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Looking For A Lodger
by Rivkeh (address withheld)

***

When I took a holiday in London at the age of 22 I was 
a virgin. But I met a man who brought out the whore in 
me and before long I was auditioning well-hung black 
men to decide who should be my live-in lover. (M+/F, 
1st, exh, dom, cuck, intr, fetish, prost, beast)

***

Up until the time I came to England at the age of 22 I 
had led quite a sheltered life. An Israeli born and 
brought up in Jerusalem, I did almost three years in 
the Israeli Defence Force and one year at university. 
Even in the army I met mainly other Israeli girls, as I 
spent my national service in a training camp training 
other female recruits. Only one thing out of the 
ordinary happened, when one day near the end of my 
service I was demonstrating firearms and one of the 
girls' machine-guns went off and several shells slammed 
into my right breast, shoulder and arm. 

I was six months in hospital having operations but they 
could not save my right arm, and most of my shoulder, 
including the shoulder blade, part of my breast and two 
of my ribs had to be removed. This was a terrible shock 
for a girl of 21. But I spent the next year at 
university, training to be a teacher, and then as a 
treat my aunt invited me to London for a summer 
vacation.

One night she took me to dinner at the house of some 
friends, and there I met an Englishman, not Jewish but 
Gentile, who was in his late twenties, was handsome and 
funny and was not shocked by me being without an arm. I 
suppose being tall, well-proportioned and pretty, with 
a pale complexion and long black hair helped. We saw 
each other regularly, going together to pubs and 
nightclubs, and after a few dates he told me I should 
wear clothes that were less "frumpy". 

I must admit that like many Jewish girls, even though I 
was not religious, I wore long skirts, thick tights, 
flat-heeled shoes, thick long-sleeved jumpers, and long 
overcoats, and wore my hair conservatively. My English 
boyfriend said he would take me out one weekend and buy 
me some sexier clothes. Despite, or perhaps because, of 
my upbringing, where I had never been able to choose my 
clothes, I found this exciting, and looked forward to 
this shopping spree.

I was quite surprised, even a little shocked, and 
certainly thrilled at the shops he took me to and the 
clothes he suggested I try. There was also a sexual 
thrill because I often needed the help of him or a shop 
assistant to zip me in and out of the dresses and 
skirts. After two days of shopping in high streets and 
markets.

I ended up with three tight black long-sleeved mini-
dresses, one of wool, one of satin and the other of 
velvet; a knee-length black diaphanous dress without 
sleeves; a blue denim mini-skirt, blue denim mini-dress 
and blue denim jacket; a sleeveless white cotton mini-
dress that flared out from the waist; a sleeveless 
combat camouflage mini-dress; three black mini skirts, 
one of leather, one of latex and the other of shiny 
PVC; a black PVC dress, a black rubber mini-dress; two 
black tops, one a rubber zip-up and the other a PVC 
lace-up.

Also a white cotton lace-up top; a pair of PVC 
knickers; a black leather biker's jacket, a black PVC 
biker's jacket; a long black PVC mackintosh; a shiny 
black sou'wester-type hat; a pair of black leather 
lace-up boots with stiletto heels; black leather pull-
on knee-high boots; two pairs of black thigh boots, one 
flat heeled, the other with stilettos; a pair of black 
cowboy boots, a pair of black rubber riding boots and a 
pair of white thigh boots with low heels. He also 
bought me lingerie, including stockings and suspenders, 
and some items of make-up - lipstick, mascara, eye 
shadow, eyeliner, nail varnish. 

Once, when we were in a little boutique down a side 
street buying the black rubber dress and the lace-up 
boots, the shop assistant, a young black man of about 
18, came into the changing room and helped me dress. He 
laced up the boots and zipped up the dress with loving 
care and as he stood close to me I could feel his 
breath on me and smell him sweating with excitement. 

His hands shook a little. I was excited, too. It was 
the closest I had ever stood to a black man, and he was 
touching me - touching my legs, my backside, my chest, 
my left shoulder, and the right side of my body where 
my right arm, shoulder and breast should have been. As 
he stood close, I could feel his erection against my 
backside. He asked me how I lost my arm, and when I 
told him he got even more aroused. 

After parading for my boyfriend in front of the mirror 
and agreeing to let him buy the outfit, I went back 
into the cubicle with the black assistant behind me to 
get changed. Before he started undressing me, he 
grabbed me by my left shoulder and round my waist and 
started to kiss me. I was frightened and turned on at 
the same time. My heart was beating so much I felt it 
would burst out of my chest. I let him carry on. He 
then started to French kiss. 

I didn't even let my boyfriend do this! I was shocked, 
but I loved it! I put my arm around him and he began to 
caress what was left of my right shoulder. It turned 
him on, obviously. After a minute or to I pulled away 
and stepped back, telling him I must get on. He nodded 
pathetically, and with a sick look on his face, helped 
me change.

I was disturbed by this encounter. So far I had not 
even made love to my boyfriend, and was still awaiting 
an appointment with the doctor to be examined for the 
pill. I was still a virgin. Yet for a moment in that 
cubicle I had been aroused by a black youth in a way I 
had never been before, not even by my boyfriend.

