Hi! I’m Ashley, I’m 25 years old and I’m a total slut. Here’s what I’ve done. I’ve fulfilled my boyfriend’s worst feat. The worst feat of any white man, after all. I’ve cheated on him with a black guy. But don’t take me wrong, because this is not a confession. I’m actually bragging right now with the awful and orgasmic thing that I did.
I know it starts as a cliché wife cheating story, but that’s how it usually happens in real life. The girls and I were out for a bar crawl. It’s a crawl we all did since we were 21 and it stuck as a tradition. So, my boyfriend didn’t even think about asking me anything about my plans for the night. And to be honest, I didn’t have any adulterous intentions in mind. There was just one decision I made on New Years eve, when not one, but two of my girls went home with some black guys and I went home with my boyfriend who was too drunk even to fuck me. I sucked his dick and nothing. And as I was laying in bed with him asleep next to me and with envy on the other two bitches getting stretched who knows where, I decided that if a black guy ever hits on me and asks me to go fuck him, I’ll just go.
And guess what happened at the first bar we stopped on our night out. Marcus happened. Just Marcus! Didn’t even know his first name, if that was his real name, if he was a movie soundtrack producer as he told me or if he actually knew Gloria, my friend whom he claimed to know since kindergarten and didn’t see in 20 years just to sit at the table with us, right next to me. As he was talking to Gloria about what sounded like made-up memories, he was spreading his legs and brushing my thigh. And of course, I looked. Every woman looks at the crotch when a black guy sits beside her. And yes, exactly what you imagine.
I don’t know what this guy did to us, but we were all giggling and drinking, and we didn’t even leave the first bar. We spent the night there at that table, laughing and chatting and touching legs. By the third drink, we were leaning on each other, and when the fourth came, he was caressing my inner thighs. Now, I love my boyfriend. But Marcus was fine, and the girls knew that too.
When my boyfriend called me, I had to leave the table and go talk in some other place. He would have caught something’s wrong in my giggly voice. He was complaining that I’m not home already, but I told him the girls insist on staying and that I can’t wait to get home, because I’m tipsy and horny. I can always shut his mouth with this line when I go out. When I returned to the table, there was just Marcus. The bitches completed with him and left us alone. It was like the decision was already made. I kept hoping all this time it’s a harmless flirt, but we were so on.
He told me he’d drive me home safe. The whole energy was different now that we were alone. I got in his car, and we just drove. No radio, no talking, just driving and directions. We were in front of the house, parked on the other side of the street. I was looking at my house through the driver’s window and over Marcuse’s forearms. And I said, “Fuck it!” Took off my jacket while he pulled out that dick I’ve been staring at all night. I jumped right on top of him, and I guess he knew I’ve never had such a big cock before, because in a way he stopped me from shoving it in my pussy just like that, because he knew I might hurt myself. He grabbed me by the waist and slowly impaled me on that monster cock as I was moaning so loud, I was sure my boyfriend heard me. But I swear I didn’t care. I was only worried if the car is locked because I didn’t want him to come and bother me until I finish. And just as I thought that I finished. It was the first time I came on a cock. It was the best feeling ever, and I swear that my pussy contractions were the ones that made him cum, because as I was orgasming, I felt his warm cum flooding my pussy.
That was it! The magic stopped. I grabbed my jacket, opened the door and climbed down his car through the driver’s door. Didn’t even care if someone was seeing me. I turned around and walked to the house. Behind me, Marcus was leaving.
When I entered the house, my boyfriend was on the couch, and I think he was watching some kind of cartoons. He was half-drunk and had a puppy look on his face, thinking I’m going to let him fuck my ass because I’m late and tipsy. Without talking to him, I dropped down on my knees, whipped out his dick and started blowing him with the same passion I would have blown Marcus if I had the chance. He was moaning loud. I felt cum dripping out of my pussy so I put my hand under my skirt, and my boyfriend thought I was fingering myself for his entertainment. He then said “Now taste yourself!” I smiled and I did, but it wasn’t me I was tasting. My boyfriend didn’t cum. Or he did? I can’t even remember. All I know is that we went to bed and woke up the next day like nothing ever happened. Except that I had to take a morning-after pill. I can’t wait for my next Marcus.
