1. What the Hell Am I Doing? - Chapter 1


    Date: 11/13/2014, Categories: Hardcore, Interracial Sex, Taboo, Author: satinlvr_mwf, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    -------------------------------------------------------------------- Author’s Note: This is the beginning of a new series of stories, all of them holding at least a kernel of truth, if not more. Not all will have full-on sexual contact and/or encounters, at least as I have it planned, but I hope the reader will enjoy the feelings, and emotions, that went through my mind. That being said, there is going to be a lot of interracial sexual relations, sex with strangers, and even some v******e. Call it adultery, call it slavery, or call it submission, whatever label you choose, but unless you have a CONSTRUCTIVE comment, I’m not interested in hearing your blithering, whiney fingers scream about how I should be divorced, shot, made homeless, or abandoned. We all have enough troubles in our days without listening to your opinions on how someone should live their lives. With that said, if you are still here, please enjoy the first installment: ------------------------------------------------------------------ “What the hell am I doing?” It was a question I seemed to be asking myself more and more lately. I had pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, one of my regular stops in my assigned territory. My job made me travel about three weeks a month, sometimes less, but all of it was ‘local’ travel. I was a road warrior. And I am a woman. I am a woman in a man’s industry, and what made matters worse was that I am what men would call a solid 8+, in their subjective rating scale, ...
    sometimes even a 9, if I wore the right outfit, and my hair was just so. My appearance made it difficult for men to take me seriously in a business-sense, and more than once I only achieved my business objectives by letting my counterpart get a flash of cleavage, as opposed to sound business decisions. At first I was incensed, but I got used to it, even to the point of derision. In some ways, I hated my job, and all the travel, and I was so unhappy having to be away from home. My figure had earned me many suitors when I was in college, some of whom had succeeded in making me their conquest, until my one came along, and I married him. He worked, I worked, but perversely, I did all the travelling, and he was the homebody. Which brought me to the evening, and my being seated in my company car, the key in my hand in my lap, and my soft voice whispered. “What the hell am I doing?” The first time I asked myself that was the first time I met Him. The man who dominated me. I am a mere five foot four inches, and he was well over six feet, and had over a hundred pounds on me, easily. I think that the only two categories I could beat him at was hair length and boob size. I’m a D-cup, and even though he was very fit, and tremendously strong, he suffered from some man-boobs. My brown hair was past my shoulders, and his was missing. He shaved his head regularly, but then many black men did. With dark brown eyes, and skin so dark I missed him at first when we met at a hotel bar (where else?), it ...
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