Black Bred

  I’m married to a wonderful man. We live in a nice house in a good neighborhood. My husband travels on business often and plans on making a long trip this week.

  His long trips sometimes leaves me sexually frustrated so I have to resort to playing with my toys. My mind starts drifting as I play with my vibrator. My head leaned all the way back as I rub my clit.

  I can see a picture in my head of our new neighbor. He’s black and very muscular. I get the idea from him that he could be very dominant.

I fantasize about a situation where I am with him and I've been in a relationship with him for a while. We’ve been seeing each other often. Whenever my husband is on one of his long trips. I get a phone call from him just hours before my husband leaves on his trip.

He tells me it’s long overdo that I should be black bred. I try to explain that my husband would kill me if he found out I was pregnant with a black baby. He won’t listen to my pleads and explains how he wants me to prepare for the evening.

He tells me this before haning up and I spend the whole day at my job in a terrible state, just anticipating.

On a break, perhaps my cell phone rings, and it is him, telling me just a hint about what is in store and a 'suggestion' about where I should be when he arrives at my house that evening.

I fix dinner for us, and he arrives at my front door a bit late. The table is set, and he takes the bottle of wine out and a pair of glasses out to pour us a drink.

I go upstairs to take off my clothing- cooking naked is not a good idea when you are excited and likely to spill something. We sit outside on the deck as the sun goes down, and he tells me the rest of his plans.

I love the way wind feels on my body when I'm naked, it's one of the nicest things about living in the country. I love sunbathing in the nude. I suspect my neighbor has seen me many times out in my back yard.

It starts to cool off, as it does in the desert in the evening, and I move to sitting with him on a love seat on our back porch. I move to sit on his lap. I'm already wet I have been all day, more or less. I would wonder how he knew THIS was the day I ovulate, as even I don't usually keep track of my periods that closely. I am not very organized though, and he is.

He tells me how sexy he thinks I am, runs his hands up and down my sides and caresses my breasts before tweaking my nipple. "I want to see these get even bigger."

I shiver. This isn't usually a fantasy of mine- I am a double D, which is quite enough when you are running after an out of control puppy that your student has let, for some unknown reason, off leash. Tonight though, is not about practical. It's about need. I have to ask myself, “Why does my husband have to take these long trips?”

My pussy feels like a vacuum, pulling the rest of my body in towards it, desperate to be filled with something.

I can't resist any longer, I reach down to touch myself, but he grabs my hand. "Tonight, you are receptive, and you will receive nothing I don't give you."

I make a noise that is somewhere between a groan of frustration and a laugh. We are a partnership, with give and take, but he has his moments of this, and it is, as I know, natural.

I am an independent, strong-minded individual, and I don't really think of myself as submissive, but when he really wants something? He usually gets it, and it turns me on. A lot of people throw around the words 'dominant, submissive, alpha'- it's sort of a trade hazard for me, as I am a dog trainer. And it usually makes me laugh, because when people in ahem, the adult world, start tossing the terms around?

Well... some of the interpretations are pretty weird. The dominant wolf- or dog- in a pack doesn't go around picking fights, and he doesn't get his jollies bossing someone. Dominance simply means that when he DOES feel the need for things to go a certain way, they do. Tonight, the dominant one wants to breed me- and I will be bred.

He leans towards me then, and takes my nipple in his mouth, bites gently and then smiles at me. "Let's go upstairs."

I know, if I wanted to, I could say no, and he would respect it. But I don't WANT to say no. The practical considerations are not my responsibility any more- he has taken all that and reduced me to my most basic, primal self. I am sitting across his lap, straddling him, and I use the excuse of standing up to grind against him- just once.

"Ah-" he cautions, the same sound we use with our dogs, who are out in the kennel tonight, as if I am an animal incapable of language. I nearly am. Sensation is far more important than thought at this point, but his disapproval is clear and I subside.

He stands up, and we walk into the house and up the stairs to our master bedroom together. The bedroom my husband and I share. The lights are not turned on, but the room is not completely dark. Silvery light comes from the windows on the outer wall and illuminates the bed, covers neatly folded at the foot, one of my duties this afternoon.

"Go lay down," he says, "On your stomach." I KNOW he is going to draw this out, and I am ready NOW- but I obey, propping my head on my crossed arms and looking back at him, waiting.

