Black History Pt. 01

I didn't start out being fixated on, or even especially attracted to, black men. Events, and my experiences with both black and white men, combined to steer me into my personal black history. I think knowing a little of my background will help you understand my story.

As my story begins I'm a 33 year old product of a small southern town. It's an old neighborhood of small houses. I'm pale, about 5'9", with long legs and large breasts, I'm well read, intelligent, and a very good Mom. My ancestors not so long ago owned slaves but I never learned prejudice. I had minimal opportunity to interact with black people so I didn't know much about them. The exceptions being casual conversations with families I would see at the park, shopping, etc.

I admit that I am a submissive woman. My family upbringing was in a loving environment where the males were overtly dominant and the females served them gladly. As I went through puberty I enjoyed reading novels in which strong men dominated women sexually and I found myself excited by imagining myself in the roles of the women in those novels.

I married young to the first guy I had any kind of real sexual relationship with and it turned out badly. The best thing that came from it were two wonderful children. Otherwise my husband turned out to be mean, small-minded, insecure, constantly belittling me, and totally out of touch with what I had to offer. If he had treated me well I would have served him as well as a wife can, despite his inclination to spend his earnings on what he felt would make him look much more successful than he was, and his smaller than average dick.

Eventually I had enough and divorced him. While my life instantly became less stressful on a personal level it did put me and the kids in a real financial bind. My ex then fell sick and died, which cut what little help he had given us. We would not have survived had it not been for some support from my parents who live in a town about 30 miles away. The kids were not in school yet so my parents would usually take them for 4 or 5 days a week so I could work from home enough to make at least a little money.

I had no social life other than visits with my parents and the occasional chat with neighbors. I am an only child so no brothers or sisters either. Here is the beginning of my black history.

Tuesday morning is like any other morning since he left. I wake up and start thinking about those damn bills that Roger left us with. With no car and no job, I turn to my only resource - the computer. Ebay is probably a joke to many people, but hey, it's paying a few of the bills and I hope the business will grow.

I barefoot it over to the front door and unlock it. You can't be too safe, not even in this hick town. I need to bring in some ebay packages that are ready to ship just as soon as the addresses are put on them. Most mornings, I go outside in my long tee, no panties. I don't know if I'm daring, kinky, or just unaware, but today I have on my short black dress. It's cotton and comfortable, and besides, I like the way it shows off my legs.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a car slowing down. I usually check out strange cars in the neighborhood, but right now I really need to finish my work. I carry the few boxes back to the kitchen table and set about my task at hand when I hear an unfamiliar voice.

"Mrs. Dimon, that you?"

I quickly walk back into the living room and I'm a bit surprised to see a large dark face peering in.

"Yes, may I help you?" He doesn't answer at first but then he flashes his ID at me.

"Fred Lewis, Columbia Gas," he says. I feel my body tense up at these words. I can tell this is not one of the guys that read the meters every month. This is a man of authority - and I get the feeling my ass is in trouble.

"I'm here to talk to you about you being in arrears on your gas bills. I'm going to have your service turned off if we can't come to a satisfactory agreement. Now, may I come in?

"Yes, of course," I stammer. What else can I say? I want to shut the door on this huge presence, then run and hide somewhere. But that won't make bad things go away. "Please have a seat," I say gesturing toward the sofa. "Can I get you some iced tea?" Why did I ask that? He's here to make my life miserable, and I'm offering iced tea. Well, I do have a fresh pitcher on the counter and I was raised to be hospitable.

"Iced tea would do fine, Mrs. Dimon. As long as you're getting the tea it might be better if we sat at the kitchen table. Do you agree?"

"Oh, uh, that would be fine, Mr.?"

"Lewis."

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry."

I move around the kitchen like I'm out of my territory. It takes me a moment to find Mr. Lewis a glass. I don't know if the threat of disconnection is having an affect on me or if it's this intimidating man. I mean, yeah, he's been polite but there's something about him that makes my skin tingle.

