("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
                     `6_ 6  )   `-.  (     ).`-.__.`)
                     (_Y_.)'  ._   )  `._ `. ``-..-'
                    _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
                   ((('   (((-(((''  ((((
                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
		_________________________________________
		                WARNING!
		This text file contains sexually explicit
		material. If you do not wish to read this
		type of literature, or you are under age,
		PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
		_________________________________________




			Scroll down to view text


















--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2013.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  All rights reserved. Thank you for your 
consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------

Alison Baker's Defilement
by Carol Collins (carol__collins@hotmail.com)

***

Two women driving home from the airport have a 
breakdown on the freeway and are "rescued" by a group 
of black basketball players, starting off a weeklong 
sexual binge for the two friends. (M+/FF, nc, bi, 
wife, intr, piercings, tattoos) 

***

Nick Baker held all the cards in this lawsuit. In his 
early thirties, he was a rising star in the judicial 
system of the Big Apple. Across the table from him, 
Graham Gray sat with a worried look on his face. He 
was an old acquaintance and the attorney for the 
opposing side in the case. They had to travel to the 
state capitol for today's deposition, and probably 
would not be able to return home until Sunday morning, 
but everything was working out just great. 

The settlement in this case would involve millions of 
dollars. Nick's fees and prestige from winning this 
case would boost his financial situation and career 
opportunities. He couldn't help but smile very smugly 
at Graham as the other attorney desperately pleaded 
his weak case. Yes, for Nick Baker, life looked pretty 
good.

*

Alison Baker stepped out of the shower and patted her 
tall shapely twenty-five year old body dry with the 
large soft bath towel. She momentarily gazed at her 
reflection in the large bathroom mirrors as she 
finished drying the droplets of water from her 
beautiful body. Her shoulder length brown hair was 
pinned up on top of her head to keep it from getting 
wet during her quick shower. 

Her eyes were colored like a doe's; large brown pools 
that shown brightly when she became excited. Her full 
lips held out the promise of soft kisses and long 
nights of passion. Her face was one of beauty. Her 
skin was smooth, soft and white as alabaster. Her 
large breasts were a source of both pride and 
embarrassment. 

When she was a teenager, her breasts were the largest 
in her class at school. She found it embarrassing 
that, when boys would carry on a conversation with 
her, that they almost never looked her in the eye. 
They had been to busy staring at her enormous boobs. 
The fact that she was taller most of the boys and that 
her boobs ended up being right in their faces had only 
added to her embarrassment. No wonder Alison was still 
shy around men.

Alison removed the pins from her hair and shook her 
head a couple of times before picking up a brush and 
stroking it through her golden mane to remove any 
tangles. She was standing in front of the bathroom 
mirror in the nude. Since she was about six-foot tall 
in her bare feet, her brown pubic bush was visible in 
the mirror. 

Alison had always been self-conscious of her body, so 
she laid the brush down and went into the bedroom to 
get dressed as soon as she was sure that her hair was 
laying properly. If a stranger had been able to see 
into the Baker apartment, they would have appreciated 
the brunette's beautiful long legs and shapely bottom. 
Her body was a sex machine that she had never allowed 
to be used to its full potential. She did not know it, 
but that was a situation that was about to change.

Alison opened a dresser drawer and selected her 
lingerie. Plain white silk panties, matching brassiere 
and a pair of black pantyhose. She slipped the silk 
garments on with practiced ease. A tastefully stylish 
black dress and matching low heel shoes completed her 
ensemble. 

Being slightly taller than her husband, she rarely 
wore high heel shoes. She applied a little eye makeup, 
put on a light coating of lip-gloss, hooked a gold 
chain with her St. Christopher pendant around her neck 
and threaded a pair of gold earrings through her 
earlobes to match her wedding rings. Alison picked up 
her purse, turned out the light in the bedroom and 
went down the stairs to the living room.

She made a last minute visual check of everything in 
the living room just to make sure that everything was 
in its proper place, before she turned out that light, 
went out the front door and locked it. Alison pulled 
her blue convertible out onto the parkway to drive to 
the airport. Since her husband was out of town, she 
had invited Clare Collins to visit her from Los 
Angeles.

Clare and Nick did not get along very well, so this 
was a great opportunity for the two friends to get 
together since Nick would not be there. The problem 
was that Clare's flight did not arrive until after 
midnight. At least it was Friday night and Clare would 
not have to return to California until the next 
weekend. This weekend would be like old times for the 
two friends.

When Alison arrived at the airport, she found out that 
the flight had been delayed and she had to kill almost 
an hour and a half. Though Alison rarely drank, there 
was a seedy looking man that was following her around 
and giving her the eye, she went into the first open 
doorway, which was airport lounge. The bartender asked 
her, "What is your pleasure?" 

She started to tell him that she didn't want anything 
to drink, but decided that she would try a margarita. 
She sipped on the delicious drink as she thought about 
the friendship that she and Clare had shared, until 
twenty minutes later when her glass was empty. 

Alison was thinking of leaving the lounge. The 
television monitor with the schedules of arrivals and 
departures showed that she still had almost an hour to 
kill. That, plus the fact that the weird little man 
that had been following her, was still standing around 
outside the bar, caused her to stay and order another 
margarita when the bartender asked if she wanted a 
refill.

Alison realized that she should not have had the 
second margarita as she walked toward the gate where 
Clare was to disembark from her plane. Alison was just 
a little tipsy. Clare was one of the last to come out 
the gate. She was dressed in a red mini dress that 
emphasized her slim and attractive figure. She wore 
dark stockings and high heel shoes, as well. 

The tall thin blonde was still just as beautiful as 
when she was a teenager. Clare had sampled several of 
the airline's daiquiris on the flight. She was feeling 
the effect of her mixed drinks even more than Alison 
did. They hugged and kissed each other on the cheek. 

Twenty minutes later, they had Clare's baggage and 
were leaving the airport. Perhaps, if Alison had been 
paying better attention to the roadway, instead of 
trying to listen so intently to Clare's stories, she 
would have seen the piece of jagged metal lying in the 
road before it was too late.

