Incendiary Circumstances Ch. 05

With the lewdness of her new behaviors, her partial undressing for her young black beau in the car and the surrender of her bare breasts to his hands, Marie became like a demanding tigress. Her hands on Blaine became like his usually were on her, caressing his shoulders, his back, his sides, his arms. Pushing herself back from his chest and stomach she admired the stark contrast between her skin and his.

One afternoon she hooked a calf behind his knee, pulling their lower bodies closer, grinding against him. Finally she pulled back, holding his head in her hands, feeling the tight curls of his closely cropped hair and gave him a last, and, had it not been for all the preceding kisses, innocent peck on the lips.

"We've got to go," she said wistfully. Her sexual after-burners had been lit and she was anxious to get home and pleasure herself while his aroma still lingered on her olfactory.

"I can't," Blaine said, in an almost apologetic whisper.

"Why not?" Marie demanded, stepping back, exposing the reason for the young black man's incapacity.

Marie had never seen a bulge as obscene as the one occupying the front of Blaine's jeans. It seemed to go down his pants leg forever. In their previous sessions, Blaine had struggled mightily and, for the most part successfully to constrain his cock during his make out sessions with the pretty, much older teacher.

This time, her passion overwhelmed his caution. This time when he fought his erection it won. And now both were looking at the result of that battle. Marie shuddered and she felt something unexpected and pleasant roll through her loins. Her need to rush home suddenly increased a hundred fold. But Blaine was having problems of his own.

"Ow!" he exclaimed. "Oh shit, it's starting to hurt, Marie!" he moaned, grabbing his crotch, attempting to shift his package to a more comfortable position, trying to will his phallus to go away. It wasn't working.

"Let's go out to the car," Marie soothed even as Blaine's struggles with his penis enflamed her. "Nobody will see and it'll probably go down during the ride."

"It won't go down while you're next to me," Blaine wailed. "and besides, even if it did, all the precum in it will just drain out and my mom would see it when she did the laundry. She's got radar for that kind of stuff. I can't even jerk off at home."

Like you couldn't wash your own fucking pants for once? Marie muttered to herself bitchily.

"Please Marie. I've got to take it out before I damage something."

"Oh for god's sake," said an irritated Marie. "Do it over there, I suppose," she said pointing to a darkened corner.

But there was much more than annoyance to Marie's feelings at that moment. There was lust: pure undiluted lust, as pure as she'd ever known. It had begun with Blaine's half naked body, his kisses, his smell as arousing as anything she'd ever experienced, as effective an aphrodisiac as the legendary Spanish Fly.

Marie had already wanted to race home to finger herself before the boy's erection appeared and, like hard-ons often do,became the conversation. Now she was beyond reason as she watched the incredible stud that was her summer helper walk to the corner to fix his hard on problem.

Marie, if she'd thought about it at all, would have expected the boy undo his fly and make the needed adjustment. What he did was undo his pants and drop them to the floor.

More surprising than that, to Marie at least, Blaine wore tighty-whitey briefs. She didn't know what she'd expected, but those weren't it. They were so tight across his buns the darkness of his skin bled through. What happened next was more surprising still.

Instead of the quick shaft shifting most men needed and didn't require dramatic re-positioning of clothing, Blaine also lowered his briefs. Marie couldn't believe her eyes when those dark chocolate buns came into view.

Oh shit! Marie groaned silently as she ogled Blaine bubbled posterior, feeling the fermentation processing in her vulva speed up like heat and carbonation had just been added.Holy fucking shit! She felt faint.

Blaine's briefs formed a thick white line, the kind you make with the side of the chalk rather than the tip, a few inches below the tops of his legs. His shirt was off, his jeans were bunched at his ankles, and his underpants were just above mid-thigh. He was, for Marie's purposes, naked, definitely naked where it counted even if her view was from the less desirable side of the room. Still, his cock was out where it was possible for someone to see it even if she couldn't.

Yumfuckingeeeee, Marie thought excitedly as she stood and watched the young, black stud revealed lewdly before her. He was built the way only certain college and professional athletes are built: broad shoulders; tapered back; narrowed waist and hips; long legs; muscles everywhere.

