1. The White Guy


    Date: 9/3/2015, Categories: Interracial Sex, Mature, Taboo, Author: KateandJessica, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    The last white man I fucked was my husband. It was some time in 2012 and things were already strained with us. It was after that night that I told my lover and owner, Clarence, that I didn't want to sl**p with white men any longer. It felt weird. Not bad, not good. Just weird. Scroll forward three years. I live with Clarence. I've slept with a lot of black men in between. Occasionally, a couple of times a year, he whores me out. Usually through his friend Rolly, who's an actual pimp. This time though, things went a little differently. Clarence gave me the address himself and said, “One more thing. This guy is white.” It started a fight between us. We don't fight often and I'm not going to go into the details here. The point is, Clarence won. In the end, we both agreed that his rules, his desires were more important that my preferences. The other thing that was different was that this guy didn't want me to dress up in a way that I usually dressed when meeting a guy for sex. He didn't want high heels or skirts. Instead, he wanted me to dress like a “soccer mom” as Clarence described it. Normal jeans, kitten heels, a fairly conservative top, minimal makeup. And a wedding ring. Clarence told the guy I wasn't married but “Thomas” asked Clarence if I could wear a wedding ring and pretend I was a cheating wife. It was strange slipping David's ring back on my finger. Clarence let me know that this guy was a client of a client from his real day job, so no one that Clarence was ...
    working with directly, but still someone that moved in his circles. Clarence had met the guy once while working, but this Thomas fellow didn't know that it was Clarence that was doing the pimping. Their mutual friend had just given the guy Clarence's phone number and said, “Talk to this guy, he'll hook you up.” Clarence told me that as far as this guy knew, I was just a normal prostitute. Because we didn't know the guy well, Clarence drove me to his hotel room out near the airport and then told me he'd be waiting in the restaurant across the street. This guy had one hour with me and then we'd either have to make arrangements with Clarence for more time, or I was gone. I did a couple of vodka shots just before we left because I was nervous as all hell. When Thomas answered the door, I was surprised. I expected some middle-aged, paunchy, pale guy. Instead, I had to admit, he was handsome. He must have been in his early 30s with dark hair. He had on fitted jeans and a t-shirt with a band logo I didn't recognize. There were a long series of tribal tattoos down one arm. He opened the door casually and said, “Come on in,” with an alarmingly normal smile. I don't know why, but it wasn't until that moment that my brain finally fired and I thought, “Why did Clarence want me to sl**p with this guy in particular? What was it about him that made Clarence make an exception?” His room was neat and clean, almost like it wasn't lived in. He offered me a bottle of mini-booze from the fridge and I ...
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