I hand him the glass and become aware of his eyes moving up and down my body. A thought flickers through my mind. No, not a thought, really, but a brief image of this black bear of a man handling me... roughly.

"Would you care to explain why you have neglected to make your payments?" He asks sternly. "You do recall signing a contract that stipulated your agreement to pay on time or risk having your service terminated, don't you? We've been lenient up to now, but this is not a one-time problem. You have a history of late payment and shut offs. I'm strongly inclined to recommend a permanent shut off at this point." My hand shakes as I place the tea on the table in front of him. "Thank you, Mrs. Dimon," he smiles briefly.

"Mr. Lewis, you can't imagine how bad I feel about being behind on my bills. It's not just gas, it's everything." I can feel the tears starting. I always cry when I'm upset and there's no way to stop them.

"Now, now, Ms. Dimon, why don't you sit down and explain your difficulties to me. Bring some iced tea for yourself." It helps for him to be kinder, though I can still hear the authority in his voice, but for some odd reason that in control tone seems to make me feel... safer.

It doesn't take long for me to tell him my story. I tell him how rotten Roger has been. The worse part is I don't have to stretch the truth. I tell this man about the money problems that have plagued us and how he ran off with another woman. But I don't tell him everything. I don't tell him how awful it was to be touched by my ex. If he only knew how many nights I had to suffer at that man's hands. And now I share a bed with dreams of a big, confident man - one who knows how to use a woman's body to drain every drop of pleasure from her until she's deliriously limp in his strong arms. I feel breathless just thinking about it.

"I'd like to look your home over thoroughly, inside and out," he says standing and towering over me.

Ohhh...kay, but why?"

"It will be at my discretion whether or not we terminate your service. I want to get a feel for the family, namely you and the children. Often I get a sense of someone's character by observing her home. Of course if you don't want me to..."

"No, no, go ahead. I'm sorry. I was only wondering." I feel very meek around this Mr. Lewis. I suddenly have no trouble imagining that I would submit to any suggestion or command he presented to me. Talk about mixed emotions!

I shyly follow Mr. Lewis around my little house, hoping he won't notice the crayon marks on the walls. He seems to be deep in thought as he stands in the middle of the bathroom. Actually, he's about as big as my bathroom. Then he makes his way back to my bedroom. I don't follow him in. I just watch from the doorway as he stands at my window - only inches from the foot of my bed. It's unnerving to have this man in my bedroom, so close to a place where I touch myself at night.

He turns and stares straight at me. I instinctively lower my eyes. Then he quickly approaches me. He invades my space only the way a very dominant male would. I continue looking downward, but this time I see the tops of his shoes, as well as my own.

"Look at me Mrs. Dimon!" His tone startles me and I immediately look up, slightly relieved to see a faint smile. "I'm guessing you have two little girls. Am I right?"

"Yes," I answer cautiously.

"If I decide that a turnoff is required just how are you going to provide for yourself and those babies? Oh, and you should know that we have a cooperative agreement with the water and power people. When they learn your gas is shut off I'm afraid they will be inclined to also terminate their services." These words are too harsh for me, and I feel the tears starting to come. What am I going to do?

"The thought of being a parent who can't provide for your little children's basic needs cannot be pleasant, Mrs. Dimon. I'm very sorry but you leave me little choice. We can't be expected to give our product away. We are not a charity after all."

This is it. This one man is here to deliver the message that my children and I will go without in a major way. And I'm so foolish that I actually entertained thoughts about this man that weren't - exactly wholesome. It's then I begin to sob in earnest. I feel like smacking myself to stop the uncontrollable weeping, but it's impossible to hold back the months of stress. It's almost a relief to be told such news. The inevitable is here. No more waiting in fear.

Then Mr. Lewis places a big hand on my shoulder and draws me to him. That one act of compassion, at least I take it for compassion, leaves me clinging desperately to him.