Supposing we had been somewhere else, like in a hotel 
room or the back of a car - would I have succumbed? I 
felt I would have. For the rest of the day, and all 
during next, I found myself looking at every black man 
and black youth that passed us. I was especially 
fascinated by seeing black men with white women, and 
seeing white women with black men's babies. I began to 
wonder what sex with a black man would be like.  

Two days after this encounter my boyfriend took me to a 
nightclub. It was the first time I had ever been to a 
place like this. He helped me dress up in black fishnet 
hold-ups, PVC knickers, black rubber zip-up top, black 
rubber mini-skirt, leather biker's jacket and stiletto 
heeled thigh boots, and after I had made myself up he 
varnished the nails of my left hand, using black for 
one half and red for the other half of each nail. 

I had never seen my face made up before. The red 
lipsticks really brought out the fullness of my lips 
and the mascara, eyeliner and eye shadow made my eyes 
look bigger. Standing back and looking at myself full 
length, I found I turned myself on. I looked dirty and 
sadistic. The fact that the right sleeve of my black 
leather biker's jacket was completely empty made me 
look sinister. I thought it was a pity I did not have 
an eye-patch just to make the look complete. I asked my 
boyfriend: "What do you think?"

"Let me show you," he said. He knelt down and began to 
lick my right boot, starting at the toe and licking the 
length of the foot, then sucking the heel, before 
moving up to the ankle, calf, knee and thigh. When he 
had licked, kissed and sucked the right boot, he 
repeated it with the left. Now I realised. My boyfriend 
was a pervert! I was shocked, hurt even, but again I 
was also excited and turned on. Nothing in my past had 
prepared me for this. It was new; it was thrilling. 

By now he was kissing my thighs and my backside. "I 
will do anything for you," he said.

I laughed. "Anything?"

"Yes," he affirmed, between kisses. "Anything."

I decided to test him. I told him about the black sales 
assistant who had kissed me in the changing room of the 
boutique last Saturday when I was trying on the rubber 
dress and the lace-up boots. "Supposing I had wanted to 
have sex with him?" I asked. "Would you have let me?"

He was in front of me now, lifting my flared rubber 
mini-skirt and kissing my PVC knickers and smelling me. 
"Yes," he said.

I pushed him gently with my knee. "You mean that? I am 
still a virgin. I have only let you kiss and touch me. 
You would let a strange black man fuck me? That is what 
it would be. A fuck."

"Yes, was long as I could make love to you afterwards."

This was amazing! What a revelation!

Playfully, I kicked him to the floor and stuck a 
stiletto heel into his scrotum. "Would you let him fuck 
me in front of you?"

"Yes! Yes!"

I pushed my heel against him even harder. "I am full of 
his semen. Would you still want to make love to me?"

"Oh, yes, yes!"

Placing my foot on his chest, I asked: "Supposing I 
suck his black cock, and he came in my mouth, would you 
still want to kiss me."

"Yes!"

"If I spat his semen into your mouth, would you drink 
it? Would you swallow it?"

"Yes, yes, yes!"

"You're not normal. You're a sick pervert," I told him. 
          
"I know," he admitted. "I can't help it. I've always 
been a voyeur. I've always wanted my girlfriend to 
dress up in fetish gear and watch her flirt with other 
men and then have sex with them in front of me! I'll do 
anything for a woman like that."

I realised now just how much power I could have over 
him. All I had to do was dress in leather, rubber, PVC 
and thigh boots, and I would have him grovelling on the 
floor! Whereas before having only one arm and made me 
timid, I had now gained a new source of strength, and 
my boyfriend had given it to me. By dressing me up in 
fetish clothing, he had willingly let me have power 
over him and over other men. I was anxious to get to 
this nightclub and flirt with them in front of him. 
Perhaps there would be some handsome black youths.

Once he had dressed and I had rearranged my makeup we 
left his flat and walked to the nightclub, which was a 
few blocks away. This walk alone was an interesting 
experience. Holding my boyfriend round the waist with 
my one arm, while he held me round the hips, I received 
admiring glances from parties of men passing us in the 
opposite direction. Women, too, stared at me wide-eyed. 

Passing cars beeped their horns and flashed their 
lights on and off, the men inside shouting remarks out 
of the windows. A group of black men went by and one 
turned to his mates and said: "Did you see the 
strawberry pips on that!" I asked my boyfriend what he 
meant. "Lips," he said. I noticed his penis was erect 
under his tight leather trousers.

As we neared the club a car pulled up alongside of us, 
and a young black man got out and said to my boyfriend: 
"I like your woman." He gave my boyfriend a card. It 
was for a swingers' club and he urged us to get in 
touch so he could tell us about the next meeting. 
Taking another look at me, he got back into his car.

In the queue outside the club there were many different 
kinds of people: punks, Goths, fetishists, grungy 
student types, common tarts, tourists, Arabs, Asians, 
Orientals and blacks. Because of this and because they 
were all into themselves and their own little world, we 
did not stand out or attract much attention. Inside my 
boyfriend bought himself a pint and me half a pint of 
lager, and we sat on high stools at a chest-high table. 

