Was I Raped?

The cock fucking my ass finally stopped hurting me. In my clouded and frightened state, I could not help but begin to feel aroused. My dick, against my will stayed hard. A soapy, black hand reaches around me and begins jerking me off.

The large stranger fucking me whispered in my ear that it would be better for both of us if I just relaxed and let it happen. "Don't fight it honey", is how he put it. "You'll like this. I knew it when I saw you. You got some bitch in you. Let me bring her out. Let me be her new daddy."

I was being fucked for the first time. Worse, I was responding to my rapist like a bitch in heat .

2 hours ago:

Jeeze, what a day!

I'd been out of town for two weeks now, working on a project for the home office. This particular stage was taking longer than I'd hoped. Nerves were frayed. Teams were bickering amongst themselves. The Fire Marshall kept making us change our plans to meet his moving target of requirements.

What should have been a rubber stamp approval had turned into a bureaucratic tug-of-war.

I've managed several construction projects for APSource, the corporation I work for. None had been as rough as this one. I began to suspect that there was a pissing contest between my home office and the local politicians.

Their power struggle didn't concern me, but it does affect my performance. It usually takes 5 days to get official approvals of our final, design intent drawings. I was now 14 days into it and still there was no sign of capitulation from the local authorities.

I left the Municipal Building tired of arguing my point to the little tyrant, and headed back to my hotel.

Sharon, my wife of 15 years called me during my walk. It was a welcomed call. I missed her. After sharing updates on what our two children were up to and the local gossip, Sharon told me she was horny. The call became a sexy one. Sharon was telling me what she was going to do to me when I got back. My cock stiffened to her detailed description of the blow job she was planning for me.

For my part, I told her how I missed her sweet pussy, and how I wanted to plant my face in it, and lap my cares away.

I was rock hard by the time the call ended. I entered the hotel and went to the lobby bar for a drink, hoping my hard-on was unnoticed by the other patrons.

I settled onto a bar stool and ordered a double, single malt on the rocks. Nursing my scotch, I was lost in thought, trying to figure a way to get our plans approved so I could start construction.

I was torn from my contemplations when a rather large, black man took the stool beside mine. I thought that was a dick move because there were many empty stools that weren't adjacent to the one I occupied.

When his drink arrived, he took a big swallow and as I thought to myself, "here it comes", he turned to me and told me what a nice evening it was.

"Yeah, if you say so." I wanted no conversation. I was happy, alone in my miseries.

"You don't want to talk man? That's cool. Sorry to bother you. It's just that you have the same lonely look that I'm feeling. Been here way too long. Miss my ladies."

I really didn't want to be rude. It's not who I am. Being somewhat diminutive, I survived by the rule, " you go along, to get along". It saved me many an ass kicking when I was young.

I'm only 5'6" and my weight is almost 145. Sure I have a slight stature but I am reasonably handsome. I have a full head of dark brown hair. Regardless of the present stress I'm under, my hair remains long and thick. I keep it slicked back in a sort of pony tail.

Okay, fuck it, it's a pony tail plain and simple.

My slender waist, accentuates my hips, and I do have a nice behind. Sharon thinks it's sexy. My dick disappoints her though. I can muster a 5" erection but I realize Sharon is able to accommodate a much larger cock. I make up for my lack of size with expert cunnilingus.

I can eat a mean pussy. It's the only way I can bring my wife off.

It's a bit of a trade-off though.

Sharon lets me fuck her for the few minutes it takes me to cum. That's too quickly to suite her. She'll then, sit on my face as I lick and suck her to climax.

Over the years I gotten used to the taste of my cum. We don't discuss that aspect, but I'm sure Sharon enjoys feeding it to me. I've seen a strange look on her face when she's watching me eat her.

Anyway, turning to face my stool mate, I apologize for my abruptness and explained my situation.

"I'm frustrated with the lack of progress and I miss my bride."

That seemed to appease him. He slapped my back and told me he understood.

The only problem was his hand lingered. He actually had the nerve to rub my shoulder and let his hand trail down and slapped my ass.

I was uncomfortable with his taking that liberty and told him so.

"Please don't do that. I'm not that way."

"Which way is that?", he seemed to enjoy my discomfort.

I looked around to see if anyone was close enough to hear me. I didn't want to offend anyone. "I'm not gay." I said in a low, stern voice. "And I don't appreciate your hand on me. We just met."

We just met? What the fuck is wrong with me.

I was used to this though. All my adult life I'd had to deal with the annoyance of men hitting on me. For some reason I appeal to homosexuals. I don't have anything against the GLBT community. As a matter of fact, one of my best friends is gay. He always hits on me in a playful manner, but he knows I don't go there.

"I'm not gay either boy. Just trying to be friendly. That ass slap is a hang over from my days playing college ball. It's what us athletes do when one of us makes a nice play."

The bar tender came and asked if we wanted refills. I told him to make mine a single. While my seat-mate gave him his order, I took a quick few seconds to appraise him.

Like I said, he was large. His skin was a deep rich chocolate brown. His bald head reflected what little light there was in the dimly lit bar. His suit fit him like a glove and it looked expensive.