"There, there, Mrs. Dimon. Why don't you tell me your first name. Maybe there's a way we can work something out."

"Sniff...sniff... it's Donna, Mr. Lewis. Do you really think there's a way to keep our gas from being shut off." At this point, any glimmer of hope is like a life preserver being tossed to me.

"Well, it is my decision. The problem is that if an auditor were to look at your file and see that I made a decision to leave your services on...and I couldn't justify it on any business means, my job would be in jeopardy. I can't afford to be without no job...Donna. I might take a chance if there was something in it for me."

I'm not quite sure what he means until he lifts my face up and gazes down at me with strength and desire.

"What do you mean, Mr. Lewis?" I have to ask. I have to be sure that my suspicions are right.

"Why you are an attractive woman, Donna Dimon...and a man like me has needs...powerful needs. Don't let my white hair fool you"

"Oh..no..I'm not that kind...!" I blurt out. Even though I thought about him touching me. I'm suddenly mortified!. I just can't. I've never been that kind of woman for real - only fantasies after the kids are sleeping. Only fantasies...

"Are you sure? You better think hard about what's going to happen. Speaking of hard, Mrs. Dimon..." He takes hold of one of my hands and places it on the bulge at his crotch. I gasp and begin to tremble as I try to pull away but his grip is too strong.

A command, "It's time to get on your knees!" Oh my, God! Is this man going to rape me? I'm a helpless mother alone in her home and there's no way to fight this big brute. He can have his way with me. He can do anything he wants with me, and have me do - anything! I look up, begging with my eyes, but this man is beyond showing mercy. He's hard and lustful.

"Go on, get down there and take a look at what MISTER Lewis has for you. Be quick about it!"

I squeeze his cock as his hand lets loose of mine, and then I drop to my knees. I'm not sure why, though. Am I afraid? A little, but there's more to it. I want to go further. I need to go further.

"Unzip me and take it out," he says gruffly as I'm tracing the cock outline with my fingertip. "I'm sure you've sucked cock before, girl. Is that right Donna?

"Yessir, I've sucked cock".

Mr. Lewis chuckles, "Let's see if you can handle a man-sized dick."

I stare up at him for a moment breathing heavily, briefly recalling my intimate moments with Roger. Yeah, I know how to suck cock, but Robert's dick was like having training wheels. I'm not sure if I'm ready for a mountain bike! I brush those thoughts aside and hurry to unzip his pants. My fingers are all thumbs as I awkwardly fumble inside his shorts, trying to grab his thick meat and haul it out of there.

"Just unbuckle my damn belt and pull my pants and shorts down. Don't fuss, just hurry up and do it!" I know now why I'm on my knees and about to wrap my lips around a heavy thick cock. I'm intimidated and aroused by this man's attitude - and I want the big black cock that's now looming before me. I glance up at Mr. Lewis several times. He looks so serious, but I see the lust that can't be hidden.

"Lick the head. Get a move on, woman! I don't have all day to stand around letting you suck my cock." I don't really need those stern words of encouragement to perform the task at hand but his dominance excites me to no end! I'm hesitant for only a second. After all, I've never sucked a cock this size - or a black one. And I've never knelt and sucked for a stranger! But I like this. I like the feeling of this man's cock on my tongue as I lick the head and shaft. I start to close my eyes but I can't stop focusing on the hard, black cock that I'm being forced to pleasure.

"OK, open them lips and suck my cock. Do a damn good job, too!" He stands there with a big smile on his face and his large hands on his hips as I move my lips and tongue obediently up and down his shaft. I feel tingling in my pussy as I do this, but when he grabs my hair and starts to jerk my head up and down so that I'm blowing him faster, well, I suddenly feel consumed with lust!

"That's good, baby! You are one natural-born cocksucker. Lick my balls for a minute, then get them clothes off and get on the bed. I want you spread for me damn quick, whore!" I should be protesting. No man has ever spoken to me this way! And... and... he actually wants me naked and vulnerable in front of him?

