Dark Rescue Ch. 04

About a year went by, as Shayla and I grew together. I've heard—especially from former white-girl 'Goddesses'—that the total screaming lust of the first couple of months quickly wears off and becomes routine sex. That didn't happen. We took our antiretroviral meds regularly, with no exceptions, and we both had our blood tested once a month at the diagnostic clinic.

Before I told her of my 'good news,' Shayla knew that she had a shortened life, because she was infected by her former boyfriend. So, she was determined to extract every last drop of lust from me, every damn day.

Lately, over the last few months, I'd been referred to the large medical center in Houston, where I was thoroughly poked, prodded, questioned and had lots of vials of blood drawn. I began to feel like 'Pincushion Pete':

They call him Pincushion Pete

He takes the steel to check

Out his fucked-up meat

So he goes:

Boom sticky boom,

Boom sticky boom

Boom sticky boom

He has a hottie wife,

Who says she likes it

Thrice a night,

So he goes:

Boom sticky boom,

Boom sticky boom

Boom sticky boom

Then, just this week, they delivered really good news to me and I drove back to our new home to share it with my dark black, private-slut woman, Shayla.

Just a few months ago, we'd bought house in the Woodlands, outside of Houston. So, on the way home from more testing at the hospital complex, I phoned Shayla, letting her know that I was on my way, with good news.

She just replied, "I got good news, too" with a 'purr'.

Although it was our own home, I still rang the bell, just to hear my lovely black woman call out, "Come in, stud!"

Opening the front door, I stepped into the small vestibule, and then into the foyer.

Then I looked up into a dark-skinned African-American vision. A sex goddess descended the four stair-steps leading to the entrance, and slowly glided toward me on 4-inch Lucite strappy heel slippers, tied and re-tied around her calves. I saw a white silk blouse, daringly worn in a French-Cut fashion (held together with one button, about at her navel), and a dark leather mini-skirt wrap around. Her dark breasts, capped by fantastically stiff nipples swayed from side to side, alternately exposing and revealing themselves. Her hair was up in braids again. She had open mesh fish-net stockings, ending just under the skirt.

Her mouth was open in that loose-lipped, pre-kiss droop that only girls—only very turned-on, about-to-have-sex girls—could do.

I knew, without knowing how I knew, that she was shaved glass-smooth; that she had no panties; and there was no trace of any breast support as she swayed up to me.

I was hard as a man can be, with my trousers poked out from my groin.

I got distracted, by a set of lovely dark-Nubian arms clasped round my neck, while she said, "You've been gone all day and my pussy is sooo lonely. You'd better plan on doing something about that. Then I'll tell you my good news."

Laughing, I answered, "OK, but after I pleasure the said pussy, I've got some good news for you, too."

"Later," she laughed at me, turning around so her back was against my front. She slipped the single button holding her blouse closed, then shrugged out of the material, letting it fall to and puddle on the carpeted floor. Her oh-so-short leather skirt followed. My now nude woman in heels turned us so that we could see our reflections in the full-length mirror in the entrance-way.

Reaching around, still ground tightly to me, back to front, she reached over her head with both arms and clasped her hands around my neck. Causing her lovely dark breasts to stretch up and thrust out, pushing her rigid nipples and puffy aureoles out toward the mirror. The same for the bare-of-hair mound between her thighs.

I closed my own arms around her taught belly and held her, until she purred in my ear, "Higher. Hands on my tits. Fingers on my nips. Pull. Twist. Make my tits cum. Right now. Don't wait. Feel my slutty black boobs and nips. Tug on me, again. Teach me about those 'hot wires' connecting my nips with my clit. Make 'em spark."

I did, working both her tit-fleshed mounds until she started to heave and groan, demanding that I maul her boobs, as she worked herself up to her first orgasm. Then she came, shaking and crying out. Turning around, my dark black woman started tearing at my clothes and demanding that I get naked for her, so she could worship my cock.

I doubt it took 2 minutes before we became one, a raging-hard white guy, holding a drooling-wet black woman, both with an intent to have slutty sex as soon as possible.

We both turned toward the bedroom, at the back of the house. We tried to get there, we really did. But we only made it to the center of the living room. There, she tripped me but then beat me to the floor.

My head fell between two thick dark-black thighs, and that put my head and ears within reach of her grasping hands. I was pulled toward that glass-smooth pussy, complete with now-sloppy-wet pussy and swollen, distended clit. My tongue slid into her pussy, lapped a bit, then up toward her clit. It took that bulging organ in my lips and mouth and applied all the oral vacuum I could.

Her first squirt flew, soaking my chin, neck and chest hair. She screamed louder. A steam calliope went off about 2 feet from my ears, as Shayla screamed and shrieked, heaving and shuddering, one orgasm chasing the other, as I lapped in and around her dripping pussy and clit.

