“Ja, ja!” Manfred eagerly encouraged her. “Show him what a posh little English slut you are.”
The locker room echoed with the sound of wet slurping, as Sally bobbed her head back in forth in front of Jules’ lap, and licked and sucked and worshipped his straining cock with her eager lips and tongue.
Jules’ eyes were half closed in ecstasy, and from the moans he was making, it was clear he was just seconds away from spurting into her hungrily sucking mouth.
But then, with a wet-sounding ‘pop,’ Sally pulled her mouth away.
She looked up, saliva glistening on her chin, and begged Jules: “Please. Let me feel what it’s like inside me.”
Jules’ eyes widened.
“F-fuck yeah,” he nodded eagerly.
Sally giggled, and struggled to her feet. Then, turning around, she bent over one of the old wooden benches and presented her bottom to Jules eagerly.
It was still covered by the light cotton of her short dress, and as Sally looked back over her shoulder, deep into Jules eyes, she murmured: “You’ll have to take my knickers off…”
“Y-your what?”
“Her panties,” Manfred groaned eagerly, stroking his thick cock. “Yank the slut’s panties down, mein freund. Fuck her!”
And Jules didn’t need to be told twice.
He stepped up behind Sally, and with trembling hands lifted the hem of her cotton dress.
She shuddered, and gasped as the cool air hit her now-exposed thighs.
Draping the hem of her dress over her waist, Jules looked down at a pert, tight little bottom, hidden beneath a pair of simple, blue panties.
“Come on,” Sally looked over her shoulder, and wiggled her little round rump. “Pull them down.” She bit her bottom lip. “I want to feel that big, black dick in me.”
Jules actually drooled at that point – a glob of spit dripping down onto the small of Sally’s back.
Eagerly, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Sally’s panties, and tugged them down.
Slowly they peeled back, revealing inch after inch of pale, perfect ass cheek. As Jules finally pulled them down to her thighs, Sally’s whole bottom ‘popped’ out, and the horny young black man gasped at the alabaster perfection of this little English woman’s backside.
“Come on,” Sally wiggled her ass again, and this time Jules tugged her panties to her knees, and let her kick them aside, sending them flying across the room with one flick of her ankle.
And then she was naked from the waist down, eager and panting.
“Oh, shit,” Jules groaned, as Sally spread her legs, and wiggled her bottom at him.
He grabbed the shaft of his cock – still glistening with Sally’s saliva – and lined it up between the cheeks of her ass. Sally moaned as she felt the tip of his dick nuzzle between the glistening lips of her eager pussy.
Finally, before he thrust, Jules looked across the room towards Manfred. The German’s cock looked so hard, and red, and swollen that it must have been painful.
“Y-you’re sure, bro,” he demanded. “You don’t want me to wear a condom, or nothing?”
“I want you to fuck my little princess, like she is a cock-hungry little slut,” Manfred groaned. “I want you to make her beg for that big, black dick – and then I want you to, as you Americans say, ‘bust your nut in her.”
He licked his lips eagerly.
“Her old boyfriend thought she was so sweet, and pure and innocent,” the German grinned. “So I take special pleasure in watching her get taken like a slutty little whore.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Julius
This shit was weird. As horny and turned on as he was, even Jules had to admit that.
But he was naked, and his balls ached, and the head of his painfully-stiff cock was already nuzzling at the entrance to this beautiful English girl’s pussy.
Unable to restrain himself, he grasped her slender hips, and thrust slowly and inexorably inside her.
“Oh, fuuuuuuck,” Sally groaned, her spine stiffening as she felt herself stretched and filled by Jules’ enormous cock. “Oh, shit, Manny…” She stretched out a hand, and her boyfriend grabbed and squeezed it. “Oh, shit, he’s splitting me in half!”
“Heilige Scheiße!” Manfred gasped. “That looks so fucking sexy. That big, black dick going inside you.” He was rubbing his straining cock now. “Oh, fuck.”