I had never had an alcoholic beverage before, not even 
kosher wine, so I sipped my drink slowly. In the time 
it took me to drink half a pint, he drank three whole 
pints. This worried me - I began to wonder if he had a 
drinking problem. (He found this very funny when I told 
him later.) 

Each time he went to the bar I looked around me and 
noticed little groups of men and women staring at me 
and talking about me. Their looks seemed to be admiring 
and I didn't think any of the talk was malicious, but I 
felt embarrassed and uncomfortable. When I was on my 
second half pint a beautiful blonde girl in a black PVC 
cat suit and sadistic-looking shiny thigh boots came 
out of the crowds, kissed me on the cheek and shouted: 
"Well done!" She turned to my boyfriend and said: 
"You're a very lucky man!" Not long afterwards a man 
came up and asked where I had bought my thigh boots. 

By this time I was feeling light-headed, as I was not 
used to drinking. We were also surrounded by smokers 
and I think some were smoking marijuana. I was getting 
quite high, and beginning to think again about what it 
would be like to have sex with a black man. I asked my 
boyfriend again whether he really meant it when he said 
he would like to watch me have sex with a black man and 
make love to me afterwards. Again he said: "Yes".

"What if it was more than one?" I asked.

"Like, how many?"

"I don't know - two, three, maybe even more."

"Well, the more the merrier."

I leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear. "What 
if I was swimming in the semen of black men - up my 
vagina, up my back passage, in my mouth...? Would you 
still want to make love to me?"

"Yes!"

"And you would still love me?"

"I would love you even more. The more men you had the 
more I would worship you."

This was incredible. "Supposing I got addicted, and 
wanted black men every night?"

"I would still love and worship you."

"What if I got pregnant?"

"Phew! Better still."

"Look into my eyes and tell me you mean it."

He did so, and then I said: "I want to be a 
prostitute."

He looked at me long and hard in complete silence. Then 
he said: "Say that again."

"I said: I want to be a prostitute."

"You're making me go weak at the knees. But I'm not 
sure I believe you."

"I mean it," I said.

"Prove it," he challenged me.

"Alright," I said. "Let's leave now, and I will pick up 
a customer on the way home."

I had no idea how much prostitutes charged, but I 
decided I would quote a figure of £100 and see if 
anyone bought it. If they did not I would lower it. If 
they appeared too eager, I would find some way of 
increasing it.

When we were within a few hundred yards of my 
boyfriend's flat, we separated. He stood by a wall at 
the corner and I walked up and down in my rubber gear 
and stiletto-heeled thigh boots. It was quite an 
expensive area, made of up of big Regency and Victorian 
houses, and there were many expensive cars parked 
there, including SUVs, BMWs, Mercedes, Volvos and so 
on. 

A few men passed me and stared at me, but despite 
turning round for a second look none approached me. 
After about ten minutes a passing SUV flashed its 
lights at me and a man leant across the passenger seat 
and opened the door. Looking up and down the street to 
make sure no one was watching.

I stepped off the curb between two parked cars and 
climbed into his SUV. He was about twenty, black, with 
corn-rolled hair and dressed in black leather trousers, 
a maroon PVC T-shirt, a black rubber coat, and dark tan 
knee-high boots with stacked heels. His car smelt of 
leather and dope and some kind of beat music was 
playing on the car radio.

As soon as I got in he noticed that I had only one arm. 
"How did that happen?"

I told him.

"Jewish, eh? A Jewish prostitute."

I was getting angry.

"I like that idea," he went on. "How much?"

I told him £150. He said it was too much - especially 
with a condom. I realised that I didn't have any 
condoms. "I'm talking about without a condom," I said. 

He looked at me in astonishment. "You're on!" he said.

He found a parking spot, lowered the middle seat and 
crawled into the back of the car, followed by me. 
Taking seven £20 notes and a £10 note out of his 
pocket, he showed them to me, and rammed them down my 
right thigh boot. He then removed my biker's jacket and 
unlaced my PVC knickers. 

He liked them. He sniffed them. He liked that too. I 
lay on my back and he lay on top of me. First he kissed 
me. While he kissed me he asked me questions. How old 
was I? Was I married? Did I have a boyfriend? Was he 
Israeli? Was he Jewish? He said: "I'm glad your 
boyfriend's white. It'll give me great pleasure to 
stretch your cunt and send you back to your pathetic 
white boyfriend with my spunk up your sore and aching 
cunt."

I wondered what he would say if he knew I was a virgin 
and not on the pill.

After a few minutes he grabbed my long black hair and 
pushed my head towards his knob. It was massive - about 
the length of my left forearm and hand and as thick as 
my ankle. A good thirty centimetres long, it was twice 
the size of my boyfriend's, which I had seen, caressed, 
kissed and sucked but not had inside me. 

Now this massive black man was going to take my 
virginity even before my boyfriend had his chance and 
possibly even make me pregnant. For a moment I was 
afraid, but now he was ramming his cock in my mouth and 
I had no time to think. Within a matter of seconds he 
spurted his semen into my mouth and over my face. 

"Swallow, bitch!" he commanded. I swallowed, and wiped 
his semen off my face with the palm of my hand and 
licked it. 

