1. Queening for a Day


    Date: 10/25/2014, Categories: Fiction, Authoritarian, Black, Cock & ball torture, Discipline, Domination/submission, Female Domination, Interracial, Oral Sex, Pegging, Author: afroerotik, Rating: 66.7, Source: sexstories.com

    have been a 30 minute ride was taking forever and a day which led Bret to some dark and deviant ruminations. He began to fantasize about the strange woman in the park, about her peeling off her incredibly tight jeans and revealing a pair of red satin panties. Standing before him in nothing but those sexy panties and red, high-heeled shoes, Bret imagined that she bent over in front of him and lowered her undergarments down over the full, round asscheeks barely contained within. She wiggled and flaunted that ass in his face, teasing Bret with it. Pulling her cheeks apart, Bret dreamt that he could smell the heady aroma of her ass wafting from between those perfect, brown globes. In his fantasy, he gently placed his nose near her sacred butthole and smelled her natural scents. He was aroused and his cock was hard; he rubbed it through his pants to relieve the pressure and to add just the right amount of pleasure. Just as he was about to place his tongue to her hole in his mind, traffic started moving and he was snapped back into reality. The next day at work it was all he could do to wait for his lunch hour. He was preoccupied with thoughts of her and could barely concentrate on anything but visions of her ass. Finally, around 11 a.m., he could take no more and he made excuses about somewhere he had to go, something he had to do, and stole away to head to the park. Because it was earlier than the usual lunch hour, there were very few people in the park except some tourists, ...
    some preschool children’s groups, and some other people who were like him and escaping work and having an early, extended lunch. The chess tables were all occupied but not with the lady with whom he’d taken an interest. Today, rather than it being the homeless versus the white boys, it was simply Black man versus Black man, their residence, or lack thereof, not playing any role in their game. Never before had he taken the opportunity to watch their moves so intently, to study their game and he wondered as to how someone who could master the analytical skills of chess could end up being destitute and anti-social. He wondered how a woman who looked so out of place among those men could be comfortable around them, around their smells and clearly brash and rebellious demeanors. “Are you going to play today?” Bret froze momentarily as he felt the presence of someone next to him, dangerously close, invading his space, practically touching his arm. Without looking, he knew it was her. Her voice was soft and melodic yet raspy and erudite at the same time. “No,” he mumbled, “I have to get back to work,” and he hurriedly left the park and spent the rest of the afternoon kicking himself for not taking her up on her offer. In any other circumstance, Bret was confident, secure, he was never one to waffle or crumble under pressure. He’d wanted to meet her, to talk to her but he choked under pressure. The next day, Bret kept his anxiousness in check and waited until noon to blend in with the ...
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