Alison's car lurched and the engine stopped almost 
immediately. The metal in the road had ripped open the 
oil pain on the blue convertible. Alison barely 
managed to get the car onto the side of the road 
before it came rolling to a halt. She switched off the 
ignition as she and Clare looked at each other. 

Of all the places for the car to break down, it had to 
be when the expressway passed through the worst part 
of town. Alison timidly got out of the car to take a 
quick look at the oil spill that marked the path that 
the car had traveled since it had hit the jagged metal 
bar. She got back in the car and locked the doors.

Alison looked at Clare, smiled and said, "Don't worry, 
Nick gave me a cellular phone for just such 
emergencies." She pulled her phone from her purse and 
tried to turn it on. Her smile disappeared. "Of all 
the times to have a dead battery!" She cried as she 
shoved the phone back into her purse. Clare had left 
her phone back in Los Angeles. Now, she wished that 
she had brought it with her.

A bus pulled over just a hundred feet or so ahead of 
them. A man in a gray uniform shirt and pants came 
back to their car. He was white, in his forties, had 
black hair and a friendly smile. Alison rolled down 
her window a couple of inches as he came around to the 
driver's side of her car. "Good evening, Ladies. I saw 
the oil in the road and noticed that you were out here 
alone. It's after two o'clock in the morning and you 
are not safe in this area. May I offer the two of you 
a lift?" 

Alison was reluctant to leave the safety of her car 
until he told her, "You realize that a convertible has 
a tent for a roof. It anyone wants inside, all they 
have to do is cut a hole in the top with a knife." 
Alison and Clare looked at each other for a few 
seconds before they both decided to take the nice 
man's offer.

Alison got her purse and locked the doors of her car. 
They would call a tow truck as soon as they reached a 
telephone. The man, who introduced himself as Smithy, 
carried Clare's bags as they walked toward the bus. 
Just as they were about to board the bus, Alison 
noticed that it had the name of a professional 
basketball team painted on the side. She didn't think 
much about what the name indicated until she had 
boarded the bus and saw who the other occupants were. 
The bus was full of very famous basketball athletes. 
And, they were all black.

Alison felt very uncomfortable. She would have turned 
around and left the bus if it weren't for the fact 
that she was worried that two women, alone on the 
expressway, at this time of night, may as well have a 
target painted on them. "Besides," she assured 
herself, "she and Clare could depend on Smithy for 
protection." Two of the players moved over to leave 
one seat next to each empty. 

Clare sat down next to one of the tall basketball 
players and smiled prettily at him. Alison meekly sat 
next to the other player. Smithy sat down in the 
driver's seat, closed the bus's door, turned off the 
interior lights, put the bus in gear and pulled back 
out onto the nearly deserted expressway.

Alison could see that Clare had already started a 
conversation with her seatmate. Alison glanced 
sideways at the very tall black man that had shared 
his seat with her. In the darkened interior of the 
bus, details were hard to make out, but she could tell 
that he was rather handsome. Alison had always been 
taller than the average person. She was even taller 
than her own husband was. Sitting beside the famous 
basketball player made her feel small. She was already 
at a disadvantage because of having the two drinks 
earlier and her auto breaking down. Now, she felt a 
little physical intimidation because of the tall black 
man's sheer size. 

Alison almost jumped when the man beside her placed 
his large black hand on her thigh. She looked directly 
at him for the first time. "How dare he!" She thought 
to herself as she reached down and pushed his very 
large hand from her leg. She looked around to see if 
there was another seat that she could move to. 

Unfortunately, all the other seats appeared to be used 
by the sleeping players as they stretched out on them. 
Alison did not want to ask to be let off the bus. The 
area that the bus was traveling through still was not 
safe for two women to be stranded in at this time of 
night.

Alison looked over at Clare. Perhaps she could come up 
with a solution to their problem? What she saw shocked 
her. It was hard to make out the details, but it 
appeared that Clare and the much taller black 
basketball player beside her were engaged in an 
intimate whispered conversation. 

Alison could not hear them, but could tell that Clare 
was enjoying herself from the soft sounds of laughter 
that her blonde friend made as the black man whispered 
in her ear. The black hand moved on Clare's thigh 
cataching Alison's eye. Alison's heart almost stopped 
beating for a moment when she saw the man beside Clare 
lean down to kiss her blonde friend with his large 
soft lips.

Alison had not been raised to be racially prejudiced, 
but seeing her best friend willingly returning the 
kiss of a tall black man that was a virtual stranger 
to her, caused her heart to beat a little faster. The 
streetlights along the expressway illuminated the 
movements of the stranger's large black hand as it 
moved up and down the thin blonde's thigh. Alison 
could not believe her eyes as she saw Clare parting 
her thighs to let the roving hand have access to her 
feminine treasures. Hearing Clare moaning was a good 
indication of where the hand had went after it had 
disappeared under her skirt.

Alison pressed her thighs together in an effort to 
suppress the tingling sensations that were emanating 
from her stiffening clitoris. She had always been 
embarrassed when her body reacted to sexual 
situations. Alison had always tried to maintain 
control and was not comfortable with her body's 
reactions to sensual stimuli. 

When she felt the return of the large hand on her own 
thigh, Alison wanted to remove it again, but sat 
motionless. It felt as if she didn't have the strength 
to lift her arms or legs as her hormonal levels 
reacted to the image of Clare eagerly kissing the tall 
black man across the aisle and the hand that was now 
massaging her own nylon covered thigh. She could not 
even make herself turn away from the scene that was 
taking place only a few feet from where she sat.

Clare had spread her legs even more for the long thin 
questing fingers. Clare was not wearing pantyhose. She 
had told Alison that most men did not find pantyhose 
to be sexy. Clare was wearing black stockings and a 
garter belt. Her light skin made quite a contrast to 
the black nylon of her hose and the large black hand 
that had moved between her legs and was massaging her 
vagina through her red panties. 

Alison fascinated, watched as the basketball player's 
other hand slowly unzipped the back of the pretty 
blonde's red dress. The back strap of a red brassiere 
could be seen as the dress parted. Clare didn't seem 
to mind the fact that a large black man was undressing 
her on a crowded bus as the dress slipped forward on 
her shoulders. Clare had broken away from the kiss. 