Then he lifted my rubber skirt, spread my legs apart, 
and began rubbing my clitoris and my labia. Soon one 
finger was inside me, then another. "My, oh my, you're 
tight!" he said. "Are you sure you're a whore?"

"I haven't been doing it long," I said. I wasn't going 
to tell him it was my first time. But supposing I bled? 
Would there be blood? I didn't know. I was worried.

Finally he got three fingers in, and after ramming them 
up me several times, he slowly inserted his knob. I 
cried in pain. He told me to shush. I held him tightly 
with my left arm as he pushed deeper, pulled out, 
pushed deeper and deeper, pulled out again, pushed 
deeper and deeper still, until he began to pound in and 
out really hard - so hard I thought I would burst or go 
through the back of the car. To my astonishment I began 
to buck up and down with him and I could hear myself 
screaming with pleasure. Suddenly I wasn't in the back 
of a car anymore being fucked like a whore. I was in 
paradise, in heaven. It was unbelievable. 

I was no longer 22-year-old Lital, ex-Israeli Army 
sergeant with an arm, a shoulder, two ribs and half a 
breast missing and an English boyfriend. I was a little 
glowing ball being propelled into outer space. The 
little ball was now being filled with something, 
something hot and creamy. Now I was lying on the shore, 
tossed there by a wave. I lay on my back with his penis 
still inside me, breathing heavily, my heart beating, 
my cunt glowing and tingling. He began to kiss me 
again, using his tongue like the black boy in the 
boutique. 

After a while he helped me back on with my knickers and 
jacket. He asked for my phone number. I gave him my 
boyfriend's, saying he "understood," and he gave me 
his, written on part of a cigarette packet. "I'm gonna 
tell me friends about you," he said.

I stepped unsteadily out of the car. I did not know 
what to do. I had proved that I would become a 
prostitute but now I didn't know whether to go straight 
back to my boyfriend with the money and the proof or 
walk up and down some more and see if I could attract 
some more customers. I decided it would be unfair to 
keep him waiting. But then I remembered he had promised 
he would do anything for me. "Anything" included being 
kept waiting. So let's see if he's as good at keeping 
his word, I thought. Besides he had said "the more the 
merrier"! 

So I walked up and down again and ten minutes later 
another car pulled up but the driver was white and I 
said I wasn't a prostitute but was on my way home from 
a fetish club and lived just around the corner. He 
looked embarrassed and drove off. This happened another 
two times in the next ten minutes, and after half an 
hour had passed I was about to give up when another SUV 
stopped and this time their were two black men in it.

I realised it was the same SUV and driver as before, 
and that he had come back with a friend, hoping I was 
still here. While the friend, who was also a 
Rastafarian, had sex with me in the back, my original 
client - and the man who had taken my virginity - was 
on his mobile phone to another friend, telling him of 
his amazing find. I was having my second terrific 
orgasm of the night when another car turned up with 
three more young black men inside. 

I had left the nightclub with my white boyfriend at 
just after midnight. By three-thirty in the morning I 
had sucked the cocks of five black men and been fucked 
twice each by them all. I had £750 tucked down my thigh 
boots and a hot, wet, well-stretched cunt to prove it. 
Now was the time to see whether my boyfriend would 
indeed make love to me after five black men had cum 
inside me. If he didn't, I didn't care. I knew where I 
could find sex any time I wanted it.

When I found him, he was still leaning against the 
wall. He was cold and looked tired. I decided to liven 
him up. "Smell my breath," I said, breathing on him.

"It smells of spunk," he said.

"Five massive black cocks have come in my mouth," I 
told him. "And they fucked me twice each," I added. 
"Put your hand down my thigh boot."

He slipped his left hand down my right thigh boot. The 
money rustled between his fingertips.

"There's £750 there," I told him.

I could feel his erection. "Let's go back to my place," 
he said.

On the way there I asked him: "Don't you feel 
humiliated that five black men have fucked me ten 
times, in clothes that you bought for me, when you 
haven't even made love to me yourself yet?"

"Yes, in a way I do," he admitted. "But I'm turned on 
by you being spoiled - you know, damaged goods. I've 
wrapped you up in all this packaging, and others have 
unwrapped you and tasted the fruit first. The more men 
who taste you first, the more it excites me, and the 
more I love you. I can't help it."

When we got back to his flat he ravaged me with a 
passion I did not know was possible. He deep tongued me 
like he was searching for every last drop of the black 
men's spunk inside my mouth. After removing my PVC 
knickers he sniffed them and licked the spunk off the 
lining. 

He then licked all the congealing spunk off my pubic 
hairs and then out of my cunt. Then he dropped his 
trousers and underpants, and his fifteen-centimetre 
pink willy looked pathetically small compared to those 
of my five black clients! When he entered me I could 
hardly feel a thing - only the squidgy sensation of 
other men's spunk making way for his prick gave away 
its presence. 

My black virginity-busting Rastafarian client with a 
cock thirty-plus centimetres in length and twenty-six 
centimetres in circumference had been right: my cunt 
was now too big to be satisfied by my boyfriend's small 
cock. But that knowledge alone excited me. I had what 
must have been my eleventh or twelfth massive orgasm 
that night, not because of my boyfriend's prowess, but 
because he had been humiliated by having to make love 
to woman who had been dressed up by him and then broken 
in by others.

