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

    at him. There was communication in the silence. So many things were unsaid, unarticulated. None of that seemed to matter. Finally, he said, “So, what now?” “Well, that would depend on what you want.” Shauntay was a bit more aloof than Bret would have liked. He wanted her to show interest in him, he wanted her to see him as different, to WANT to dominate him. She stood up, dropped her backpack in his lap, and leaned in close, her lips close to his, like she was about to kiss him. “I’ll see you later.” With that, she walked away, Bret’s eyes transfixed to her ass as she disappeared into the sunshine, gripping her bag like it sustained his life. That day after work, Bret took out his phone, called Amanda saying that he had to go out of town for the weekend for work, which was not at all unusual for him, and he drove to Shauntay’s apartment, backpack in tow. He stood outside her building, terrified to go up but driven to cross the threshold into a new adventure. He knocked, nervous and afraid. “One moment, please.” He heard her movements behind the closed door. Bret waited what seemed like an eternity. Finally she opened the door completely and stood before him and he literally gasped for air. Shauntay was dressed, or barely dressed rather, in a bright turquoise lace bra that was doing a lousy job of containing her overflowing breast flesh. Her matching garter belt sat atop her hips and the colorful straps went down her slender ebony legs and held her black, silk, lace-topped ...
    stockings in place. Her small feet were encased in high-heeled black, patent leather pumps, tasteful and sexy. The most striking feature of her outfit was the chocolate brown strapon protruding from her body. At first glance, it appeared to be about 8 inches long and at least as wide as his wrist. She stood there calmly, stroking it, taunting Bret. He glanced nervously up and down the hallway, terrified that someone would see her, terrified that someone would see him standing there, practically salivating. “Welcome,” she said, “I’ve been expecting you.” Bret wanted to say something to let her know that she wasn’t the one pulling the strings, that he was still in control of his actions, that he understood the dynamics of what was happening, no words would come out. Her comfort level with being so open, standing where anyone who opened their door or came up the steps could see them, threw off his equilibrium. He wasn’t in control; she was controlling the game. He was a pawn and she a dynamic Black Queen Bitch. He wanted to appear aloof but if she had commanded that he drop to his knees right there in the hallway and suck that dick, he would have done it without hesitation. “Come in.” Bret stepped forward but she didn’t move to the side. He had to squeeze past her; his body brushing up against hers, the strapon wedged tightly between their bodies as he made his way inside. The room was lit with candles around the perimeter and the furniture had been moved out of the center, ...
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