was enjoying the dancing.

James began asking questions and making conversation and we continued like this for a few numbers. The pace of the music increased again and I intimated that I wanted to leave the floor. James led me off towards the group, still clutching my hand in his. I didn’t make a scene but felt he was just a little too familiar.

We reached our table and the group had been sitting chatting and some had danced at the same time we were on the floor.

Kirsten sidled around beside me and leaned in to whisper in my ear; “You looked good.”

“Thanks Kirsten but I really don’t dance that well,” I replied.

“No, you looked good, as in well, together – you and James,” she whispered.

“He is a much better dancer than me," I replied.

“No Kate, I meant that you the gorgeous, mature blonde look great together with James, the young black hunk.”

I looked at Kirsten, ready to tell her to quit the nonsense again and met her gaze as she just smirked at me, raised her eyebrows suggestively and muttered, “Think about it Kate,” and turned and headed away.

I was stopped in my tracks. Much to my surprise I did think about it. What must I have looked like? A white, married, mature woman dancing in a night club with a black man, twenty years my junior. I looked around and no-one seemed to be taking the slightest bit of notice as to who was doing what with whom. I sort of calmed down then and realised that perhaps I was being too sensitive and ought to just enjoy the opportunity to dance and dismissed the assumption that I looked silly.

I had certainly never thought of the black and white thing sexually, only recently when Kirsten had begun her affair and was continually talking to me about it. Now that I thought about it I felt a slight tingle in my lower tummy and had a sudden mental image of me on a bed and a black man crouched over me, kissing me on the mouth.

“A penny for them...”

I nearly jumped out of my skin when James breathed that into my ear.

“Oh my God, James! You startled me, sorry I was miles away there.”

“I’m sorry, Kate, you looked like you were in a trance,” he laughed.

“I’m not sure where I was actually, James,” and almost added, “And you might have been there with me,” but kept this last thought to myself. What the hell was I thinking?

As the night wore on, I danced with Jerome, Chris and James again. I also danced with Kirsten and the girls but it seemed that I was hardly off the floor as each of the guys took turns asking me up.

As we were sitting resting and having a drink I rubbed my right calf muscle, which felt like it had the beginnings of an ache or cramp. James, who was sitting opposite me, was watching me and told me to put my foot up on his chair and he would give it a massage.

“I’m fine, honestly, but thanks James."

“I’m a physiotherapist, now put your foot up and I will check it and massage it properly,” he insisted.

I couldn’t really refuse and slowly lifted my foot up onto the edge of his chair, between his spread legs.

The moment his hand cupped my calf muscle I jolted and almost involuntarily pulled my leg away. When James asked if it had hurt I couldn’t tell him the jolt was not from pain but from seeing his large black hand on my pale skin. It felt like an electric bolt had shot through me and the tingle in my tummy was back.

Was I turned on? From experience it felt like it.

Was being handled by this black beauty and his friends actually having the impact on me that Kirsten had predicted?

James looked at me, almost knowingly and smiled. “Are you Ok?” he enquired. “Should I carry on?”

I looked at his smiling face and almost melted – “Please.”

James continued to massage my calf muscle and even offered to do the other leg too. All through his massage I continued to chat with the group and sip away at my gin and tonic, whilst James continued to stroke and manipulate my leg muscles.

After some time, he asked how it felt and I confirmed that the ache had eased and it felt much better. He asked if I was up to some more dancing but I told him I felt it was best not to chance my luck tonight and that I really felt like retiring to my hotel room.

“Where are you booked into?” He enquired.

“The Halkin in Belgravia,” I replied.

“Oh I know it, close to Hyde Park and Harrods?” Said James.

“Yes, that’s it. It’s where Steve and I always stay when we are in the city, we love it.”

“Very nice too Kate, elegant and classy for an elegant and classy lady,” he said without a trace of innuendo. How nice.

I thanked him for his comment and stood to begin leaving.

“Let me share a walk over there with you?” he offered. "My flat is not that very far from there in any case and I can go right past the hotel en route.”

“That would be lovely, James, I was going to take a taxi but I will enjoy the walk, it’s not too far.”

We said our goodbyes and as I pecked Kirsten on the cheek, she whispered in my ear, “Remember Katie, you do look good together.” She flashed me a wicked smile and kissed my cheek. Before I could reply she was off.

James and I left the club and began walking in the warm London evening air. James asked about my work, where we lived, our family and by the time we had walked the first half mile he knew a great deal about me. I felt it to be my turn to quiz him.

“So you are a physiotherapist who lives in London, what else should I know about you, since you are escorting me safely to my hotel?” I asked him.

“Well, I come from Brighton, have been in the city for about ten months now and I’m a freelance physio. I play rugby, swim and love to dance.” A vision flashed into my mind.

“That would explain you being in such great shape,” I had blurted out before I even knew what I was saying.

James turned and looked at me. “Thanks Kate” again with no hint that he had taken it any other way than a passing comment. He seemed so innocent and unaware of his magnetism.