He hadn't taken my virginity - instead it had been 
taken by a well-endowed black man and his four mates. 
He had never taken me while my cunt was still pure and 
tight. Black men had done that for him, and stretched 
it so that his prick would never be able to touch the 
sides. I was now only good for black men. I wondered 
what my parents would think if they knew.

When I came to see my boyfriend the following evening 
at 7.30, he asked me if I would like to move in with 
him. He begged me not to return to Israel, but to move 
in with him and, if it worked out, to marry him. I let 
him do some more begging, and the told him I would move 
in with him, and perhaps marry him, but only under 
certain conditions. 

The first was that I wanted to become a full-time 
prostitute. This would mean having customers all day 
while he was at work and perhaps during the evenings as 
well. Second, I could have as many lovers as I wanted, 
when I wanted and where I wanted. If we were at a 
nightclub and a black man picked me up and wanted to 
take me back to his place, or even fuck me in the 
toilets or the back of his car, I would go with him. 
Thirdly, my boyfriend could only make love to me after 
I had been fucked by black men. 

He agreed to all these conditions. Then I said: 
"There's something else." 

I then told him what else I wanted. Whenever I asked, 
he was to dress up as a woman, in the same kind of 
clothes and boots that he had bought for me, and suck 
the cocks of my black lovers. He was also to come to 
nightclubs with me, again dressed as a woman, and if 
black guys chatted him up he was to play along until 
they found out he was really a man, and then take 
whatever consequences they dished out. 

He agreed to these conditions, too. I then said that if 
and when we married, I was to go out the night before 
and get fucked by as many black men as possible, and 
arrive at the wedding without getting cleaned up. Black 
men would be invited to the reception and I would dance 
with them and kiss them in front of everybody else. On 
our wedding night he would be the last man to make love 
to me: black men would take his bride first. The same 
would apply on our honeymoon.

Again, he agreed. Then I dropped the real bombshells. 
He had a spare room in his flat that he used as a 
library-cum-study. He was to move everything out of 
that room, decorate it, furnish it as a bedroom, and 
then rent it out to a young black stud who I would take 
as a regular lover. This black stud could fuck me 
whenever he wanted.

When my boyfriend took me out, even to visit friends, 
our black lodger was to come with us so that everyone 
knew he was my lover and that my boyfriend (or husband-
to-be) was a cuckold. Finally, if I became pregnant by 
a black man, I would have the baby and he would bring 
it up as if it was his own. If the baby turned out to 
be his own, we would bring it up to worship black cock, 
whether it was male or female.

Again, he agreed. So I told him that when I returned to 
my aunt's this evening, I would tell her I was moving 
out. In the meantime, I told him to choose an outfit 
for me, as I was going to spend the next two or three 
hours prowling for clients. He chose the mini-dress 
with jungle camouflage pattern, the lace-up black 
leather boots and, again, the black leather biker's 
jacket. I made myself up and left. During the next two 
and a half hours I had five clients, all black, 
including my virginity buster of the night before, who 
appeared at about ten o'clock. Then I went back to my 
boyfriend's flat and allowed him to make love to me.

When I returned to my aunt's (dressed in my normal 
clothes) I told her I was moving in with my English 
boyfriend and that we might get married. She flew into 
a rage. She knew he wasn't Jewish. My parents were sure 
to find out and they would blame her. I suggested she 
lie to them and claim that my boyfriend was Jewish - it 
would best for all of us. Finally she agreed, and the 
following evening I packed my hold-all and went to live 
with my boyfriend. I knew my parents would fly in and 
confront us eventually, but I was not going to let that 
worry me now.

Every night for the next week my boyfriend painted and 
furnished the spare room while I went out and picked up 
clients. Before I went out he would dress me and I 
would let him masturbate over my boots and then lick 
his own spunk off, and when I came back, sometimes as 
late as two or three in the morning, I would wake him 
up and make him lick my cunt clean. But that was the 
nearest he got to having sex with me until the day he 
finished with the spare room. By then I had had twenty-
eight clients, all of them black and all of them 
"bareback". 

On his next Saturday off we sat together and composed 
an advertisement to put in the window of the local 
newsagent and on the notice-board of the supermarket. 
It read:

WHITE COUPLE SEEK LODGER
YOUNG BLACK SINGLE MALES ONLY
CALL LITAL ON: -----

Wearing my black rubber mini-dress, black rubber riding 
boots, my black PVC biker-style jacket and no 
underwear, I made my boyfriend come with me to put up 
the notices. The newsagent, an Asian, gave us a funny 
look. He knew exactly what was going on. I was pleased. 
Soon everyone would know that my English boyfriend was 
being cuckolded by a black-cock-loving whore.

When we got back home, he again asked me to marry him. 
I had already decided I would marry him, whatever my 
parents said, but first I wanted to assert more power 
over him. I had learned martial arts in the Israeli 
Defence Force, and could still use it even with one 
arm. Without warning I grabbed him by his left arm, 
turned round and threw him over my shoulder so that he 
landed on his back on the floor with a thud. I then 
stamped on his balls until he cried out in pain and 
begged me to stop. 

