It all started my last year of college. I was dating the boy of my dreams Tommy Richards. Tommy was all-state quarterback for the football team and we were very close to becoming engaged.
I had been on the cheerleading squad but had to quit because frankly, Tommy and I needed money to continue living together off campus.
One day while checking the posts in the Student Union building, I noticed one looking for an accounting student to intern at a local CPA's office.
?Fantastic!? I thought, this may be exactly the break Tommy and I needed. Now I could get a part time job and we could afford the rent, which we were now actually a month behind on.
When I showed up the following day at the office I was surprised to find that the owner was a rather short, paunchy black man...maybe 50 years old. This wouldn't have been a problem at all except for the way he looked at me. As soon as he came out of his office to greet me, he nearly stopped in his tracks and looked me over. I found it kind of gross.
Regardless of his impropriety, I was determined to get the job?for the sake of my staying with Tommy.
Mr. Joseph took me into his office and pulled his chair out from behind his desk, positioning it right in front of me. He began talking in this phony Barry White type of voice. I thought: amazing...this old black man thinks he is going to seduce me!
Mr. Joseph?he insisted I call him ?Ward??continued to prattle on about the office and how sure he was that I'd be an excellent ?fit.? It was crude the way he accented the word ?fit? when he said it, but I pretended not to pick up on the lewd message he was delivering.
As our conversation drew on though, I had to admit, I was impressed with his persistence and confident manner. Most boys on campus seemed to get tongue-tied around me. This was definitely not the case with this slight, portly black man. He seemed convinced he could seduce me...and I was both taken slightly back and impressed by it.
As Ward continued to speak to me, as corny as it was, I did start to get slightly taken in by the Barry White routine. He was good at it. I found myself liking the sound of it...somehow it made me feel...ummm...sexy, I guess.
The next thing I knew, Wards black fingers were stroking my leg. I had worn a very short skirt to the interview; I'll admit it was to impress my interviewer. I now realized that unfortunately, it was having even more than its desired effect. I wished I had worn a pants suit. But now my own lack of business judgment was working against me. I had come to the interview showing myself off, and now this old, middle aged, very black man wanted me to show more?a lot more!
I was about to ask him to please stop what he was doing, but I was honestly afraid it would ruin my chance of getting this job, which Tommy and I needed badly. Several times just as I was about to say something he'd remove his hand, then as the conversation would go on for a while, the fingers would start gliding along my thigh again.
I'm ashamed to say, this old man was arousing me a little. I had never been with a man so self-assured and so aggressive, but subtly so.
Finally, he concluded and offered me the job. A smile played across his thick lips. I'm sure he was feeling very self-satisfied that he was able to play with my legs during the interview without my objecting. He probably read it as my consent to his advances. I didn't mean it that way at all.
When I left I was angry I hadn't told him to stop, and wondered why I didn't. I convinced myself that it was the money?I needed the money?and, after all, it was for Tommy.
I got home and undressed. I was stunned to find my panty hose was damp in the crotch. To be honest, it was very damp. I stared at it for long moments. I held it up and sniffed it. It was my woman's scent. But...it couldn't be...that strange, little black man couldn't...couldn't ever..have made me...wet?
I got into the shower and as I lathered myself, I felt my body responding tremendously to my touch. My nipples were very hard. I squeezed my breasts and it felt so good. I squeezed them again, much harder and cruder this time. I was becoming very hot and very horny. It had been a long time since I'd felt like this. I loved Tommy, but the sex wasn't really a part of it. He wasn't very accomplished. I began playing with my clit. I whispered to myself, ?Oh, Tommy.?
I strained in my mind to visualize the man I loved as I leaned along the tiled wall of the shower. My fingers were working furiously at the stiffening bud that was about to provide the strongest release I'd had in months. Then it came, almost with a flash of light. I shivered and moaned. I sank to the flooring of the tub as I continued shivering and quaking with the powerful orgasm. Finally as it subsided my lips whispered something...and it echoed back at me within the confines of the shower.
It was a name...
?Oooooo...Ward.?
I sat in stunned silence, my thighs splayed apart as wide as the tub walls would allow. I couldn't imagine what was happening to me.
That night I lay in bed listening to Tommy snoring. But I was distracted wondering what I'd wear tomorrow. Should I wear the extra short black skirt, along with my white hose and white shoes with the spiked 4-inch heels?
