Susan & the Black Farm Labourers Ch. 07

In the past six weeks it became obvious to all of us that in the bedroom, her body was something to be used.

I looked at her gaping cunt. I saw the distended lips that a month ago were 'normal.' They were twice the size and the inner lips were slack and open in a long oval. So soon after James's last intrusion I could have slid three fingers in sideways, through the sticky remains of his several loads of sperm, and not touched those loose lips. Her puckered ass was red and swollen, the redness radiating out a good inch and a half.

She realized I was looking at her popular pussy and ass. She looked down and seemed to be considering.

"I know," she said kind of in a soft voice. "It's quite a mess, isn't it? It is like a whore would be. No, worse than a whore. I know I'm a whore and more of a whore every day. But there's really no stopping, is there? I just keep going farther and farther and there's really no end, is there?"

"You think you could do four or five a day," I asked. "Wouldn't be any more actual fucking if you only let them fuck you once each."

"Maybe," she said. "I love this. All the Black cock. And I know the next six weeks would be no problem. But I'm just not sure after that. Did you know I haven't actually been dressed in five days? I spend half the morning in the bathtub. And look at my nipples. They're so swollen and sore I couldn't wear a bra if I wanted to."

She gingerly ran her fingers over her nipples. There were fading red blotches, along with some newer, dark red marks.

"Well, it's up to you," I said. "But if you think it's too much, you don't have to do it. Or you could do it only as much as you felt comfortable with. And forget the anal."

It was ironic to see her filled with doubt when her pussy was lubricating itself all over again.

She said she'd just wait and see. I suggested maybe she'd feel better if she went for a physical. If the doctor found nothing wrong, that would be a good place to start.

"If this does come about, in what ever shape, I want to do away with our agreement that i not fuck you. We wouldn't do away with it completely, but we could modify it," I said.

Susan got a puzzled look on her face.

"But the agreement was for you," she said. "Not being able to fuck me while somebody else does it repeatedly was the whole point. I don't know. It sounds like you're chickening out. Losing willpower. I think I'd have to see what William thinks. All the guys get a big thrill out of you being cuckolded this completely."

I suppose I looked a bit sheepish. She frowned at me.

"Well, maybe things changed," was all I could say. "This is all new, this past six weeks. It's not like other times."

"You're the cuckold," she reminded me. "You don't get to make decisions. I know it must be hard for you, but really, if you got to have any say, there wouldn't be much point in doing it. I'll talk to William. Maybe we can fit you in somehow."

I nodded.

"So you really want to fuck me," she said, fingers once again playing with her clit and pussy lips. "You'd like to slide your cock into this Black-owned pussy, just to see how stretched out a real cock makes it? How wet it becomes because I get so horny and my juices start to flow?"

I nodded again. She was teasing me.

"How about you just feel it a little bit," she suggested. "Maybe just use your fingers. No, maybe that's not a good idea."

She went off on a different track.

"You remember before Dave went off the Africa,? she asked. "That last night when you slept down here and he and I fucked half the night? Well we started talking and he wondered how many times he'd actually fucked me. I asked how he would define that, and he said, the actual number of times he'd cum in me whether it be my cunt, mouth, or ass. So we started figuring it out by average times we got together each month and average number of times he came in me. After a bit we came to the conclusion it was 2,800 times in nine years."

I did some quick math and figured that to be pretty close. So I nodded for her to continue, not sure at all where she was going with it.

"Later, I started trying to figure out how many guys I'd been with since you and I met. I couldn't really remember them all, but came up with a couple of dozen and concentrated on the few who were regulars. Rob (you remember Rob?) was around for about three years, that was before Dave. And then there was Jeff and George, and there were three Marks. Anyway, I figured in the 10 or 12 years before Dave came along I was doing it about three times a week. That's maybe another 2,000 times. Plus since Dave there have been a handful of others. Some were one time, others were a lot of times. Like Mike. Mike and I fucked dozens of times and remember he took me on vacation with him for two weeks. So, say another 1,000 times. Altogether I'd estimate that since we met, I've been fucked by other guys almost 6,000 times. Then I figured out roughly how many times you've fucked me. You wanna take a guess?"

I sat there sort of speechless. I'd done the numbers before, so I knew roughly the answer. We'd been together for 26 years.

"Ah, well, I never stopped to figure it out," I lied. I don't lie, but I figured I was in a spot and I didn't know where she was headed. She was leaning forward from her cross-legged position, and her pussy lips were hanging open, and the drips of James's cum were still collecting on those lips, and they were dropping to the cushion, and I was getting a bit overwhelmed.

"Go ahead, guess," she said.

"3,000, I guess might be close," I suggested.

"Wrong," she smiled, as if making her point. "Guess again."

"Okay, 3,500."

"Nope," she said, smiling more fiercely. "Try 1,100. And that's being generous. You were so busy getting other guys to fuck me, and getting off on it, that you've only fucked me maybe, and I say maybe, once a week. And there have been times that you haven't been allowed to even touch me. I can think of once for six months and another time for almost a year."

She sat back, looking hard at me as if she had just delivered a lesson that I was supposed to learn from.

"So, what are you saying," I asked.

"You want to fuck me all of a sudden, right? Over the years the norm has been, on average, once a week. So if it's okay with William, we'll make it average once a week. Only if he says it's okay."

Things were looking up, and my face must have shown it.

"There's another thing," she said. "I know the thought of somebody making me pregnant has always excited you. I remember all of those fantasies from way back."

I nodded agreement.

"So if they do end up agreeing, and I'm not making any promises, you have to wear condoms from now on."

This I hadn't counted on, but she was right, it would be more exciting. She knew me too well.

"You're not going to get pregnant," I countered for argument's sake. "The chances - at your age and on the Pill - are one in a million. Me wearing a condom or not doesn't even figure into it."

"People play the lottery for 10 times those odds - and they expect at some point they're going to win," she said. "I doubt I'll ever be carrying a Black baby - but, you never know. This is your fantasy. And to tell you the truth, if I got pregnant... well let's just say I wouldn't consider it the worst thing in the world. You're not the only one with fantasies."

I mentally gulped as she leaned over to the coffee table to get an ashtray. Her firm breasts swung free of the shirt and the long, engorged nipples looked ripe for sucking. I remembered her years of breast feeding. She was one of those women who didn't stop until the kids were well past being toddlers - and there was only 15 months between our kids. Five, maybe six years she was producing milk - and there was lots for everybody. I was getting harder, if that was possible, just thinking of the milk once again issuing forth from her body. It had been quite an exciting period.