"On your knees!" I shouted to him. "Kneel in front of 
me!" 

Once he was on his knees I kicked him in the face and 
shouted: "Lick my boots, you bastard, lick my boots!" 
He did as he was told, lovingly and longingly kissing, 
licking and sucking every centimetre of both boots, and 
every now and then I would kick him in the face, or in 
the chest or in the balls or stamp on his hands. 

Finally he announced that he was going to cum, and I 
paused while he fumbled with his flies. With his dick 
out, he spurted his spunk over one of my boots. "Now 
lick it off, you worm!" I demanded. I watched as he 
licked the spunk off my boot and then he began to kiss, 
lick and suck them again.

Then I had another idea. "Crawl to the bathroom on your 
hands and knees!" I ordered. As he crawled, I kicked 
him several times so that he fell over and had to pick 
himself up. When he reached the bathroom I ordered him 
to strip off. "Now lay on your back!" He did as I told 
him. Then I told him to open his mouth and I squatted 
over his face and pissed myself. "Go on: swallow every 
drop!"

Again, he did as he was bid, and after that I sucked 
his cock. When he came in my mouth I deliberately 
didn't swallow it. I mixed it with my saliva and then, 
grabbing him by the hair, spat in his face, several 
times, until there was hardly a drop of moisture 
remaining in my mouth. I watched it dribble down his 
nose and cheeks, and catch in the stubble on his upper 
lip and chin. "The next time I have spunk in my mouth, 
it will be a black man's, and you'll swallow it," I 
said. He then grabbed the back of my head, pulled me 
toward him and kissed me passionately. 

"Please, will you marry me?" he begged. 

Finally I agreed, but demanded that he buy me an 
engagement ring on Monday evening, after which we would 
celebrate by picking up some black men to fuck me while 
he watched.

It wasn't long before we started receiving phone calls 
in response to our adverts. The first came that night 
as we were preparing for bed, and I answered. I could 
tell by his voice that the caller was a black man, but 
he sounded uncertain, as if he wasn't sure whether the 
advert was for real. 

Sensing his doubt, I assured him that the advert was 
genuine and made an appointment for him to come at 9.30 
the following morning. We had two more calls after 
that, and arranged for them to arrive at 10.30 and 
11.30. These callers, too, sounded doubtful. It 
remained to be seen whether any of the three would turn 
up.

Their curiosity obviously got the better of them, as 
turn up they did. By the time the doorbell rang at 9.30 
my fiancé had already dressed me in my black rubber 
zip-up top, black rubber mini-skirt, red PVC jacket and 
stiletto heeled thigh-boots, and I had made myself up. 
While my fiancé went downstairs to open the door, I sat 
on the couch and waited. 

About ninety seconds later he was back, followed by a 
tall, thin black youth with a narrow moustache and long 
plaited hair. He was wearing a white T-shirt and jacket 
and trousers of black shiny nylon that made a swishing 
sound as he crossed the floor towards me. On his feet 
had had soft black leather lace-up boots, similar to 
those wrestlers wear. 

I stood up and we introduced ourselves. He told me he 
was eighteen years old. Good. I liked them young. I 
showed him the spare room. He looked it up and down, 
making approving noises. Then I led him to the main 
bedroom, saying: "...But most nights you would sleep 
here. Go in." He stepped inside. "This is our bedroom," 
I went on, "where we sleep." Would he cotton on? He 
smiled. "I will need to test you," I said.

I held out my left hand. He took it and I led him 
towards the bed. "Now I am in your hands," I said. My 
cunt was wet. My heart was beating fast. I thought I 
would burst. For the first time, I was about to be 
fucked by a black man in front of my fiancé. How would 
he react? Would the black guy be any good?

He unzipped my jacket, opened it and then noticed I had 
no right shoulder and hardly any right breast. His eyes 
opened wide and his jaw dropped. "I could see you had 
one arm, but..." 

"Does it put you off?" I asked.

"No. No. How did it happen?"

I told him. 

"Wicked," he said.

He pushed me onto the bed, climbed on top of me and, 
held me tight and began kissing me, his left hand 
rubbing the remains of my shoulder and breast. "This is 
sexy," he said between kisses "and you're such a good 
looking chick, too!"

He prised my mouth open wide with his lips and tongue, 
biting my lips and tongue as he did so. My fiancé lay 
on the bed beside us, and I pulled back and kissed him, 
then returned to letting the black guy kiss me. I could 
feel his cock rock-hard against me. "Fuck me," I begged 
him. "Go on, please fuck me. Fuck my cunt with your 
black cock, right in front of my fiancé. I want you to 
cum inside me."

Undoing his trousers, he pulled them down to his knees. 
He wore no underpants, and with nothing to stop it his 
rock-hard cock sprung out at me. It was long and thick 
and shiny. "Wow!" I said. I parted my legs wider, and 
without hesitating he rammed it up my cunt, which 
willingly opened wide to take it. Alternating between 
kissing him and my fiancé, I moved in unison with his 
pumping thighs, one hand holding onto his arse. It was 
covered in tiny curly hairs and the skin had the 
texture of sandpaper. 