Alison hoped that she would call a halt to what the 
ball player was doing to her so that they could stop 
the bus and get off, but, instead, Clare laid her head 
against the headrest and closed her eyes. Her seatmate 
wasted little in unhooking Clare's red brassiere. 

Alison had not seen Clare's breasts since high school 
gym class. Although relatively small, at least 
compared to Alison's D cup breasts, they stood almost 
straight out and had long thick nipples. Clare made a 
gasping sound as the man's thick lips encircled a 
nipple and began sucking on it.

Although Alison had been motionless as she had watched 
her friend being seduced by the tall black basketball 
player, her seat companion had been busy. Alison had 
held her legs together very tightly as he had moved 
his catcher's mitt sized hand up and down her 
quivering thigh. Alison tried to ignore the hand and 
the sensations that were rippling through her 
beautiful body in the hopes that they would all go 
away. 

The hand moved up and down her leg, moving farther 
north each time, until it was almost completely under 
the hem of her designer black dress. Alison's clitoris 
was now tingling far too much to ignore. She shifted 
in her seat, in a half-hearted effort to move away 
from the exploring black hand, only to find that she 
had actually opened herself up to him even more.

Across the aisle, Alison could see that the man had 
shifted his big lips to Clare's other breast. The 
nipples, that had just been in his mouth, shone wetly 
in the dim light and was swollen to over twice its 
original size. One of the black man's hands was almost 
buried under the red dress that was draped across the 
writhing blonde's lap. Her red brassiere lay in the 
aisle on the floor, forgotten.

Alison's attention was brought back to her own body as 
she felt the hand under her dress reach the top of her 
leg. A finger was rubbing the crotch of her pantyhose 
as the hand rested on her upper thigh. Alison tried to 
clamp her thighs together to prevent such intimate 
contact, but only succeeded in trapping the finger 
against her sensitive mound. He immediately began to 
wiggle his finger against the moistening crotch of her 
panties and pantyhose. 

She experienced what felt to be a maddening itch that 
she knew could only be scratched by a man. And, the 
only man currently available was not her husband. 
Instead, it was a seven-foot tall black man with skin 
so dark; she could barely make out his facial features 
on the dimly lit bus.

Clare's cry of delight caused Alison to turn her head 
toward the couple across the way. The tall black 
basketball player next to Clare had stood up and his 
elastic waistband jogging pants was down around his 
ankles. Standing out in front of him was what appeared 
to be the radiator hose from her car. It was at least 
ten inches long and more than two inches thick. 

Clare's eyes were shining in the dark as she took hold 
of the awesome black pole with both hands and stroked 
up and down a few times. "It's magnificent!" She 
whispered just before she leaned forward and took the 
head into her wide-open mouth.

The man next to Alison had managed to turn his hand to 
cover her mound and was now vigorously massaging her 
sensitive clitoris. Alison pushed back into the 
seatback as waves of miniature orgasms passed through 
her body. She was unable to protest as a dark face 
descended onto hers and thick lips muffled her moans. 

She tried to push the molesting hand from between her 
legs, but were ineffectual. The longest tongue Alison 
had ever encountered snaked into her mouth and probed 
every recess of her oral cavity. She hardly even 
noticed as his other hand massaged her D cup breasts. 
Soon, the sensations were so over powering, Alison 
reluctantly surrendered to them.

At first, Alison had simply sat there, with her arms 
at her sides, as the back of her dress was unzipped 
and pulled down in front. When her white silk 
brassiere was unhooked and removed, letting her large 
sensitive breasts bobble in the cool air. A pair of 
thick suctioning lips was attached to her sensitive 
nipples; she began a series of climaxes. She was 
barely aware of when he had pulled the hem of her 
dress up and slipped his hand down the front of her 
pantyhose and panties. She was very aware of when his 
fingers began direct manipulation of her clitoris and 
began sinking so very deep into her moist slit.

If poor Alison had not had those two margaritas to 
drink, she might not have ended up in this situation. 
Just having watched the road more closely, would have 
prevented this from happening. She lay back against 
the seat with her eyes looking down at the face of the 
very tall black man that was sucking her nipples and 
driving her into a state of uncontrollable sexual 
heat. 

A cry from across the aisle caused Alison to look. 
Clare, now dressed in only her garter belt and nylon 
stockings, was straddling the basketball player's huge 
cock as he sat in his seat. Almost half of the black 
pole had disappeared inside of her friend's belly. 

Alison could not believe such a huge tool could 
possibly fit inside of Clare's little vagina. Large 
black hands gripped the pretty blonde's narrow waist 
and pulled her all the way down on the huge ebony 
shaft. Clare wiggled about like a bug stuck on a pin 
as she came.

The athlete working on Alison pulled her pantyhose and 
panties down and off in one smooth motion. She was 
left sitting with her smooth bottom on the rough 
fabric of the bus seat and her expensive designer 
black dress wrapped around her waist. She wanted to 
resist as her legs were pushed open, but the seven-
foot basketball player was too strong for her to stop 
now. He knelt on the floor in front of her and buried 
his head between her legs. 

She noticed that his long thick tongue was the size of 
an ex-boyfriend's cock as it penetrated her wet slit. 
Try as she might to end the sequence of events, Alison 
was powerless to stop them. When the thick lips 
wrapped around her clitoris, she lost any interest in 
halting the sexual sensations she was now feeling as 
wave after wave of climaxes passed through her.

Alison was brought to several major orgasms before the 
seven-foot giant rose up, slipped down his jogging 
pants and unleashed his gigantic black cock. At first, 
Alison thought that he held a section of fire hose in 
his hands. Then, she realized that the massive piece 
of dark meat was for real. Never in her relatively 
short life had she even imagined that a penis could 
become so huge. It was even bigger than the one that 
must, even now, be tearing up the insides of her best 
friend. 

Alison sat, as if hypnotized, as the basketball player 
that still wore her juices smeared across his face, 
gripped the underside of her knees, raised them into 
the air, and guided the uncircumcised end of his huge 
black dong to the entrance to her femininity.