And then, stepping in front of his girlfriend, Manfred grabbed a fistful of her chocolate-brown hair, and jerked her head up until his cock was pointed directly at her face.
Sally Fox, that pale and perfect little English rose, eagerly opened her mouth and engulfed the tip of Manfred’s straining cock.
“Oh, shiiiit,” Jules groaned, as he watched the girl he was fucking take another cock, from the other end. “Yo, you two are fucking freaky.”
Not that he cared. Not that he was able to process anything much, really, apart from the delicious tightness of Sally’s pussy.
Jules was buried up to the balls inside her now, and as he grasped her slender waist, he started to fuck her in earnest.
To pound a tiny little white girl like this? It was like being in his own personal porn movie. Looking down and seeing his big, black cock slide in and out from between her pert, pale ass cheeks was almost enough to send him spurting inside of her.
“D-don’t hold back,” Manfred was groaning, as Sally eagerly sucked and slurped on his cock. “Blow your load in her. Despoil her.” Jules wasn’t even sure what ‘despoil’ meant. “Treat her like a little cumbucket, you magnificent black bastard.”
And it was the ridiculousness of those last three words that tipped Jules over the edge.
Thrusting as deeply inside the moaning little white girl as possible, Jules squeezed shut his eyes, moaned hotly, and felt his cock swell, and throb, and finally spurt deep inside her.
“Mmmppph!” Mouth full of cock, Sally could do nothing but mumble and moan as she felt herself flooded by his hot spurts. “Mmmmph!”
Scalding spurt after spurt filled her, until Jules’ balls were drained, and he slumped to one side with a satisfied groan.
His softening cock slithered from Sally’s plundered pussy; followed by a deluge of hot cum that gushed down her thighs like a pearlescent river.
“Oh, ja,” Manfred groaned, as he watched the black stranger unload himself inside his girlfriend. “Let me see.” And then he grabbed a fistful of Sally’s hair, and pulled her mouth from his cock. “Let me see, du kleine Schlampe!”
Sally slumped onto the bench, gasping and groaning, with saliva drooling down her chin. She squeaked in protest, as Manfred manhandled her; tossing her onto her back, and hoisting up her legs like she was a rag doll.
An ankle in each hand, Manfred spread Sally’s legs, and peered eagerly at her freshly-fucked, cum-filled cunt.
His cock, glistening with her saliva, throbbed.
“You are such a little slut,” Manfred groaned, reaching down to scoop up a dribble of Jules’ cum from her cunt. “Look at this?” And then he thrust his glistening fingers into her face, and without even thinking about it, Sally leaned forward and licked them clean.
“Damn, girl,” Jules’ eyes widened. “That’s nasty.”
But neither of them were listening now. In fact, it was like Jules wasn’t even in the room.
Manfred and Sally were locked eye-to-eye, like teenage lovers. He was crawling on top of her, as she lay on the bench with her legs spread and her dress hiked up around her waist.
Grasping the root of his straining cock, Manfred nuzzled it against the cum-filled entrance to her freshly fucked pussy – and then thrust.
“Oh, fuuuuuck,” Sally’s arms wrapped around her boyfriend’s shoulders as the German’s thick cock slid inch-by-inch inside of her.
“You little slut,” Manfred spat in her face, and then kissed her. “I fucking adore you, you little whore.” And then he started to fuck her, hard and fast, until the bench creaked in protest.
Jules
just stood there, watching with amazement.
Manfred hammered into his willing girlfriend, and she clung to him like a limpet. In just a few seconds, she was clawing at his back, and then she came loudly and wetly as he ground against her.
“Maybe I should have let you cum on his cock,” Manfred teased her, kissing Sally wetly. “Would you like that, you little whore?”
“N-no, just yours,” Sally groaned, sinking her teeth into his bare shoulder. “Oh, fuck… Just you, baby. Just you…” And then she came again.
In fact, Manfred had fucked her to three orgasms by the time he approached his climax.
By then he was like a beast, pounding her and pinning her to the bench like a helpless fuck-toy.