Within three minutes he arched his back, furiously 
rammed his cock deep into my trembling body and started 
screaming. I too started to scream. Then together we 
came. The orgasm seemed to last for ever. It was 
massive. I thought the bed would break or go through 
the wall. When the orgasm finally subsiding he lay on 
top of me breathing heavily while I just lay trembling 
like a leaf and having little spasms. After a while he 
turned to my fiancé, rolled off me, and said: "Well?"

My fiancé crawled between my legs and licked, nibbled 
and sucked my wet swollen cunt, slurping up the black 
guy's spunk. While he was doing this, the black guy 
slid up the bed and put his cock in my mouth. Holding 
onto it with one hand, I licked and sucked. It was 
difficult to concentrate because my fiancé slurping 
away at my cunt made me want to orgasm again. I was 
making little whimpering noises as the black guy 
literally fucked my face. 

Suddenly, he filled my mouth with his ammonia-smelling 
creamy spunk, my fiancé spunked over my left boot and I 
had another terrific orgasm, almost choking on semen as 
I did so. I was trying not to swallow it, as I wanted 
my fiancé to drink it out of my mouth. As my only arm 
was wrapped around the black guy's thighs, I attracted 
his attention by making urgent sounding noises and a 
kissing expression with my lips. 

He crawled up my body and opened his mouth to kiss me. 
My lips met his and then I spat the black guy's spunk 
into his mouth. His eyes met mine and opened wide. 
"Swallow!" ordered the black guy. My fiancé swallowed. 
I spat more into his mouth. He swallowed again. Some 
had dripped down my chin. "Lick it off," I told him. He 
licked it off and swallowed that as well. 

Afterwards the black guy fucked me again. This time he 
took by doggy style while my fiancé was underneath me 
with his little white willy in my mouth. Both men came 
at roughly the same time and I came again soon 
afterwards. Again my fiancé licked me clean, but I then 
made him suck the black guy's cock. To my surprise and 
delight, he came a fourth time, right in my fiancé's 
mouth! It was terrific! "Swallow it you fucking 
bastard," I demanded - and he did! 

Before leaving the black guy asked me if he has passed 
the test. I said he had, but that I had several other 
candidates to that day, but that if he gave me his 
phone number I would ring him to let him know. He then 
asked if he could let his friends in on it. I said yes, 
but that they must phone first. 

He left about five minutes before the next black youth 
came, and the pattern of "testing" one black guy an 
hour carried on for the rest of the day, with my fiancé 
getting up every time the phone rang to make 
appointments. By 6.30 I had been fucked in all three 
holes by nine black guys, all aged between eighteen and 
twenty-six, but my six-thirty appointment brought a 
friend with him. 

One took me doggy-style while I sucked the other's 
cock, and when they had both spunked inside me my 
fiancé cleaned all of us up and then they swapped 
places. My 7.30 appointment brought two friends with 
him, and men continued to arrive in threes until 11.30. 

As the night wore on the men were getting rougher and 
more aggressive, the sex becoming more on more violent 
and them calling me "whore," "ho," "slut" and "bitch". 
The last three, who together brought the number of 
black guys I had fucked that day up to twenty-six, 
started to slap me, spit in my face and punch me, but 
after using my martial arts skills to throw one of them 
over my shoulder and kick another in the chest, much to 
their surprise, they calmed down. But while they were 
three-way fucking me I made a deal with them - that if 
they still felt like being aggressive I would help them 
beat up my fiancé. This idea pleased them immensely.

After he had cleaned us all up and the three black guys 
looked as if they were ready to leave, I grabbed my 
fiancé by the arm and threw him over my shoulder. He 
landed with his back on the floor and, still holding 
his arm, I turned and stamped on his balls, inviting 
the black guys to come over and kick him. One stood 
next to me and the other two stood the other side, and 
together we started kicking him in the face and body 
and stamping on him. "Harder! Harder!" I shouted to 
them, laughing. "Show this bastard who is boss!"

While they kicked him I forced the stiletto heel of one 
of my thigh boots into his mouth and made him suck it, 
and a few seconds later, as he caressed my boot and 
licked my heel, he started to writhe, not in agony but 
in pleasure, and a wet stain appeared on the front of 
his trousers.

The three black guys then gobbed in his face and I gave 
them all a passionate kiss goodbye, telling them that 
even if they didn't pass the test to become our lodger, 
I would keep in touch. My fiancé had taken the names 
and phone numbers of all the candidates and I had given 
them five-star ratings - one for youth, another for 
height, another for looks, another for cock-size and a 
fifth for sexual prowess. 

The youngest, tallest, and best looking with the 
thickest cock and the greatest sexual adventurousness 
received the most stars. I also awarded a bonus star 
for whoever dressed in the sexiest clothes - such as 
tight trousers showing off a nice arse and well-packed 
lunchbox. 

However, there was so far no clear winner, but more 
candidates followed throughout the week, during the day 
while my fiancé was at work and during the evening 
while he was at home. I tested at least twenty-five a 
day for three days in a row, but as the weekend 
approached the number of new candidates fell to about 
fifteen a day and the originals started coming back for 
second and third helpings. It was time to make a 
decision. 