She wanted to stop him. She wanted to get up and run. 
She wanted him to stop because she wasn't on the pill. 
Alison had developed a reaction to the side effects of 
birth control pills and had stopped taking them. She 
had, from that time onward, insisted that Nick always 
wear a rubber. Now, as she felt the baseball bat sized 
cock head nuzzling around in her dripping vagina, she 
couldn't find her voice to tell the black man not to 
have sex with her without using a rubber.

Alison felt a pain in her stretching vagina as the 
seven-foot black began to lean into her, causing her 
vagina to expand as the huge round cock head was 
forced into her under sized vagina. Alison was only 
able to moan as she felt it slip inside and stretch 
her opening more than it had ever been stretched 
before. He realized that she was nearly a virgin. 
Actually, she was a virgin in the upper recesses of 
her vagina. He was about to plum those virgin depths 
with his foot long cock.

By this time, Clare had cum several times and her 
black stud had filled her stretched out pussy with 
sperm. She was on the pill, so, had nothing to worry 
about, as far as becoming pregnant. She once again was 
sucking on the black cock as she watched Alison out of 
the corner of her eye. She was amazed at the way her 
brunette friend was reacting to the advances of the 
tall black man. 

Alison had always been so aloof. She didn't think 
Alison had ever lost control before. And now, the 
biggest and blackest cock that Clare had ever seen was 
screwing her married friend. And, Clare had seen many 
black cocks. Since she had lived in California, she 
had several black boyfriends. She loved the contrast 
of their black skin next to her white, naturally 
blonde skin. She especially loved it when they were as 
well-endowed as these two were.

Alison's universe was centered on her vagina and the 
telephone pole sized cock that was beginning to stroke 
in and out of it. She would have had the will power to 
force her husband to don a prophylactic before he 
could enter her. But, with this tall aggressive black 
man, she lay back meekly as his hard black penis was 
shoved up into her belly without a rubber. 

Alison lay back on the bus seat as the massive black 
tool forced its way passed the point in her vagina 
that had been reached by her husband and the couple of 
white boys she had sex with before she had gotten 
married. She looked up into the black man's face as he 
sank his cock into the tight white pussy that was 
stretched around his black cock.

The black dick would penetrate an extra inch, only to 
recede an inch or two. Alison could feel her internal 
organs being pushed out of the way as her belly was 
filled full of more meat than she had ever thought 
possible. She was whimpering as the last inch was 
driven deep into her tummy. She came as soon as she 
felt the extra course black pubic hair touch her 
swollen clit. 

He just knelt there, on his knees, as the sexy white 
woman shook and wiggled on his buried cock, with a big 
smile on his face. What made it even more exciting for 
him was the gleam on the wedding ring set on the ring 
finger of the beautiful brunette's left hand. He was 
getting some white man's wife's pussy and he was 
reaching places in her cunt that he just knew that her 
husband never would. 

His balls began to thump up and down as he thought 
that he might be making her pregnant with his baby. 
His cum spewed out of his swollen cock in spurt after 
spurt until he had more than filled the pretty 
housewife's belly w is potent sperm.

Clare had seen that Alison was practically having 
convulsions as she orgasmed around the cumming black 
cock buried in her over stretched vagina. Clare had 
never liked Nick and found the thought of Alison 
letting other men fuck her to be sexually stimulating. 
The big black cock in her mouth had reached full 
height again. 

Clare climbed up and sat on it once more, letting 
herself slide down the wet shiny black shaft until her 
belly was once again full. She remembered that Alison 
couldn't take birth control pills, which meant that, 
in nine months, Alison might present Nick with a 
surprise. Clare found the thoughts to be so exciting 
that she began to have a long series of orgasms as she 
bounced up and down.

The bus had let Alison and Clare off at a taxi stand. 
They had re-arranged their clothing and went to the 
bus restroom to freshen up a little.

Each of them had swollen vaginas that still dribbled 
cum into the crotch of their panties as they stepped 
down from the bus's steps. Smithy had grinned as he 
said, "You ladies be sure and cum again sometime." He 
laughed as he closed the door of the bus and drove 
away. The taxi driver had loaded Clare's bags into the 
trunk as Alison gently sat down on the back seat of 
the cab. 

Clare was accustomed to large black cocks and was not 
as sore as her married, but innocent friend. She 
grinned as she thought of making Nick a cuckold. While 
she was here this week, she decided to make it her 
goal to see how many different cocks she could arrange 
to screw Alison. After all, Clare loved screwing as 
much as any man, and did not see any reason for Alison 
to go through life feeling differently.

Just before they reached Nick and Alison's apartment, 
Alison began to cry. Clare fished a napkin from her 
purse and passed it to her friend. Clare felt sorry 
for her friend, but knew that Alison would get over 
such feelings by the third or fourth affair that she 
had.

Graham had received a phone call and had left the 
proceedings to return to New York City. He had managed 
to orchestrate a maneuver that would keep Nick Baker 
in the state capitol for almost a week. Graham did not 
have a strong legal case, but he was crafty and 
conniving. If he could not win a case by ordinary 
means, he was not dumb enough to let a little thing 
such as Ethics get in the way. He had assigned his 
detectives to follow the major players on the opposite 
side of this case in hopes that he could find 
something to blackmail them with. Tonight, he may have 
hit pay dirt.

Graham had Jones, a weasel looking little man 
following Alison Baker for the last three days. He 
really had not expected anything to come of the 
investigation since he and Alison had dated a few 
times before she had married the smug, Mr. Thinks He 
Knows It All, Nick Baker, and knew she was to shy to 
give him an ammunition. 

Jones had excitedly told him the story of Alison's car 
breaking down on the expressway, how a bus full of 
black basketball team members picked her and some 
blonde bimbo up. What was surprising was that, a 
little over an hour later, the two women were let out 
at a taxi stand with their dresses wrinkled and their 
hair in tangles! Jones swore that they had been 
fucked!

