White Bitch

5 (100%) 1 vote

Author: Mr. J

My name’s Kathy, and I’m 25 years old. I’m a blue-eyed blonde, 5’7, 120 lbs, 36C, 24, 33. My hair is shoulder-length, and I’ve been told many times that I should be a model. Well, I’ve posed for a lot of pictures and made a lot of movies, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. I live in South Carolina. I want to tell you the story of how I became a black-owned slut. There, I’ve said it, and it’s the truth.

I was attending junior college, trying to get an AA in business administration to further my job prospects. I had a few girlfriends, single like myself, that attended the classes with me, and that made it a lot more fun. We’d all get together and go bar-hopping, have a few drinks and a few laughs, and flirt with the guys. We all had boyfriends off and on, mostly off though. Most guys were geeks, jerks, or assholes. If I really needed sex, I’d go out alone and pick up some brainless hunk, bring him home, strap a rubber on him and ride him; then I’d shine him on.

One evening we were hanging out at a local bar, and three black men came in; big, young guys that could’ve been football players at the University. My friend Lucy nudged me,
“Check it out, Kathy,” she said. “I’ll bet those guys could give you a ride.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I replied.
“Just picture those black, muscular asses pounding between your lily-white thighs,” she said.
“Will you knock it off,” I said, “like I’m going to go out with a black man.”
“They say, ‘once you go black, you’ll never go back’ ,” Lucy retorted.
“Have you ever ‘done’ a black guy?” I asked her.
“No, but I’m sure thinking about it,” she said, licking her chops.

Now, in South Carolina, as in all of the South, there was still a certain stigma of a white woman dating a black man. The state was steeped in the history of racial prejudice was still a very real thing. Most respectable Southern girls were taught from a very early age to ‘stick with your own kind’, and a lot of WASP girls dwelled on the forbidden fantasy of having sex with a black man. I was aware that a lot of women actually acted out their fantasy, but I never knew one.

Lucy didn’t have any such qualms, apparently. She was a small, thin girl with a good body and a pixie face, short brown hair. She could’ve been a cheerleader. She picked up her drink and went over to talk to the black guys, and pretty soon she was sitting in the booth with them. We were all wondering if she’d actually do it, and in answer to our question, they all got up. Lucy gave us a little wave and left with them. We were all shocked.

After class the next day I asked her how it went.

“Come on over to the house, Kathy, I’ve got something to show you.” When we got to her house, she opened a bottle of wine, and I finally asked her,
“So?” She said that after they left the bar they went to one of the guys houses. She said they got drunk, and the next thing she knew, she was naked and they were all fondling her, and getting her all excited.

“So, did you do it?” I asked her.
“Like I could say no?” she asked. “Hell yeah, I did it. I did all three of them.” My mouth dropped open. I never knew anybody that had done more than one guy before, and now Lucy had done 3 black guys. “Come here,” she said. She sat at her computer and opened her email, and started to open a series of pictures.

“They emailed me these this morning,” she said. I was stunned; there was Lucy, on her back, her white legs wrapped around a tight, black ass. A different angle showed the man’s massive prick fully in Lucy’s spread cunt.

“Oh, my god, ” I whispered, but I could feel an excitement building in me. The next picture showed her slit gaping, a white gob of sperm running from it, as another man held a huge erection to her flowing slit.

“Oh, Lucy,” I gasped. Another picture showed her sucking on a big, black dick while the second man fucked her, and another showed her with cum all over her face.

“They used me like a whore, Kathy, and I loved every minute of it,” she smiled. “I never felt more like a woman in my life, it was fantastic.” I had to struggle to keep my hands away from my now-wet pussy. “You’ve gotta do it, Kathy,” she said, “at least once.”

I went home and masturbated on my bed, imagining the long black cocks penetrating me. I even bought a big, black dildo and used it feverishly, sweating as I frigged myself to orgasm. I squatted in front of the mirror with the huge, black plastic penis protruding from my slit, and I even shaved all the hair off my pussy so I could see it better. I tried to take it anally, but it stretched me terribly, and I couldn’t get up the nerve to force the head in that one last inch or so.

I found myself looking at black men on the street, wondering how big their cocks were. It always excited me. I went to the bar one night to maybe score on a brainless, white hunk. I had on a skirt and some thigh-highs and panties. Two black men sat at the bar, drinking. They bought me a drink and tried to make conversation, but I was self-conscious and didn’t say much. I went in the bathroom and threw water on my face. I knew I was close to doing it…real close. I even slipped my panties off and put them in my purse, my shaved pussy wet and ready.

“Ok,” I thought, “let’s do it.” I went back to the bar and sat next to them, talking animatedly, flashing a lot of thigh when I crossed my legs. They smiled at each other, smiled at me, finished their drinks and got up to leave.

“Wait,” I said, “Where you going, the night’s still young? Let me buy you guys a drink.” I could hear the slight tone of desperation in my voice. I wanted to do it, and now.
“Maybe some other time, sweetheart,” one of them said, and they left. My first reaction was anger.

“How dare them,” I thought, and then I was humiliated at the thought of practically throwing myself at them, only to be dropped like a hot potato. I sipped my drink, squeezing my thighs together, and I had to leave. I went home alone and masturbated with my black dildo. A few nights later I went to a different bar, a bar with a little rougher clientele. I left my panties at home this time, and I was naked under my dress except for the stockings.

There was a black man at the bar, and I felt my pulse quicken. This guy was scary; he was big and muscular and his head was shaved. He looked like he could break me in two with one hand. He had to be about 6’5″ and 270 or so. I sat next to him and ordered a drink. He looked at me and slowly looked me up and down.

“Hi,” I said to him.
“Hi, blondie,” he said, turning his head back to his drink.
“Kathy,” I said, “my name’s Kathy.” He ignored me. “What’s your’s?” I asked. He sat for a second, then looked at me with total disdain.

“Lester,” he said finally. I was getting a little irritated at being ignored by this man. I guess I thought that he’d be salivating at the thought of maybe scoring with a white, Southern belle. He wasn’t. I practically had to drag words out of him. He never even bought me a drink, but I bought him three or four. He finished his drink and stood up, and I stared at him, dumbfounded.
“Well,” he said, “you coming or not?”

“Coming? Coming where?” I asked, not sure how to play this turn of events. He leaned real close to me, his big, shining head just inches from my ear.

“I’m leaving, bitch,” he said in a low voice. “If you want some black cock, then get your ass up. You got 5 seconds.” I tried to smile at him, this was just going way to fast. He turned on his heel and walked out. My first reaction was to think ‘fuck you’. As the door swung closed behind him I reacted on impulse. I picked up my purse and followed him out the door. He was already getting into a big, white Cadillac, and I hurried to his car. The window went down,
“Follow me, ” he said. I stared at him.

“Get your fucking ass in gear, bitch,” he said. I hurried to my car and pulled up behind him, and he sped out of the parking lot. He raced through town, and I had to run a red light once to keep up with him. We went through a residential area a few miles from the bar and he pulled into a driveway. I parked in front of the house, and he got out of his car and went in. The door closed behind him as he went in the house. I sat there, totally confused.

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