Okay, so maybe I read him wrong initially. Maybe he means well. I know I'm a little tense from the pressure I feel from my job. Maybe I over reacted. I should be more neighborly.

"Put his drink on my tab" I told the bar keep.

"Roger that" the bar tender said and left to fill our orders.

"Thank you honey." The black man is talking to me.

"What the heck is that honey crap?" I demanded.

"Man but you're bitchy. Keep on talking to me like that and I'll slap that pretty face of yours."

Uh oh. I've pissed him off.

"Sorry. It's just that you... I mean, I. No. I mean you... I don't know what I mean. It's just no man has called me honey before." He's got me stuttering like a Catholic whore going to confession.

"I bet your daddy called you honey when you were a little boy."

He had a point.

"He probably did. Unfortunately he died a couple years ago. "He can't call me honey anymore."

I've made my point.

"I can be your daddy, boy." He's taunting me. "I'll be a good daddy to my baby girl."

What the fuck? His large hand is on my thigh. He's rubbing me. Christ, is there no end to this? I stand and finishing my drink in one gulp, I hurry to leave this handsome man. He's embarrassing me.

Did I just say handsome? What the fuck is wrong with me?

Well, he wasn't bad looking. Okay?

I leave the bar and go to my room. Changing into shorts and T-shirt, I head for the on-site gym. I need a good workout.

The gym is deserted which is fine with me. I do a few reps on the universal, run a mile on the treadmill and work myself into a satisfying sweat.

I head for the shower, taking a hotel towel and gratis soap.

As I washed, my thoughts turned to Sharon. My wife is beautiful. I married outside of my scope. She has light brown hair that she wears long and hi-lighted. Her boobs are a smallish but perky 32 D. Her ass more than makes up for them. Pert, round, firm, and sexy. I've spent a lot of time kissing her buttocks. It turns us both on for me to do that.

We met in college and dated through grad school. I knew she had been seeing others behind my back while we first dated, but that was okay. We weren't exclusive then. I'd also heard rumors that Sharon dated some of the student athletes, the black ones. That didn't really bother me. I'm liberal in my thinking.

Actually, I found it exciting. It's become a fetish with me. I've masturbated many times to the thought of my wife groaning and moaning under some black stud as he fucks his seed up her pussy.

Sick? Maybe. Erotic? Definitely.

I soap up my cock and think of my sexy wife and the "welcome home" blow job she's planning for me.

My dick gets hard. I lean under the spray, one hand supporting me on the wall, the other, jacking my dick.

Suddenly an arm encircles my neck. An unseen face whispers to me, "Relax. This won't hurt much."

I see a black foot pushing one of my feet apart from the other, widening my stance.

I feel pressure on my anus. He's trying to penetrate me.

"Oh God, please don't do this." I beg. "No. Don't. Please don't."

"Arrrggg. Oh God it hurts. Please stop."

"Shsssh now baby girl. Daddy will get you though this."

"It's him! It's that annoying negro from the bar. He's raping me. Oh dear God no." I'm silently praying.

That's when my destiny was determined for me. My dick got hard. I don't want this but my body responds anyway.

Helpless and afraid, I relax, hoping my assault will end quickly. And that's when I begin to enjoy what's happening to me.

That's when this big black hand reached around and started stroking my dick.

"Let me rub your boy clit." He whispered in my ear.

Using his thumb and two fingers, this black man is masturbating all resistance out of me.

I moved my ass back to him, on his out stroke. I'm fucking him back. I don't understand my own actions. I'm liking the feeling of being filled. I like how he's taken control of me. I fuck him back.

"That's it baby girl. Give your new daddy that pussy." His words resonate in me. "You want me to fuck you, don't you? You want me to be your daddy. Don't you?"

His arm was finally off my neck. I hang my head in shame. "Yes. Please fuck me. Please be my daddy."

I reach behind myself, in spite of myself and hold his balls in my hand. I'm mesmerized by the contrast of his large black hand on my little, white dick. My little white boy clit. I shoot my cum on the fingers jacking me, and on the shower stall wall. It was the most intense orgasm I'd ever experienced.

My legs are weak and my lover holds me up by my waist with one arm. He brings his cum covered fingers to my mouth. "Suck em boy."

I do. I slavishly lick my sperm from the big fingers. Two fingers invade my mouth and I suck them like a cock.

I must have pleased this brute. I feel him pulse deep in my ass.

Taking his fingers from my sucking mouth, he grabs my pony tail forcing my head back. I'm staring at the ceiling as he humps and grunts his load deep up my ass.

When he's finished cumming, he lets me fall to my knees. I'm exhausted. On my hands and knees, I feel the warm water cascading on me. I feel his cum leaking out of me. All I can do is pant.

I'm unable to face my attacker. I stay in my position and hear him washing up. Cleaning the cock that just fucked me to my knees.

"Meet me in the bar, bitch. You got 15 minutes."

"Yes sir." I'm beaten.

"Who motherfucker? Don't you mean daddy?"

"Yes daddy. I'll be there."

I knew I would too.