Jones had taken both still pictures and videotape of 
the two women. Unfortunately, the pictures would not 
be incriminating enough to use for blackmail. Graham 
was driving well above the speed limit as he hurried 
toward New York City and Alison's apartment. If there 
were any truth to Jones's allegations, he had a better 
chance of finding evidence if he arrived before the 
sluts had time to wash the cum from their panties.

Clare knew what would make Alison feel better. She 
poured two glasses of Chardonnay, a white wine, went 
to the master bath, turned on the tab to send hot 
water cascading into the tub, poured some bubble bath 
and oils into the swirling water and went into the 
bedroom to help the crying woman out of her sperm 
soaked clothing.

The insides of Clare's thighs were slick with the 
semen that had leaked from her saturated panties to 
the tops of her thigh high stockings. She loved the 
feeling of being a sperm soaked slut. She wanted her 
friend to loosen up and also enjoy the pleasures that 
life had to offer. Being in Los Angeles had helped 
her. Clare had always been wild, but Alison did not 
even suspect some of the things that she had done 
since moving to California. 

On the weekends, Clare was making X-rated porno tapes. 
She was still just locally known, but was planning on 
becoming nationally known soon. She had specialized in 
interracial porn. The bigger and blacker the cocks in 
her mov the more videotapes the buyers wanted.

Alison meekly followed her fair-haired friend to the 
bathroom and let her peel the clothing from her sore 
body. The warm water felt soothing to her abused body 
as she slowly settled into the bath. Clare handed her 
one of the glasses of wine, picked up the other and 
made a toast, "Here's to the female orgasm!" Alison 
automatically sipped the cool liquid as Clare drank 
her wine. 

Alison's mind was in turmoil. She felt incredibly 
guilty because she had, for the first time, cheated on 
her husband. As far as she knew, Nick had never 
strayed. Alison felt like a cheap slut as a tear 
rolled down her pretty face.

The warm bath and the glasses of wine helped Alison 
forget, just a little, what had happened tonight. She 
was high and did not protest when Clare peeled her own 
clothing off and joined Alison in the large tub. 
Alison was so drunk that she openly stared at Clare's 
thin blonde body as she settled down in the tub with 
her. 

Alison knew it was wrong for her nipples to harden as 
her friend's body wetly slid against her own. Alison 
was on her fourth glass of wine and was too far-gone 
to protest as a pair of arms encircled her nude body 
and drew her body against Clare's. "Poor Alison. You 
have had such a trying night. I'll help you forget 
what has happened. We don't need those nasty men to 
make us feel good. Let me show you." With those words, 
Clare brought her lips gently to Alison's soft warm 
mouth. After all that had happened - and the wine - 
Alison was too slow to react and protest. Besides, the 
kiss was soft and gentle, as only another woman would 
be able to kiss. 

"Clare was her best friend and would never do anything 
to harm her," she thought as she lay passively in the 
horny blonde's arms. They shared slow wet passionate 
kisses for the next fifteen minutes.

Alison was actually disappointed when Clare had 
stopped kissing her and had risen from the cooling 
bath water. She watched as Clare sensuously dried her 
own body, then helped her out and dried hers. Alison 
was passive as she was led to her and her husband's 
marriage bed. The patchwork quilt, that Alison had 
been so proud of, was pulled from the king size bed 
and dropped on the floor. 

Clare had her inebriated and confused friend lie on 
the bed. For years, Clare had wanted the tall well-
endowed brunette in this position. Occasionally, Clare 
would masturbate as she thought of what she would love 
to do to her innocent minded friend. Now, she had 
Alison right where she wanted her.

Alison lay her head on the pillow with her hair spread 
out around her head like an angel's wings. Her nipples 
and inner labia were red and swollen from the 
treatment that the tall black basketball player had 
given them earlier in the night. In her mind, there 
were warnings about what she knew that Clare was going 
to do to her. Her mental turmoil over having cheated 
on her husband for the first time, and the effects of 
the Chardonnay wine, blocked her ability to resist the 
emotions that made her want to have Clare hug and kiss 
her some more. Clare wasted little time in doing so.

Clare lay on top of Alison. Her thigh moved between 
Alison's, causing her thigh to rub against the 
brunette's swollen and hypersensitive vagina. The 
blonde rubbed her swollen mound against her friend's 
thigh even as her lips met Alison's. The kiss lasted 
for several minutes before Clare inserted her tongue 
into Alison's partly open mouth. After the events on 
the bus, and the sexually charged state of each of 
their bodies, Alison found little trouble being able 
to climax as the two women embraced and massaged each 
other's vaginas with their thighs.

Clare moved down and sucked Alison's redden nipples. 
She delighted in the expressions on her friend's face 
as she slipped her hand down Alison's smooth tummy to 
play with the moistening hair fringed slit. Alison was 
not able to exercise any control over her sexually 
excited body. Tonight, for virtually the first time in 
her life, she had completely lost control over her 
libido. When Clare's middle finger began to tease her 
erect clitoris, she built up to a powerful climax. 

By the time Alison had become aware of what was 
happening, Clare had slid down and had parted her 
friend's vagina lips and was wrapping her lips around 
the swollen clit. Alison bucked and wiggled about on 
the bed as she was forced to endure one massive orgasm 
after the other. Twenty-seven minutes, and a countless 
number or orgasms later, Alison's sweat soaked body 
lost consciousness.

*

Alison awoke slowly. She had a slight hangover. She 
opened her eyes to see Clare lying in bed next to her. 
A sheet covered them, but underneath the sheet, she 
knew that they were nude. 

Then, memories of the previous night came flooding 
back through her mind. She sat up quickly as the shock 
of what she had done sank into her mind. The sudden 
movement did not help her hangover-fogged brain. 
Alison looked down at where the sheet had fallen away 
from her large breasts. Her nipples were swollen and 
red in color. They were also extra sensitive.

Alison looked over at Clare and saw that her eyes were 
open. Alison asked, "Did everything that I remember 
actually happen last night?" Clare asked her what she 
remembered. Alison named off the items on her mental 
list. Clare nodded her pretty head for each item. 
Alison blushed as she mentioned the things that she 
and Clare had done in bed. Clare only smiled at her 
friend.