One of his powerful hands curled around her throat, and he choked her mercilessly. The other squeezed one of her small, pert breasts.
She came again, gurgling as she struggled to breath.
And it was that sound that tipped Manfred over the edge.
Groaning, he sunk deeply inside his moaning girlfriend, and exploded.
Scalding hot spurts filled her, as she took her second load of cum in as many minutes.
Her fifth and final orgasm was totally involuntary.
And only after long, sweaty minutes – as they both shuddered in the sweet release of orgasm – did reality begin to set in again.
Manfred looked up, seeing Jules staring at them both awkwardly.
The German coughed awkwardly, pulling his softening cock from his girlfriend’s plundered depths. She squeaked, slapping a hand between her legs as his cum joined the rest dribbling out of her.
“S-sorry about that,” Manfred grinned guilty, as he helped Sally up into a sitting position. “We get a little… carried away.”
Jules snorted, scratching his drained balls.
“Brother, as long as you’re offering to let me be the chocolate filling in your girlfriend’s cookie sandwich,” he purred, “you can get as carried away as you like.”
“Sehr gut,” the German grinned eagerly. Because we might decide to spend the night in Hartford tomorrow. And maybe you’ll be up for an encore performance.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Hannibal
The big Bentley slewed to a halt in the Chili’s parking lot, leaving two black rubber trails across the asphalt.
Hannibal Alexander leapt out, and crossed the parking lot in three long strides.
He wrenched open the door to the restaurant and disappeared inside. Moments later, he came storming out – dragging with him Kristen.
“W-where are you taking me?” She was half-laughing, half anxious, as Hannibal dragged her to the Bentley, and wrenched open the passenger door. “What’s gotten into you…?”
But it wasn’t what had gotten into him that was the issue.
Throwing her onto the leather seat, Hannibal clambered into the car with Kristen, and started pulling down her yoga pants.
“Holy shit,” red-faced, Kristen peered anxiously out of the window as Hannibal yanked her pants and panties down around her knees. “It’s broad daylight, you maniac! And I’m only on break for another five minutes!”
And then she yelped, as Hannibal flipped her over, shoved her face-first between the seats, and positioned himself behind her.
Kristen moaned hotly, as her stepbrother’s big, black dick was thrust inside her.
“Holy shit,” she groaned, gripping the seat as Hannibal roughly fucked her in the parking lot. “W-what’s gotten into you?” And then she moaned – because she was young, and horny, and it was difficult to ignore the best part of a foot of delicious black cock buried inside her.
“I-I just came from the gym,” Hannibal groaned hotly into her ear, as he fucked her from behind. “I saw something… something that made me horny.” He didn’t want to tell her that is was the sight of some pretty English princess servicing his brother that had turned him on. “I swear to God, if I didn’t get to fuck you, my balls would have exploded.”
“Y-you’re nuts,” Kristen moaned, head flopping forward as she felt Hannibal’s cock swell inside her. “N-not that I’m complaining.” And then she groaned, and climaxed, just as Hannibal tugged her hair and spurted hotly inside of her.
“Fuuuuuuck,” the big, black man emptied his balls into Kristen’s eager little pussy. “Oh, shiiiit.”
And then he flopped across her back, gasping and groaning.
Giggling, Kristen rolled him off of her, and tugged back up her yoga pants and panties. She grimaced, as hot cum flooded the gusset of her Victoria’s Secret boyshorts.
“I’m going to be sticky all afternoon now.”
“I-it was worth it,” Hannibal panted, reluctantly tucking his own, drained cock back into his pants.
Kristen giggled again. She peered over the back of the seats, at the parking lot.
“I’m surprised nobody saw us!” Hammering her stepbrother in the shoulder, she complained: “The cops could have come and busted us!”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Hannibal panted. He glanced at his G-Shock. “And look, you’ve still got three minutes of break left.”
Laughing, Kristen punched him in the arm.
“You’re such a douchebag, Baller.” And then she leaned over and kissed him. “Now, not that I’m complaining – but what was that about?”
