The Sweet Wife
The Sweet Wife
The morning after she'd serviced seven of Travis's friends, before putting her in a cab, Travis handed Maureen a small box. She was surprised to see the cab was not Robert. Travis told her to go home and sleep all day. He would phone her at six. She wasn't to open the box until he phoned.
Maureen was so exhausted she simply nodded. The men had done everything she'd imagined they might and more. Each of her orifices had been taken over and over. She had swallowed their cum and taken it in her pussy and in her anus. She had danced naked for them, crawled to them on all fours, kneeled for what seemed like hours before them as one after another had fucked her mouth. She had tongue kissed them. She had bent down to press her parted lips to their feet. They had, as she knew they would, verbally humiliated and physically abused her.
Each of the seven men had taken her twice and two of them had taken her three times. She'd lost count of the numbers of orgasms she'd had. It seemed they were constant, one blending into the other. The intensity was greater than she had ever known. Over and over each orgasm rose toward another explosive climax that shook her body. She could not have dreamed of the undiminished lust she felt. It had begun in the dining room of the restaurant and grew in intensity when Travis led her, blindfolded, into the room where the seven black men were waiting for her.
Now, as she stepped into the cab, the flow of secretions moistened her pussy again. Her anal opening was painful. Even though she'd widened it for Travis, his huge thick cock had torn her. But she'd been surprised at how much pleasure had accompanied the pain. The sensation of a hard cock pushing far into that most private of places brought her to a state of arousal that was different from any she'd ever known. Toward the end of the long night she was begging them to take her there. She remembered herself saying, "Please, please fuck my ass. I want to feel your black cocks in my white ass!" My God, she thought, how could I have said that? How could I have done those things?
Neither Brian nor the children were at home. He'd gone to work and they were in school. Brian had left a note saying his sister would pick up Sara and Billy from school, and he would bring them home at six thirty. Maureen undressed, showered, and fell into bed. The ringing of the phone awoke her at six. Still half asleep, she had to force herself to reach across the bed to answer it.
"You did good last night, babe," Travis said.
His compliment and the sound of his voice brought her fully awake. She felt a rush of warmth spread across her skin. "Thank you, honey. Thank you for last night. It was beyond anything I have felt before."
"I was but everything seems okay now."
"You forgettin, baby, you belong to me. You is Travis's white whore."
"But....but I thought after last night...."
"Ain't nobody payin you to think. You got to get out of the fuckin habit of thinkin."
Maureen's stomach sank and her mouth went dry. "You mean tonight I must..."
He interrupted, "Yeah, tonight. Now, open the box I give you." It was on the dresser. Maureen lifted the lid. Inside were a silver necklace and a matching ankle bracelet. On the necklace was a shiny black pendant in the form of four letters. The same letters circled half of the ankle bracelet. "You got it?" Travis asked.
"What do the letters say?"
"What you think they mean?"
"Honestly, Travis, I don't know."
"Well, just about every black man in the country knows and most black women, too. Lot's of whites know."
Maureen tried to guess but gave up. "I'm sorry, Travis, but..."
"I'll tell you. They mean WHITE WOMAN FOR BLACKS. When you wear that necklace and ankle bracelet the black man knows you is his. He