Alison had to pee. She got out of bed and almost ran 
to the bathroom. She sat down on the commode and let 
her water drain from her body. After she had finished, 
she automatically reached for some toilet tissue to 
dry herself. As she patted herself, she made a 
startling discovery; her pubic hair was gone. 

She cried out, "No!" She jumped up and ran to the 
mirrors. She could see the reflection of her almost 
flat belly in the mirror. The gentle curve under her 
tummy was completely bald. It was not trimmed. It was 
bald! Her puffy vagina lips and the swollen inner 
labia, which were hanging out since last night, could 
be seen in the mirror. 

Alison grabbed the edge of the bathroom sink to steady 
herself, as the room seemed to go around in a circle 
for a moment. "Doesn't it look beautiful?" Clare, also 
naked, spoke from the doorway.

"What have you done to me? How will I explain this to 
Nick when he gets home?" Alison asked as she looked at 
her reflection.

"Just tell him that you did it to wear bathing suits. 
Hell, men hardly ever notice anything anyway. Nick is 
no different. In fact, most men get turned on by bald 
beavers." Clare moved up behind Alison and wrapped her 
arms around her nude friend. 

Alison felt Clare's bare breasts and pubic hair 
covered mound pressing against her back. "I shaved you 
last night after you had passed out. From now on, when 
someone eats your delicious slit, they won't get pubic 
hair stuck between their teeth. If you want to, I'll 
let you shave me."

Alison watched in the mirror as Clare's hands moved up 
to caress her D cup breasts. By the time Alison's hand 
had moved up to push her friend's hands away, Clare's 
fingers were gently pinching her enlarged nipples. 
Instead of being able to push the questing fingers 
away, Alison's hands were only able to cover them as 
she felt the erotic sensations emanating from her 
breasts. 

One of Clare's hands moved down her smooth belly and 
caressed her hairless vagina lips. Alison was amazed 
at the intensity of the sensations that resulted from 
having her bald pussy played with by another woman. 
She found that she had no will power to say no when 
Clare led her back to bed.

Clare positioned the brunette in the middle of the 
rumpled bed before she went down on her again. Alison 
was responding to her friend's tongue and lips by 
cumming several times. When Clare turned around to 
settle her own pussy down onto Alison's face, Alison 
was so sexually excited, she did to Clare's clit and 
vagina, exactly what Clare had done to hers. Finally, 
after all these years, Clare had gotten Alison right 
where she had always wanted her. Clare reached several 
large orgasms as she rocked her cunt back and forth on 
Alison's pretty face.

The two women lay together in the bed with their arms 
around each other. Alison's mind was in a state of 
confusion. The last twelve hours were the most 
debasing of her life. They were also the most erotic 
and sexually satisfying. She had found that by finally 
letting go with her sexuality that she had mind-
blowing orgasms. She looked into Clare's face to find 
her blonde lover smiling at her just before they 
kissed. The doorbell interrupted them.

Both women got out of bed and put on robes. They went 
downstairs to see who was bothering them. It was after 
noon on Saturday and Alison was not expecting visitors 
and Nick had left a message that he would not be back 
for several days. Alison looked out the peephole and 
saw that it was Graham Gray. She had dated him before 
she and Nick were married. She had expected him to be 
at the Capitol with Nick while they were arguing their 
cases and giving depositions. She wondered what he was 
doing here as she unlocked the door to let him in.

Graham had the photos in his pocket as the door 
opened. Alison's hair was slightly tangled and her 
lipstick was smeared. She had on a pink robe that was 
just thin enough to see her nipples protruding from 
her large breasts. He brought his eyes up to meet hers 
before she got mad about him staring at her big tits. 
"Hello, Alison. Long time no see. Do you mind if I 
come in to talk?" 

He brushed by the tall brunette and entered the living 
room without giving her time to answer. He saw Clare 
sitting on the sofa smoking a cigarette in a blue robe 
that probably belonged to Nick. Graham remembered the 
night he had fucked the pretty blonde in the ass and 
his cock got even harder in his pants. 

"Hello, Clare. This is a surprise finding you here." 
Actually, it wasn't. He had recognized her in the 
pictures as she and Alison were getting off the 
basketball team bus.

Clare said, "Hello, Graham. Are you as big of an 
asshole as you were the last time I was in New York?" 
She was referring to the night that he had gotten her 
high on pot and had anal sex with her while she was to 
high to protest. Even though Graham had a small dick, 
her anus had been sore because he had not used 
lubricant. Graham laughed and nodded his head.

"Actually, that is part of the reason I am here. 
Someone has given me some pictures that were taken 
last night. They are very incriminating. It shows the 
two of you getting on a bus with a bunch of black 
basketball monkeys with your hair and clothing all 
neat and fresh. Then the other pictures showed the two 
of you getting off the bus with your hair and clothing 
all wrinkled and in disarray. The Good Lord only knows 
what Nick or your family would think of these 
pictures." He removed the pictures from his pocket and 
laid them on the coffee table in front of the two 
women.

Alison felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her 
stomach. She reached with shaking hands and grabbed up 
the photos. She ripped them into hundreds of pieces 
and flung them into the wastepaper basket. Graham 
reached into his pocket and pulled another set of the 
pictures out and held them up for Alison to see. 

"Destruction of other people's property is a crime. 
I'm willing to overlook your violation of the law just 
like I am willing to keep your indiscretions a secret. 
I do, however, need a favor, and I believe that you 
two can help me." 

Alison saw the pictures in her ex-boyfriend's hands 
and her shoulders slumped in defeat. Clare didn't 
really care if he showed the pictures to the whole 
country, but she was curious and wanted to know what 
he had in mind.

It was at that moment that Alison remembered that she 
had not called a tow truck to pick up her car. When 
she had gotten off the bus, she had been too upset to 
call. After she had gotten home and had the glasses of 
wine, she had completely forgotten. She excused 
herself and went to the other room to call the dealer 
and get them to tow in her car, or, whatever was left 
of it after setting on the side of the expressway 
overnight. 