“You obviously keep fit yourself,” he replied. "Your strong calf muscles are an indication of many hours hard work if I’m not mistaken?”

“I hate the effort in the gym but the rewards are not turning into a couch potato,” I replied. “Oh, and I ride.”

The silence was stunning. “Horses,” I rather too quickly and loudly spluttered.

James began to laugh and I couldn’t help but join in. It was so childish it was funny. It was also one of those moments between strangers that can either be the end or the beginning of a conversation.

We carried on walking to my hotel and we chatted the whole way there, sharing thoughts, experiences and details of our childhood and friends.

We reached the hotel entrance and stood to say goodbye. “Thanks for walking me back,” I told James.

“Absolutely no effort Kate, as I said, I was passing close to here in any case.”

It was just short of midnight and I was ready for turning in but for some reason I asked James if he would like a nightcap in the resident's lounge. “I thought you would be heading in to see Steve at this late hour but if you are intending having one, then I will join you but I am easy either way to be honest,” said James.

“Steve?” I asked.

“Your husband, I thought you said you and he were staying here?”

“I think I said that when we are in London together yes, we do stay here, but he is not here tonight.”

“I am sorry Kate I misunderstood. Then, yes I really would like a whisky or liqueur to end the night off. It will be lovely to spend some more time in the company of a beautiful lady,” replied James. This was the first time his compliment had seemed slightly affected but I guessed he was being his usual pleasant self.

The waiter took our orders and we sat in the comfortable and slightly secluded resident’s lounge discussing the evening and our plans for tomorrow.

I became very relaxed in the atmosphere and the liqueur was having a very enjoyable effect on me. The conversation became slightly more difficult as the time wore on as I realised I really ought to be calling a night of it but was truly enjoying the company of this very attractive, intelligent man.

“I should probably go,” said James, “And let you get your beauty sleep, not that you need much of that,” he added.

“James, that is sweet but not true. I feel my age sometimes but comments like that are a great boost to a lady's ego so thank you.” I leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. It was the first time I had ever touched a black person and I suddenly became aware again of Kirsten’s words, “you look good together.”

“No need for that,” replied James. “I was only telling the truth.”

“Thank you.”

James reached out with both arms and held my arms at my sides. “I’m not going to lie Kate, the kiss was great but I could return an awful lot more, just starting with a real kiss.”

He leant in to me and looking me straight in the eyes, almost daring me to withdraw he placed his lips on mine. At first I did nothing - apart from panic, but slowly my mouth responded to his soft probing lips and tongue. James increased the pressure on my mouth and I responded by increasing the pressure of my return kiss. I felt his tongue lick across my bottom lip and I let out a soft moan as his tongue slid very gently inside my mouth.

“Not here,” I breathed into his mouth, “I can’t, not here” I said as I withdrew from his embrace.

“No. Not here, not now, not at all James, I’m so sorry, I must go.”

The look on James’ face as I turned and walked towards the elevator was crushing and I felt so guilty for having returned his kiss and given him some hope, only to pull away. My mind was in turmoil, as I made my way through the lobby. Guilt, excitement, intrigue and fear were running through my mind, all at the same time.

I was also very suddenly aware that my panties were soaked.

I had not felt so turned on in years and was immediately ashamed that this young, handsome black stud had turned me into a highly confused, highly aroused, married woman. God, he was gorgeous. I knew then he would fuck me.

I knew right then that I would not only let him, but I admitted I was going to encourage him to fuck me. Tonight. Now.

As the elevator doors closed I held up my hand indicating 5 – the floor I was staying on. I hoped James would know what was meant by my signal. The doors closed and I pressed the button to ascend.

I realised that James would have no idea of my room number and I began to wonder how I might make this happen. Doubts also began to creep into my mind again and I began to think of hoping he would not discover my room number. As the lift reached my floor with a “bing” the doors opened and I stepped out onto the landing.

The doors to the stairwell were adjacent to the lift and I passed them on my way to my room. Just as I turned a corner I heard the doors crash open and turned to see James spill out onto the landing.



“You did mean the fifth floor and not five minutes I hope?” he enquired, between gulping in deep lungs of air.

“My god,” I thought to myself, “He ran all the way up here.”

“I hope you saved some of your energy, James,” I teased as he slowly walked towards me.

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” he smiled, realising for probably the first time that he was certain to take me to bed that night.

“Good, I have a feeling you are going to need it,” I teased further. “Room 520 – take me there.”

James swept me up in his arms and like a newly married couple he carried me to my room. I fumbled for the security card and as we reached the door and as I placed the card in the slot James whispered, “You won’t regret a minute of this, Kate, I promise you.”

“I’d better not,” I murmured back to him.


“Why don’t you mix us a couple of drinks from the mini-bar, whilst I freshen up?” I suggested to James. “Gin and tonic for me, ice and lime please!” I shouted from the bathroom.

“Why don’t I help you freshen up as I could do with a shower myself after that sprint up five flights?” He asked.

“OK I will run a soapy bath and you mix the drinks and you can help me unwind,” I told him.