Suddenly I caught myself.
Why was I thinking about this? What did it matter what I wore? I felt very confused.
The next day?after going back and forth several times?even after putting on my pants suit, I returned again to the short skirt. I took off the pants suit, and almost as if in a strange trance, found myself dressing in the white hose, extra short black mini, and 4-inch heels.
I looked in the mirror...I looked like a sex kitten. Why was I doing this, I wondered?
When I showed up at work Ward was obviously pleased. As short as the dress was that I wore to the interview, the skirt I wore for my first day under his charge was even shorter.
My heart was pounding in my chest. I felt I should know better. What was this over-confident man going to think? Of course, he would assume I was dressing for him. He would think I wore this extra short skirt so he could have a better view of me.
?Was I...?? I wondered.
?Heidi, join me for lunch today,? Mr. Joseph asked me, in a way that was more a command than request.
?Uhhh...well, ok, Mr.Joseph,? I responded, not knowing how I could decline without creating a scene.
Then he leaned over and said softly, ?What do you like to eat, sweetheart??
He knew that statement could be read two ways...and he knew that I knew it too. I played dumb to try to ignore the second possible implication:
?I like just about anything,? I replied, and then cursed myself for having answered so stupidly. My reply could be taken two ways, also. Ward smiled as if he had read my statement in the double entendre he was trying to use with me.
?We'll see,? he smiled, lewdly. ?We'll see...?
Ward drove me to a very expensive restaurant in his Lexus. He was obviously well off. Surprisingly for this day and age, the sight of an older, black man with a very young, blonde girl still turned heads.
When we exited the car, Ward was the kind of gentleman that has gone somewhat out of style. He opened the door for me and took my hand as I exited. Unfortunately, as we entered the restaurant I felt his hand on the small of my back. I was surprised to find him so bold as to be insinuating his arm behind me, as if I were his date or something.
It annoyed me, but I wasn't sure how I could stop it without creating an uncomfortable situation with my new boss.
We were escorted to a private table in the back and had a wonderful meal. Ward insisted I have wine before, during, and after the meal. I had ******* nearly 3 of the small glasses. I am not much of a drinker, so I was left feeling a little buzzed.
On the way back to the office, Ward could tell I was slightly tipsy. As he spoke to me he began to touch my knee, soon his hand was placed firmly on it and began to stray upward along my thigh.
I wanted to say, enough. But I was feeling weak and tired from the glasses of wine. Soon, Ward's hand was confidently stroking my thigh as we drove. The damn skirt I wore was sliding easily upward to my hips. Finally, I placed my hand meekly around Ward's wrist, as a way of implying I wanted him to stop. But he ignored my signal. His hand continued to stroke my thigh even more boldly, even as my hand enfolded his wrist. Indeed, it now would have appeared to an onlooker as if I were guiding his hand under my skirt and between my thighs.
We drove a few miles and I found myself looking down, stunned to see this old, paunchy black man's black hand situated between my legs. My thighs were now spread widely apart. To any onlooker I would have looked like a young, blonde whore with her hand guiding an older black man's up under her skirt and between her wide open, inviting thighs.
Ward was manipulating my clitty through the thin nylons I had on.
?MMmmmm...? I heard him moan lewdly as he felt my wetness spreading over the strained nylons.
?You like that, don't you, Heidi??
I could only moan in response. I was very horny and felt very weak under the vile ministrations of this confident black man.
He pulled the car into our work site's parking lot. He parked in a secluded, reserved spot for his Lexus. Then I felt him grab the back of my neck, and gently, but firmly, begin to push my head down toward his crotch.
I heard him fumble with his zipper, then heard it unzip loudly. As he pushed my head down I could only offer feeble resistance. I felt so weak under the demands of this surprisingly confident, powerful man.
In the back of my mind, I thought of the previous day when I thought his come-on so ridiculous. Now here I was, my pussy hot and wet, with my head being ****** down toward his unsheathed cock.
I opened my eyes to find his very fat, very black dick positioned inches from my mouth. He continued to confidently ******* my head down until my lips were firmly planted on the warm, wet head of the thick, black cudgel.
I felt like crying, but remembered that I was doing it for Tommy. It's for Tommy I insisted to myself. Then my lips relented, and I took the warm, thick dick into my mouth.
?That's ?a? girl,? I heard Ward Joseph snort.