While she was gone, Clare told Graham that she 
personally did not care if he put the pictures on the 
evening news. He decided that, since he was only after 
Nick, and therefore, only Alison interested him, that 
he would try to bring Clare in on his side. He 
explained the situation to her and offered to buy her 
a new Lexus if she would assist him in corrupting the 
previously innocent housewife. For a new Lexus, Clare 
would have been willing to debase and defile the 
Virgin Mary. She agreed to betray her best friend 
before Alison returned to the room.

When Alison came back to the living room and sat down 
on the sofa, Graham explained to her that he had a 
detective agency and that his female operatives had 
quit last week. In return for the pictures and the 
negatives, he needed them to assist Mr. Jones in an 
investigation. He would only require their services 
for tonight, and they would never see him or the 
pictures again. He assured them that they would be 
perfectly safe and that, "Nick would never know what 
you did last night." 

Alison did not want to do it, but Clare talked her 
into it. When Alison agreed, Graham told them that Mr. 
Jones would be there in two hours with their 
disguises. He kissed each of them on the cheek before 
leaving. After he left the apartment, he mumbled 
something about, "Fucking sluts."

Alison was very upset. Clare led her to the kitchen 
and fixed a light breakfast for them. Graham had 
explained what was to happen tonight and she knew that 
they would need the energy.

*

Alison recognized Mr. Jones as the man with the weasel 
face that she had seen at the airport the previous 
night. He waited in the living room as she and Clare 
carried the boxes of clothing up to the upstairs 
bedroom. Alison opened the box with her name on it and 
almost went into shock. These clothes looked like the 
kind of clothes that a common streetwalker wore. She 
wouldn't even wear such clothes in the privacy of her 
own bedroom when Nick had asked her to. She certainly 
had no intention of wearing such an outfit out in 
public. Even the two glasses of Chardonnay that Clare 
had given before their bath her had not clouded her 
judgement this much!

Clare was already getting into her clothes. Alison 
watched as her friend wrapped a dainty pink garter 
belt around her tiny waist and hooked it. She twisted 
it around until it hung just right. Next, she picked 
up a pair of suntan silk stockings, slipped them up 
her legs and attached them to her garter belt. She 
pulled out a pair of four-inch white stiletto high 
heel shoes and buckled the ankle straps around her 
small ankles. Even Alison, after what had recently 
happened between Clare and her, had to admit that 
Clare was a sexy vision as she moved around the 
bedroom in such erotic lingerie. 

Alison almost hated to see her friend pull the small 
pink panties up and cover her love mound. Clare found 
no brassiere in the box. The only other piece of 
clothing was a thin pink silk wrap mini dress. She put 
it on and turned around all the way, like a fashion 
model does, as she asked for Alison's opinion.

Clare came over and helped the protesting Alison to 
get dressed in the skimpy prostitute's disguise. A 
black garter belt with lace trim went around her small 
waist. Next, a pair of black silk stockings with a 
seam up the back were pulled up her legs and attached 
to the garter belt. A pair of black four-inch high 
stiletto heels was buckled on her feet. A pair of 
black crotchless panties were slid up her legs and 
pulled into place. 

Next, a black brassiere was hooked around her chest. 
Alison looked down and was shocked to see that the 
centers of the bra cups were cut out and that her 
breast were lifted and her red sensitive nipples were 
held out as if begging to be sucked on. She glanced in 
a mirror and saw her bald vagina plainly visible 
through the cut out in the panties. She took a couple 
of swallows of the fresh glass of wine that Clare gave 
her as she thought of the embarrassment of being out 
in public with such sinful lingerie under her outer 
clothing.

Clare put her arms around her longtime friend in a 
gesture that was meant to imply support, but was only 
done to feel Alison's sexy body against her own. Clare 
had slipped the pill that Graham had given her when he 
was here into Alison's first glass of wine. 

She could tell that the brunette was a little high as 
she ran her hands down over the shapely bottom and 
found that the black crotchless panties even left the 
crack of Alison's beautiful ass exposed. She kissed 
Alison's unresisting mouth for a couple of minutes 
before she heard Jones yelling for them to, "Hurry up! 
We ain't got all night!"

Clare found that Alison's white dress was also a thin 
silk wrap dress. It was made of an almost transparent 
material and was about two sizes too small. Where it 
flapped over in front was only a few inches. Alison 
would have to be very careful when she sat down, or 
even when she was walking, or else the dress would 
fall open and expose her nipples peeking through the 
brassiere cup cut outs and her bare pussy lips through 
her crotchless panties. 

When Clare stepped back to get a better look at the 
over-all image that the innocent housewife would 
convey to everyone that saw her tonight. She saw that 
the combination of a thin white dress and black sexy 
lingerie was visually stunning. Every article of black 
lingerie could be seen, including the cutouts in her 
bra and panties, through the thin white material of 
her dress. Clare knew that if she were going to get 
Alison out of the door of her apartment in these 
clothes, she would have to keep her friend away from 
mirrors.

Mr. Jones almost swallowed his chewing gum as he saw 
the two women descend the stairs. His little needle 
dick got harder than it had been in years as he 
imagined all the things he would like to do to the 
young women. "To bad the boss has other plans for the 
two bitches," he thought to himself, "I would show 
them how a real man could fuck them." He reached down 
and pulled his small throbbing pecker to one side as 
he held the front door open for Clare and Alison to 
leave the relative safety of Alison's apartment.

*

Jones had dropped Clare and Alison off at a street 
corner in a rough part of town. "A large Linclon Town 
Car will be through here in a few minutes with four 
men inside. Do whatever you have to do to get them to 
stop. Let them pick you up and take you to their 
apartment. Once you get there, be on the lookout for a 
stolen computer system. It's a new ZL1 system. It's a 
big machine and you can't miss it. They may have it in 
a bedroom. Here are two panic button transmitters. 
Push them when you find the computer or if you think 
you are in danger." 

There were no stolen ZL1 computers. The four men were 
four of the biggest, blackest and meanest rapist that 
his detective agency had ever investigated. Graham had 
bailed them out of jail just to do this job for him.