Now, a woman's pussy can be seen and pleasured from outside, but her cunt, well, that's a different matter. No man will ever see a woman's cunt, at least not the middle and deep parts. I could only reach Shayla's cunt with my questing fingers—first one, then two and finally three—but finding and caressing her G-spot.

The steam calliope pumped another 100 lbs. of pressure into the whistles, as my sex-crazed, black cum-slut woman heaved, shouted impossible-to-fulfill obscenities and shuddered through several more orgasms.

Did I mention that the only other way a man can investigate a woman's cunt is by probing it with a hard, fleshy cock, plunging in and out in a frenzy of lust.

I reared back, holding my cock, but paused, as I knew what was coming next: the 'slut's invitation'.

Shayla lay there on her back, braids fanned around her head, eyes closed, loose-lipped and gasping. She pressed her upper arms alongside her boobs, forcing them up and making them fuller. Her forearms went along her belly and her wrists long her hips. Her fingers, tipped by 'sensible' painted nails, grasped at the flesh atop her butt-cheeks. Fingers exposing her scarlet-inflamed pussy and swollen clit. Cuntal opening on display, down about an inch. Her legs were spread open in a wide 'V,' knees and calves stiff, angle and toes pointed.

I touched her distended nipple. She squirted again, with the stream arching up and out a couple of feet, to land on and soak into the carpet.

Grinning like a sex-Goddess maniac, she purred, "Fuck me. I'm your dark black cum-slut. I want sex. Hard, pounding sex with lots of jizz from your cock-end. I want it only from you. I want you to pound me. Use me. Lay me. Make me your own, personal slut. I wanna be your slut. Give you lotsa jungle-juice. I'll always be your slut. Wet, drooling-pussy, hot black cunt slut. Jet your hot, sticky cum deep into me. Fuck me, right now!"

I did. Entered. Penetrated. Drove home. Thrusted. Again and again. No sense in trying to hold back. Made love first, then fucked like a crazed-for-sex man. Violated her black-woman's body with my white man's cock. Drove into her without mercy. Screamed. Shouted. Called her a 'black cunt' and a 'fucking slut'. Came into her, pulsing my hot jizz into her willing body again and again.

Just the way she liked it!

My woman Shayla lay there on the living-room floor, smiling lazily, as a small portion of my stuff oozed out of her womanly pussy opening and made its way down her 'taint' to the carpet. The rest stayed deep within her, slowly merging with her distended cuntal flesh, as she lay there. She nudely demanded that I keep my slowly-softening—but still mostly hard—cock inside her, until it fell out on its own.

Still purring, she said, "You'd have to be a hot-slut black woman to appreciate what that big, thick white cock just did to me. The one that's still deep inside. Stirring all the jungle-juice you love so much. Still massaging my insides. Making me feel all warm and giggly."

Looking down at my woman, once fearful of dying young, who said, "My news first. I'm back to using my RN again, this time on my own. I got the grant. I can pay myself and get another health policy. I can start an woman's sex-clinic of my own. I found a building. I worked out a deal with the diagnostic clinic . I got letters of affirmation from the pharma companies to supply the antiretroviral meds. I found a consulting MD to sign off on the prescriptions. I can counsel and treat women who are infected for life, like me."

"I can surely also tell them that pleasure is good for them and that sex is fun. I can show them all, too, whenever you come there to visit me."

"But," she added, "first and always, I get to spend lots of time with new man, taking him, his loving and fucking and making sure his big white dick is buried inside my black slutty pussy as much as we want ... which is gonna be a lot."

"So, what's your news?"

I looked down at my slutty black woman and said, "You know about all the testing that I've been doing, these last few months. It looks like I'm one of only a handful of people out there. While I test out with the antibodies for HIV, it looks like I'm immune. There are only a few dozen like me in the whole world."

"The best part is that, if I exchange fluids—blood is best but jizz works, too—with another HIV-positive person, much of my immunity is passed on. I have to keep doing it, but a jizz-dose once a week seems to be minimum."

Shayla just smiled, as she said, "I kinda knew that already. Not with tests, but because I got feeling better and better, the longer we were together and the more you came inside me. Right now, I've got this kind-of golden glow, as your spurted stuff seeps into my body, from my inflamed pussy and deeper inside me."

She added, kind of musing, "Once a week, huh? How about 3 to 4 times a day, like we do it now."

Her hips starting to churn and her voice rose to a little-girl squeal, she moaned out, "Wanna try for some more over-the-top injections of lusty HIV-immunity man-juice into your dark black sex-kitten? Make me immune, too. Come on, guy, let's stir the jungle-juice!"

—THE END—