?Lunch ain't over yet, girl,? he chuckled to me.
I had been on the cheerleading squad but had to quit because frankly, Tommy and I needed money to continue living together off campus.
One day while checking the posts in the Student Union building, I noticed one looking for an accounting student to intern at a local CPA's office.
?Fantastic!? I thought, this may be exactly the break Tommy and I needed. Now I could get a part time job and we could afford the rent, which we were now actually a month behind on.
When I showed up the following day at the office I was surprised to find that the owner was a rather short, paunchy black man...maybe 50 years old. This wouldn't have been a problem at all except for the way he looked at me. As soon as he came out of his office to greet me, he nearly stopped in his tracks and looked me over. I found it kind of gross.
Regardless of his impropriety, I was determined to get the job?for the sake of my staying with Tommy.
Mr. Joseph took me into his office and pulled his chair out from behind his desk, positioning it right in front of me. He began talking in this phony Barry White type of voice. I thought: amazing...this old black man thinks he is going to seduce me!
Mr. Joseph?he insisted I call him ?Ward??continued to prattle on about the office and how sure he was that I'd be an excellent ?fit.? It was crude the way he accented the word ?fit? when he said it, but I pretended not to pick up on the lewd message he was delivering.
As our conversation drew on though, I had to admit, I was impressed with his persistence and confident manner. Most boys on campus seemed to get tongue-tied around me. This was definitely not the case with this slight, portly black man. He seemed convinced he could seduce me...and I was both taken slightly back and impressed by it.
As Ward continued to speak to me, as corny as it was, I did start to get slightly taken in by the Barry White routine. He was good at it. I found myself liking the sound of it...somehow it made me feel...ummm...sexy, I guess.
The next thing I knew, Wards black fingers were stroking my leg. I had worn a very short skirt to the interview; I'll admit it was to impress my interviewer. I now realized that unfortunately, it was having even more than its desired effect. I wished I had worn a pants suit. But now my own lack of business judgment was working against me. I had come to the interview showing myself off, and now this old, middle aged, very black man wanted me to show more?a lot more!
I was about to ask him to please stop what he was doing, but I was honestly afraid it would ruin my chance of getting this job, which Tommy and I needed badly. Several times just as I was about to say something he'd remove his hand, then as the conversation would go on for a while, the fingers would start gliding along my thigh again.
I'm ashamed to say, this old man was arousing me a little. I had never been with a man so self-assured and so aggressive, but subtly so.
Finally, he concluded and offered me the job. A smile played across his thick lips. I'm sure he was feeling very self-satisfied that he was able to play with my legs during the interview without my objecting. He probably read it as my consent to his advances. I didn't mean it that way at all.
When I left I was angry I hadn't told him to stop, and wondered why I didn't. I convinced myself that it was the money?I needed the money?and, after all, it was for Tommy.
I got home and undressed. I was stunned to find my panty hose was damp in the crotch. To be honest, it was very damp. I stared at it for long moments. I held it up and sniffed it. It was my woman's scent. But...it couldn't be...that strange, little black man couldn't...couldn't ever..have made me...wet?
I got into the shower and as I lathered myself, I felt my body responding tremendously to my touch. My nipples were very hard. I squeezed my breasts and it felt so good. I squeezed them again, much harder and cruder this time. I was becoming very hot and very horny. It had been a long time since I'd felt like this. I loved Tommy, but the sex wasn't really a part of it. He wasn't very accomplished. I began playing with my clit. I whispered to myself, ?Oh, Tommy.?
I strained in my mind to visualize the man I loved as I leaned along the tiled wall of the shower. My fingers were working furiously at the stiffening bud that was about to provide the strongest release I'd had in months. Then it came, almost with a flash of light. I shivered and moaned. I sank to the flooring of the tub as I continued shivering and quaking with the powerful orgasm. Finally as it subsided my lips whispered something...and it echoed back at me within the confines of the shower.
It was a name...
?Oooooo...Ward.?
I sat in stunned silence, my thighs splayed apart as wide as the tub walls would allow. I couldn't imagine what was happening to me.
That night I lay in bed listening to Tommy snoring. But I was distracted wondering what I'd wear tomorrow. Should I wear the extra short black skirt, along with my white hose and white shoes with the spiked 4-inch heels?
Suddenly I caught myself.