And, the panic button transmitters that Jones had 
handed the two women, were just kids toys that did not 
really work. He was grinning ear to ear as he drove 
off to park in an alley and record the coming events 
on video and photos.

The videotape would show, through the telephoto lens, 
close-ups of Clare and Alison working the street 
corner like any other pair of whores. He had them redo 
their make up in the car. They really were painted up 
like cheap hookers. Jones zoomed out as the big 
Lincoln pulled up to the curb. The car blocked the 
shot enough so that the viewer was not aware that 
Alison had taken several steps back away from the curb 
when she saw how rough the huge black men in the car 
appeared to be. Clare reached over and pulled her 
forward. Jones recorded Clare getting into the front 
seat as Alison was pulled into the back seat. The car 
sped away.

Jones started his car and followed the Lincoln to the 
abandoned apartment building where the four men lived. 
His video camera managed to record, through his 
windshield, as the two men in the back of the big car 
took turns kissing the brunette in the back seat. What 
could not be seen was the way their hands had opened 
the front of Alison's wrap dress and the way that they 
were molesting her body with their large black 
fingers. It also did not record the way she was 
desperately pressing the button on the kiddy toy in 
her right hand.

When they arrived at the abandoned building, Alison 
was pulled from the back of the vehicle with her dress 
hanging open. With one huge black man on her right 
side, and another on her left, they continued to maul 
her large sensitive breasts and now very wet vagina, 
as she was practically carried into the building. 
Jones almost felt sorry for the dumb bitch. He had 
seen how these guys used the white women that they 
captured when they got in the mood for sex. Her cunt, 
ass and throat would be thoroughly used by each of 
them before they turned her loose. Graham had told 
them that they could keep her for three days. By the 
time three days were up, the brunette would have been 
mind fucked as well as physically fucked.

The video cameras installed in the apartment recorded 
the abuse that Alison and Clare endured for the next 
three days. Jones was kept busy just changing the 
videotapes in the machines in the adjacent apartment. 
He was amazed that the four brothers could save up 
that much sperm during the three weeks that they had 
been locked up in jail. Even the young blonde bimbo 
seemed to get more black cock than she wanted. 

Before the end of the second day, both of the white 
girls were willing participants in the sexual orgies 
with the well-endowed black men. Jones had already 
given up hope of screwing either of the two women. 
Hell, with the stretching that their asses and cunts 
had over the last two days, it would feel as if he 
were trying to screw an open window on a warm rainy 
day.

On the third day, another couple of black men came to 
the apartment. Clare and Alison willing sucked their 
big cocks before they were fucked by them. It turned 
out that one of them was a tattoo artist. In big black 
letters, each woman received a tattoo over the tops of 
their breasts, where it would be seen if they wore a 
low cut top or a bathing suit, "A SLUT FOR BLACK 
COCK!" The other visitor was a body piercing 
specialist. Titanium core gold rings were placed in 
both of the white women's nipples and clitoral hood. 

Each of them had to be held down as the piercings were 
made without anesthetic. Whiskey was used to sterilize 
the wounds before the rings were inserted and the 
fittings super-glued in place. Those rings would never 
be removed for the rest of Clare and Alison's lives.

The day that the two women were released, they were 
taken to a street corner in the tattered remains of 
their streetwalker clothing, and pushed from the 
Lincoln. Having no money with them, they had to turn 
tricks just to get cab fare home. Clare only had to 
suck a man's cock for her money. Poor Alison had to 
let a man fuck her up the ass for her share of the 
taxi money.

*

Copies of the videotapes were delivered to Nick Baker. 
He sat in his hotel room and watched in horror as his 
blushing innocent bride was turned into a black cock-
loving whore. The note that accompanied the tape was 
simple. It instructed him to settle the suit at a 
monetary amount that was far out of range of what it 
should have been. He loved Alison and wanted to 
salvage what he could from their relationship. He 
resigned himself to the fact that he would go against 
the best interests of his clients and settle the first 
thing in the morning. He needed to get home to his 
wife who needed him.

As soon as the two women had returned to the 
apartment, they collapsed in bed and slept for the 
next eight hours. Clare woke up first, had gotten her 
bags, taken a quick shower, called a taxi and left for 
Los Angeles. She had been willing to corrupt her best 
friend for a new Lexus, but she had gotten far more 
than she had bargained for. In the back seat of the 
cab, as she tried to find a position to sit in where 
the clit ring would not make her open cunt drool into 
her panties so much, she thought, "I bet that son of a 
bitch Graham doesn't deliver on the Lexus, either!" He 
didn't.

*

Later that night, Nick arrived home just as six large 
black men were leaving his apartment. They passed him 
in the hallway. They were smiling and talking among 
themselves about, "some fine piece of ass." Nick used 
his key to let himself into his front door. Alison was 
not downstairs. He silently carried his bags up the 
stairs and reluctantly looked in the door of the 
master bedroom.

Alison lay face down on the rumpled king size bed that 
was their marriage bed with her ass still up in the 
air. She and the bed were practically covered in 
sperm. Her red garter belt held up a pair of laddered 
black nylon stockings. He could see when he moved 
behind her semiconscious form that her anus and cunt 
hung open. Her clit ring was dripping black baby 
making sperm onto the sheets and soaking the mattress. 

Alison moaned and her body shuttered in orgasmic 
aftershocks, causing her anus and cunt to contract for 
a second before they dilated again. The movement 
caused extra dribbles of semen to come out and run 
down her thighs. Neither of them knew it, but Alison 
was already pregnant with her first baby. It would be 
only the first of the black children that she would 
give birth to.

Nick could not understand why his penis had gotten so 
hard as he saw the damage that the six black men had 
done to his beloved wife. Alison's left hand came back 
between her legs and scooped up some of the sperm that 
was flowing down her thighs on her fingertips. Nick 
leaned to the side and saw that she brought her 
fingers to her mouth and sucked the gooey coating from 
them. 

When he saw that she was licking the black men's 
babymaker juice that had coated her wedding bands, 
something inside Nick clicked - and his stiff cock 
came in his pants.

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any
of the scenarios in this story should seriously 
consider seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 78