Try as she would to take him all in, Marie's eyes kept darting back to that tight butt. She was reminded why she sometimes stayed to watch the professional football game her husband had on a little longer than a lack of interest in the game would indicate. It was because some running back, or wide receiver, or defensive back's butt seemed to be calling her by name through the television.

Now that high definition, big screen TVs had completed their take over of her home, ass viewing was even more arousing and satisfying. The best buns were, invariably, on the black guys. Not only were their buttocks more meaty but their tight, often white, pants were so thin as to be translucent.

The blackness of those ass cheeks could be seen right through the pants. The white straps of their jocks could be easily made out, confirming that what one was seeing was indeed that beautiful black skinned ass. Sometimes when Marie was watching TV in another room while Dave watched the game, she would flip over to the game just to titillate herself. She would especially do this if she knew a favorite player was playing.

Now she was viewing one of those fabulous hineys in the flesh, no football pants to cloud the scene, just pure 100% Blaine. Her mouth began to water and she understood why. She hadn't performed analingus since college but she immediately remembered the perverted rush she got licking a boyfriend's sphincter. She'd tried to interest Dave but, while he tolerated her sliding a finger in his back door while fellating him, he had pushed her away the few times she approached the wrinkle with her mouth.

Now, she wanted nothing more than to separate Blaine's cleft, breathe in his musky aroma, bury her face, and lick away. Marie was mesmerized and it wasn't until she detected his arm moving that she looked away from Blaine's black butt.

"Blaine!" Marie whispered although it wasn't necessary. Nobody was around to hear them. "What are you doing? We have to go."

"I have to finish this first," he answered somewhat out of breath. "It's the only way I can get it back in my pants."

He's jerking off! Marie thought incredulously.He's actually beating his fucking meat while I'm standing here watching!

"B-but Blaine," she stammered. "I'm standing right here!"

"Do you want to watch?"

"Blaine! Don't say things like that." Certainly she wanted to watch and just as certainly she wouldn't allow it.

Both became quiet as Blaine sought his release into a corner of a stuffy storage room beneath the stands of the high school football stadium. Marie may have held her breath the entire time as she watched the back of a naked black boy whose arm seemed extended an extraordinary distance in front of his body for someone masturbating.

Blaine began grunting and clenching his buttocks. It seemed that his release was imminent. His arm picked up its pace and soon he was moaning loudly as what Marie could only assume was a monstrous orgasm overcame him. She could see him arch his back and thrust out his groin but not the volleys of cum that arced from his cock and landed on the walls or floor.

Marie felt her own body quiver as a sort of Couvade Syndrome equivalence shook her body in a psycho-physiological response meant to share Blaine's pleasure.

"Could you get me a paper towel?" Blaine asked when he'd stopped shaking and groaning. "I need to clean up."

Blaine's hand was behind him and Marie handed him one of those towels, like those in dispensers in public lavatories. All the teams that summer carried them.

"I'll need more than that," Blaine said. "I must be dealing with a lot more than your used to here."

Marie didn't even notice his impudence as she handed him four more then watched from behind as Blaine blotted up the semen that covered his hand and cock. Blaine pulled up his underpants and turned around.

The pouch formed by the enormity of Blaine's softening cock was so large that the elastic of the waist band and leg holes of his briefs was pulled outward from his body leaving gaping openings large enough for Marie to see some black skin of his scrotum through the leg hole and an inch or two of the base of his cock above the waist band before he pulled up his pants and fastened up his fly.

Good lord he's hung! she thought, continuing to stare at Blaine's partially exposed genitals while he finished drying his semen caked fingers with the towels.

"Where can I put these?" Blaine asked holding out the cum soaked paper towels. Marie could see they were drenched with strands and globs of creamy semen.

"I'll take them," she said grabbing the wad from him and walking to the trash shaking her head while Blaine buckled his belt. She could feel the still warm goo on her palms even after she deposited them.

Blaine was putting his tee shirt back on when Marie said, "What about that?" meaning the stuff Blaine had shot on the floor and against the wall.

"I don't know, can't we just leave it?"

"No Blaine, we can't," said Marie, grabbing a double handful of towels and squatting in the corner to mop up the remainder of Blaine's mess.