He unbuttons his shirt, folds it. "Now you are just being mean." I say. His normal routine is dropping things on the floor, where I inevitably trip over them.

He smiles. "So?" He unbuttons his pants, removes his boxers, his shoes were already gone at the bottom of the stairs. I spread my legs, wriggle, I hope, provocatively, and he drops his pants and climbs onto the bed himself, lightly slapping me on the ass. "Stay still." I laugh.

He begins to rub my back, lightly, starting with my shoulders, the back of my neck (which he bends to kiss and then nip, which is completely, unfairly erotic for no reason I can explain). Working down my spine, across my buttocks.

It seems like hours but is probably only a minute or two, before he tells me to turn over and lays down next to me on his side, so we are facing each other.

"I can't wait," he says "To see your belly grow and know that it is my child." He reaches out and places a hand on my abdomen, approximately where said bump will be, hopefully. "I want to fuck you from behind when you are full and round and heavy with a black child."

"I want to drink from your nipples and watch you squirm, knowing that it was me who made you this way, and will again."

He sits up, I start to follow, but he motions me back down, moving to sit between my spread legs, leaning over me. He runs his hands down my body again, circling my nipples- which are so hard at this point they are painful, avoiding my ribs, which is good, as I am ridiculously ticklish, especially when aroused. He fits his hands around my waist, thumbs rubbing over my hip bones, continuing down, to rest on my thighs.

He is kneeling, and he slips his hands under me to lift me so that my lower body is resting on his knees, giving him full access to my crotch with his hands. This is a position he's used in the past for teasing me, and a game we've played before- just how long does it take before I begin to beg for him to hurry up and fuck me?

He runs a finger gently down the lips of my pussy, which are thick, fleshy, and used to bother me as 'abnormal' from the tight, tiny-lipped things of girls in porn videos and pictures. With my legs spread as they are though, they are pulled tightly open, just enough flesh for him to pinch and pull at in a way that is almost, but not quite so intense as to be painful.

He traces inside the lips, around my pussy itself, then touches the little spot just above my clit that drives me mad even when I am too sensitive for my clit to be stimulated directly. I gasp and strain to open my legs wider.

My pussy strains, longing for something, anything to fill it, to be drawn up inside of me and to fill the empty places inside me exactly as nature intended them to be filled.

He presses a finger, two fingers inside of me and I can't help my pussy tightening on them, but they are deliberately withdrawn, kept out, pulled back, leaving me emptier than ever.

I moan, something about "I want you inside me," but probably less sensible, as my brains have migrated to my crotch; every nerve in my body is there, on fire, and he does it again, harder, pressing this time with the heel of his hand against my pubic bone and I buck, desperate now.

He is as hard as a rock, I can feel his black cock frustratingly near and yet not inside of me. "Please."

"Tell me what you want." He says, stilling the motion of his hand, although the pressure remains. My pulse throbs, I squirm.

"I want you to fuck me," I say. "Please, for god's sake, just fuck me."

He smiles, motionless, and I know he wants to hear it all. "Please, fuck me and cum in me and make me pregnant. I want to have your baby. I want you to fuck me when I'm pregnant and big and tight and I want you to do it again and again-" And he does.

His cock slides into me easily, fitting into me as if I was made to fit it like a custom made glove- he’s large but it feels just right. He leans over me, rearranging us on the bed, him still in me, until I can bear it no more and move my hips. He is filling me, but I am still empty, and I NEED more.

He pulls back, then pushes back into me. I push my hips up at him as he moves, we move, and together we begin the long fall into ecstasy, speeding up together as we both near our climaxes.

I come quickly, having been on edge so long, but just as the final waves are washing over me, he hits bottom, the head of his prick bumping up against my cervix, and I come again, thinking about the nearness of his black cock to my fertile womb.

"Cum in me," I manage to gasp, breathless. "I want your cum in my belly making me big and tight and pregnant."

I have heard, but never believed, that women can feel it when a man ejaculates. Scientists insist it isn't possible, but I can tell you that it is.

He explodes in me with a gasp and a sudden bursting of warmth that sets off a third explosion in me, and I wrap my legs tighter around him, not sure when they got there, but I pull him to me, deeper and deeper, and we both finish together. He remains on top of me, inside me, as he softens, and I murmur a denial as he finally withdraws, wanting to keep the full feeling.

And I am black bred.