Out of more than 130 black guys I drew up a shortlist 
of twenty-five and on the Saturday invited them back in 
groups of five to gangbang me in front of my fiancé. I 
figured that if they were prepared to gangbang me in 
front of him, and he had no qualms about it, I might as 
well enjoy the attention! As it happened, the first 
five did not want to leave when the second five 
arrived, so that there were ten men taking turns with 
me. 

The same happened with the next lot and the next, 
although as the day wore on some guys dropped out, 
having run out of stamina. By early evening, when the 
last five arrived, there were still fifteen guys with 
enough energy for yet another fuck. By midnight several 
more had dropped out, but in addition to the last five 
there were still nine who had arrived during the 
morning who were up for more. 

I had therefore narrowed it down to nine, which meant 
there were still eight to weed out. So I decided to 
submit them to a verbal test to see what sort of things 
they would do to excite me and humiliate my fiancé. All 
nine said they would pimp me to their black mates and 
to black clients; make sure I dressed like a whore, 
buying the outfits with my fiancé's money; go with me 
and my fiancé whenever we went out and kiss and grope 
me in front of everybody so that all knew he was a 
cuckold.

I was a black man's whore; ban me from wearing knickers 
and bras; invite friends round to share our bed at 
nights and fuck me all night long; pierce my face, 
lips, nose, ears, nipples, belly-button, clit and piss-
flaps; make me have tattoos and wear jewellery that 
signalled that I was a cuckolding wife and a "BMW"; 
repeatedly get me black preggo and make my fiancé bring 
the children up as if they his; stretch my cunt until 
no tiny-willied white man could use it; dress my fiancé 
as a woman and make him visit black bars and watch as 
he was gang-fucked from behind and made to suck black 
cock; dress him as a chambermaid or a waitress indoors 
and make him wait on us, suck black dick and lick my 
fanny clean of black men's "jism"; make him lick their 
arses clean as well as mine (I liked the idea of him 
licking clean a black man's arse). 

During this quiz one of the men left, but half an hour 
later he returned, bringing with him a massive black 
Great Dane. He grabbed me by the hair and made me kneel 
down in front of the dog and start sucking its cock. It 
was long, stiff and very red and sticky with a bulbous 
head, having more raw flesh and less skin than a man's 
penis. It also tasted different - more meaty and fatty. 
The dog was howling with delight and I could tell he 
wanted to mount me. 

I turned round and knelt in front of the couch. Two 
black guys helped the dog climb onto me. I felt his 
hard paws around my neck and against my chest, then my 
legs being parted by two pairs of hands and the head of 
the Great Dane's mighty cock almost splitting my cunt 
as one of the black guys guided it in and another began 
pushing the dog from behind. 

Soon the dog found its own rhythm -quick and frenzied 
and, for me, painful and enjoyable at the same time. I 
was being well and truly fucked doggy-style by a 
massive, well-hung Great Dane in front of my fiancé and 
nine black guys! All the men were standing around me 
and the dog, wanking like hell. I started to scream, 
the dog started howling louder. I could feel its hot 
breath and its wet tongue on my neck. It started to 
dribble down my neck and back. Then, in its excitement, 
it began licking my right ear! 

This really excited me! My whole body went stiff, and 
the dog also began to go stiff and yelp - it was 
obviously about to ejaculate. Suddenly it happened - he 
let out a bloody great howl, rammed his cock right up 
me and stayed there, spurting deep inside me. 

I came, too, convulsing all over the place. Then I fell 
forward onto the couch and the dog collapsed on top of 
me. His penis was still inside me. I noticed then that 
there was spunk dripping down my face and my back and 
spattered on my thigh boots - all the men around me, 
including my fiancé, had cum over me while the dog had 
been fucking me.

Carefully they pulled the dog off. I realised my chest 
was hurting and inspected myself - my front was covered 
in scratches and bruises. The scar across what was left 
of my right breast was open slightly and bleeding. My 
fiancé asked me if I was alright. "Get down there and 
lick out my cunt, you bastard!" I demanded. He 
stretched himself out on the floor and began to lick me 
clean - lick me clean of a Great Dane's cum! What a 
pathetic whimp! What a worm! 

I looked up at the black guy who had brought the Great 
Dane with him. His name was Darren. He was under 
twenty, over two metres tall, very black, with short 
hair styled like a Rasta and a beautiful shiny torso 
under a tight-fighting string vest and a big thick cock 
bulging beneath tight red PVC trousers. 

His legs, clad in lace-up wrestling boots up to the 
knee, were long and muscular. He was my man. He would 
by my lodger and my lover. "Kiss me," I said. While my 
fiancé was still licking out my hot wet cunt, Darren 
knelt beside me, took me in his arms, and began to 
lovingly, longingly French kiss me. 

"When can you move in?" I asked him after a while.

"I've already moved in," he said. "I'll stay the night, 
and bring my gear over tomorrow. But I tell you one 
thing," he added. "There's no way I sleep in that pokey 
little room. I sleep with you - every night."

"Done," I said.    

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 42