“I just need to see you,” he replied. “And not just because I was horny.” He kissed her hotly. “Are we still cool? After last night?”
“My mom’s pissed at me,” Kristen admitted. “She lectured me for an hour about how you’re a bad influence, and how you’re just going to break my heart. And then your Dad went off on her, defending you.”
She shrugged.
“It was kind of sweet, Hannibal. You could tell it was really tearing him up, having my mom throw all the shitty things he’d said about you back in his face.”
His breath finally getting back to normal, Hannibal sighed.
“Well, the chickens come home to roost, that’s what Pops always used to tell me.” He tied the front of his sweat pants. “Beats me why. Pops doesn’t know a damn thing about chickens.”
Kristen laughed at that.
“Look, I’ve got to get back to work,” she sighed, leaning over and kissing him wetly on the mouth. “And thanks to you, I’m going to be squirmy all afternoon.”
“Well, maybe we can meet up later,” Hannibal looked her in the eye, and squeezed her hand. “Mike paid up for the lessons I’ve been teaching. I can take you for a real dinner – at a place with napkins, and everything.”
She giggled.
“Damn, you know how to treat a girl.”
She kissed him again.
“I’ll text you. Now get out of here, before the cops arrest us for public indecency.”
“If you think what we just did was bad,” Hannibal called after her, as she clambered out of the Bentley, “wait until the indecency I put you through in private.”
Kristen giggled, and blew him a kiss, and tottered (a little bow-legged) back towards the restaurant.
With a wide smile, Hannibal watched her go.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Kristen
“Get the fuck outta here!”
That was the second time the woman with the chardonnay had screeched that at her friend, and this time they’d both descended into hag-like cackles as she did so.
Kristen rolled her eyes. She really wasn’t in the mood for this.
Twenty minutes ago she’d been sinking her teeth into the leather of Hannibal’s Bentley, as he fucked her deliciously from behind. Now she was back to serving appetizers and cocktails, with a napkin draped over one arm and her panties full of cum.
And the three bitches over on table nine were just the icing on the cake.
They looked like Hartford’s typical housewives – twenty-something women with highlighted hair and fake tans, getting together to gossip and badmouth over happy hour cocktails.
Except this afternoon, one of th
em in particular seemed to be holding court, with her two bitchy friends listening in rapt attention.
Kristen couldn’t help it. As she headed over to deliver a plate of wings to the three women, she tuned into their conversation to see what the three of them were cackling about.
And her blood froze when she did so.
“I swear to God, Janine, it was him. I recognized his car in the parking lot.”
“Hannibal Alexander? The fighter?”
The third girl blinked. “Who?”
“The guy from the MMA. He was on TMZ last month for getting into a bust up in a hotel.”
“Oh, that dude.”
“Yeah, I saw him just now, pulling out of the parking lot.”
Kristen was at their table now, and handed over the plate of wings with a forced smile. The three women ignored her, and continued talking.
“How the fuck do you know what car he drives, Janet?”
“Yeah, and isn’t he from LA or something? With all those tattoos and shit.”
“He’s from right here in Hartford,” the woman called Janet corrected them. “I should know, because I fucking dated him in high school.”
“Get the fuck outta here,” screamed Janine, for the third time.
Kristen nearly spilled the empty glasses she was picking up.
“Jesus, watch it,” the third woman growled at her, and then turned back to the first.
“Yeah, and you wanna know how I know it was him?” Janet was continuing talking, and this time muttered her tale in a whisper, so the other two girls had to gather close to hear her. “’Cos he’s in town right now, visiting his folks.”
“How the fuck do you know, you liar.”
“Oh, a liar, am I?” And Janet pulled them in closer, so much so that Kristen could hardly hear them. “Well get a load of this – and don’t you dare tell a fucking soul.”
Kristen’s ears hurt, as she strained to listen to the story.
Janet giggled whoreishly: “I know because I was the first person he called when he rolled into town last week. And during my lunch break at school last week, I fucking blew him in the parking lot.”
Baller: An Interracial MMA Stepbrother Romance Page 14