Why was I thinking about this? What did it matter what I wore? I felt very confused.
The next day?after going back and forth several times?even after putting on my pants suit, I returned again to the short skirt. I took off the pants suit, and almost as if in a strange trance, found myself dressing in the white hose, extra short black mini, and 4-inch heels.
I looked in the mirror...I looked like a sex kitten. Why was I doing this, I wondered?
When I showed up at work Ward was obviously pleased. As short as the dress was that I wore to the interview, the skirt I wore for my first day under his charge was even shorter.
My heart was pounding in my chest. I felt I should know better. What was this over-confident man going to think? Of course, he would assume I was dressing for him. He would think I wore this extra short skirt so he could have a better view of me.
?Was I...?? I wondered.
?Heidi, join me for lunch today,? Mr. Joseph asked me, in a way that was more a command than request.
?Uhhh...well, ok, Mr.Joseph,? I responded, not knowing how I could decline without creating a scene.
Then he leaned over and said softly, ?What do you like to eat, sweetheart??
He knew that statement could be read two ways...and he knew that I knew it too. I played dumb to try to ignore the second possible implication:
?I like just about anything,? I replied, and then cursed myself for having answered so stupidly. My reply could be taken two ways, also. Ward smiled as if he had read my statement in the double entendre he was trying to use with me.
?We'll see,? he smiled, lewdly. ?We'll see...?
Ward drove me to a very expensive restaurant in his Lexus. He was obviously well off. Surprisingly for this day and age, the sight of an older, black man with a very young, blonde girl still turned heads.
When we exited the car, Ward was the kind of gentleman that has gone somewhat out of style. He opened the door for me and took my hand as I exited. Unfortunately, as we entered the restaurant I felt his hand on the small of my back. I was surprised to find him so bold as to be insinuating his arm behind me, as if I were his date or something.
It annoyed me, but I wasn't sure how I could stop it without creating an uncomfortable situation with my new boss.
We were escorted to a private table in the back and had a wonderful meal. Ward insisted I have wine before, during, and after the meal. I had ******* nearly 3 of the small glasses. I am not much of a drinker, so I was left feeling a little buzzed.
On the way back to the office, Ward could tell I was slightly tipsy. As he spoke to me he began to touch my knee, soon his hand was placed firmly on it and began to stray upward along my thigh.
I wanted to say, enough. But I was feeling weak and tired from the glasses of wine. Soon, Ward's hand was confidently stroking my thigh as we drove. The damn skirt I wore was sliding easily upward to my hips. Finally, I placed my hand meekly around Ward's wrist, as a way of implying I wanted him to stop. But he ignored my signal. His hand continued to stroke my thigh even more boldly, even as my hand enfolded his wrist. Indeed, it now would have appeared to an onlooker as if I were guiding his hand under my skirt and between my thighs.
We drove a few miles and I found myself looking down, stunned to see this old, paunchy black man's black hand situated between my legs. My thighs were now spread widely apart. To any onlooker I would have looked like a young, blonde whore with her hand guiding an older black man's up under her skirt and between her wide open, inviting thighs.
Ward was manipulating my clitty through the thin nylons I had on.
?MMmmmm...? I heard him moan lewdly as he felt my wetness spreading over the strained nylons.
?You like that, don't you, Heidi??
I could only moan in response. I was very horny and felt very weak under the vile ministrations of this confident black man.
He pulled the car into our work site's parking lot. He parked in a secluded, reserved spot for his Lexus. Then I felt him grab the back of my neck, and gently, but firmly, begin to push my head down toward his crotch.
I heard him fumble with his zipper, then heard it unzip loudly. As he pushed my head down I could only offer feeble resistance. I felt so weak under the demands of this surprisingly confident, powerful man.
In the back of my mind, I thought of the previous day when I thought his come-on so ridiculous. Now here I was, my pussy hot and wet, with my head being ****** down toward his unsheathed cock.
I opened my eyes to find his very fat, very black dick positioned inches from my mouth. He continued to confidently ******* my head down until my lips were firmly planted on the warm, wet head of the thick, black cudgel.
I felt like crying, but remembered that I was doing it for Tommy. It's for Tommy I insisted to myself. Then my lips relented, and I took the warm, thick dick into my mouth.
?That's ?a? girl,? I heard Ward Joseph snort.
?Lunch ain't over yet, girl,? he chuckled to me.