"This man is going to fuck me." With this one thought, I feverishly lick his heavy black balls, then I jump up and quickly strip and lay on my bed, legs spread and pussy exposed. I'm caught in a moment that seems to allow me to act like the whore he called me and that I've frequently dreamed of being.

I watch him undress and move toward me. It's then I worry about his big cock plunging inside me.

He kneels between my thighs. Looming over me he seems to read my mind. "Don't you worry, you're gonna love the way MISTER Lewis fucks you. Now you reach down and rub the head of my cock up and down on your pussy."

I do as I'm told. I stroke him between my lips and over my clit. It's like when I masturbate alone, but this time the dildo is flesh and blood and there's a huge man attached to it.

"You liken' that aren't you, girl?"

"Yyy..yesss!" I groan. I've never been so wet with desire!

"Do you want MISTER Lewis to fuck you now?"

"Oh, please...yess!"

"Ask me properly now, girl. Ask MISTER Lewis to fuck you."

"Please MISTER Lewis, please fuck me now!" I can't believe I'm acting this way, but God, I want to be fucked by this man!

"Put it in."

"Yessir" I'm now so fucking wet that the wide head slips right in. "Oh, God!" He pushes it in all the way! I keep screaming, "Oh, God!" as I wrap my legs around him. He pumps in and out with powerful thrusts, then slowly drags his big cock out of my ravished cunt, only to ram it back in deep and make me scream! I yell my head off as I cum repeatedly. Finally, after twenty minutes or so this big man cums deep inside me. I can feel him pumping a huge load into my cunt. At last, his body relaxes. It's then I pull him close and kiss him. He stays on top of me for a moment and I enjoy the weight of this man's body covering me. But too soon he rolls off and lays beside me.

"That was wonderful Mister Lewis"!

He grins wickedly. "I told you! Now clean me off, slut, with your tongue. I have to get back to work." I'm reminded again what kind of man he is and what I am for him now - and I accept it. I move to kneel between his legs and contentedly lick off every drop of us. He nods his approval and tells me that he can arrange to keep the gas on for a few more days.

"Thank you, Mister Lewis," I say gratefully, and my thanks is not just for the service reprieve. He dresses as he watches me laying wet in my bed.

After a while I get up and get my work done. Then I go back to my bed, my bed that now smells like sex. I lay there on my cum stained sheets until about 15 minutes before the kids arrive home. I lay there naked and pleased, stroking my body and craving more of Mr. Lewis.

The next morning, I take a chance and call his office. His voice makes me tremble.

"Mister Lewis, will you be by today to make me suck and fuck for you again?"

It took me 4 months to catch up on all my utility bills. During that time I let Mister Lewis know when the kids would be at their grandparents. Most often he came by and used me any way he pleased. If he was in a hurry there would only be time for me to suck him, and I was grateful even for that. A few times I would meet him at the front door and he'd give me a look that meant I should kneel right there and please him. Other times he would fuck me long and hard, eventually using almost every room in the house to demonstrate his claim on me. I became his fervent fuckslut. It was by far the best sex I'd had in my meager experience.

Though Mister Lewis remained gruff and commanding he was also discreet in protecting my reputation in my neighborhood where neighbors would not take kindly to a white woman eagerly giving herself to a black man. He understood life would be made more difficult for a young mother and her children and I was grateful for his understanding. He even advised me to tell one neighbor that I was participating in a study for Columbia Gas knowing that having one neighbor spread that rumor is lots more effective than me trying to convince all my neighbors. He always carried a clipboard when he visited so as to lend believability to the survey excuse. I felt safe in his presence. However, I learned to keep my windows closed during his visits so the neighbors wouldn't hear my begging and screams of passion.

After my bills were no longer in arrears I continued to call Mister Lewis. I could not get enough of what he gave me and what he made me do. Unfortunately, Mister Lewis retired a few months later and moved to Florida with Mrs. Lewis.