So he did. We rather self-consciously undressed in separate rooms and when I entered the bathroom, James was already sitting in the soapy water, sipping his drink. He had turned the music system to a soft music station and selected the bathroom speaker outlet so that the gentle music also filled the steamy bathroom.

“Hi,” he said gently, smiling, “You look absolutely fabulous.”

I knew he was being generous but his words were comforting all the same as I felt more than a little anxious. This was entirely new to me and I was nervous, excited and slightly guilty over the whole matter however, the over-riding feeling was one of lust and it was controlling all that I now did.

“That’s very kind, James,” I replied.

He reached his hand out to me and I took it as I stepped into the large, hot, soapy bath. James was leaning against the end of the bath and he turned me to sit in front of him with my back to him. His arms reached around me and he cuddled me close. His breath was hot in my ear and his hands stroked my shoulders and arms as I settled into position between his legs and leant into his body.

It felt exquisite and I think I moaned loudly when I felt his hand on my right breast. He cupped the full weight of my 36D in his hand and gently squeezed and kneaded my flesh. His other hand did the same to my other mound, I leant back and he nuzzled me, as he held my breasts in his hands.

I opened my eyes slightly at this point and caught sight of us in the large mirror at the other end of the bath. My loins lurched as I saw myself with my large, pale breasts cupped in his large black hands, my extended nipples clearly poking between his fingers, as he expertly kneaded the milky flesh.

His right hand inched down and over my tummy and he slid it onto my thigh. His caress was exciting and I felt my legs part slightly as his hand stroked the inside of my right thigh, close to my mound. He spread his hand and slid it across my lower tummy and I could feel his hand brushing the top of my pubic hair. I was not fully shaved and left the upper hair in place but below it my lips and whole pubic and anal areas were silky smooth.

His middle finger traced down the outside of my outer labia and sent shock waves crashing through me. “So smooth,” he whispered in my ear. “Just how I like it.”

He added a second finger to the other side of my slick pussy and traced both fingers up and down my shaven lips. As he did this, he nuzzled my neck and ear and the combination was driving me crazy. My legs and hips gave an involuntary lift and I felt myself open, ready for his touch. His middle finger dipped to my pussy and he slid inside me with no effort at all. I felt his long thick finger journey deeper inside me and he began to gently move in a circular motion inside me.

“You like?” He whispered into my ear.

“God, yes, James,” I panted back, as I felt him insert a second finger into my now, sopping pussy.

His left hand then slid around me and I felt him stroke my burning clitoris as he plugged me with his thick fingers and strummed my clit in perfect tandem. I was almost coming at that point and he must have sensed that I could peak too early, as he eased off slightly and gently stroked my outer lips again.

James shifted behind me and all at once I could feel a dull prodding in the small of my back and James began rubbing slowly over and around my bum cheeks and back.

He took hold of my right wrist and pulled my hand around behind me and down into the soapy water where his cock was nestling against my cheeks.

I felt the soft, smooth flesh of his cock but it felt squashed up against me and I couldn’t get a proper feel of him. I stood up and told him to do the same.

As he rose out of the water, his black body glistened, with the water running over his fabulously toned torso and stomach. James continued rising and as his groin slowly emerged from the suds, I got to see the object of my desires for the first time.

Hanging between his completely hairless groin was a cock of such length, thickness and beauty that I gasped. The gleaming black snake hanging down between his thighs was incredible. He must have been nearly a foot long and its girth was as wide as my lower arm.

“Oh James, oh dear God James,” was all I could emit as I reached out my trembling hand to encircle his incredible manhood.

I was immediately struck by the weight of James’ enormous cock. I had to use effort to lift it from its hanging position and the feel of it my hand was indescribable. Silky, hot, thick, obscene, soft, ridged, were just some of the sensations that rushed through my head immediately I took him in my hand. My Left hand. My left hand where my gold wedding ring now glistened against the backdrop of this stranger’s massive cock. Massive black cock.

Kirsten had been right all along and her words reverberated around my head – “deep down all of us white women crave and desire the invasion of our bodies by a powerful, silky, shiny black male and that darling, is a fact.”

I was about to worship this incredible specimen, presented to me in an opportunity I might never have again. I stroked the long, thick black tube as I gazed into James’ eyes. He just smiled down at me – he knew – I was his for the complete taking. If I could take him.

All thoughts of my darling husband Steve flew out of my head, as I felt James begin to harden in my hand. I stroked the thick foreskin back and forth over his ridged cockhead and marveled at the size of this man.

Never in my wildest imaginations had I ever considered such a massive cock would be a turn on. How wrong I was when presented with the reality. There truly is something different about the feel of something so large in your hand compared with the average sized cock. I had turned into something of a size queen immediately on having access to a big one – and I haven’t even had it inside me yet. I just knew this was going to ruin me forever – and I couldn’t wait to have James stretch my soaking pussy around his big, big cock.

More to follow…

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Full copyrights are retained by the author. No alteration or part or whole reproduction may be made without prior permission of the author. 2018

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