The first portion of this story was previously published as part of Total Woman Trainers Ch. 06. I have republished it here with some changes and continued into an expanded story. Please vote, comment, and enjoy.
-----
** Elisha Edgars 01
"SAV, Savannah/Hilton Head Air Traffic Control, this is TWA 001, requesting a vector for landing."
"TWA 001, this is Savannah Control, proceed to the outer marker for Runway 28, winds from the east at 5 MPH. Welcome to the Hostess City, sugar."
Krystal liked that one: Sugar. She keyed the intercom.
"Five minutes to touchdown, sir. Please buckle in."
Ned fixed his seatbelt and watched the Low Country pass by as the jet descended. They landed smoothly and parked next to Gulfstream's on-airport facilities. They would take an extra day on the ground this time, get the Gulfstream folks to kick the tires, light the fires and give the G280 a preventative maintenance checkup. Arrangements complete, Krystal escorted Ned to the black town car waiting on the apron, opened the rear door, and seated her alpha male charge inside. It was a short trip as she wheeled the town car from the airport, down I-16 towards the Victorian Historic District.
Ned's assignment package had four black coed candidate summaries. It was a team interview assignment with three younger staff coach tutors. As the Coach Tutor Emeritus, it was his prerogative to get the first choice.
Shuffling through the glamour photos and resumes, he was repeatedly drawn to one particular young lady.
Her resume described Elisha as having gracious southern charms, prim and courteous manners, and the smarts expected of an upscale African American college student at SCAD, the local fine arts college. Her two years of fashion studies were completed and her finances were exhausted. She was being offered a full TWA Scholarship, anonymously, of course, to complete her junior and senior years elsewhere.
Elisha was made aware that her upcoming interview might be interracial. She was sexually experienced but had never been with a white man. She asked for advice from her white classmates, portraying the looming encounter as a blind date, which in part it was. But she held back that it was so much more. It was critically important to her future.
"Men are all alike. Be yourself and go with the flow. Enjoy the color contrast and the spicy intrigue."
Elisha hoped she was up to the challenge.
Ned met her at a back alley boutique teahouse in the afternoon. Their conversation was light; her social etiquettes filled with Southern charm. But he immediately sensed that the gracious etiquette was a cover. He suspected she had an untamed spirit beneath her posh cultured style.
He gave her some guidance on their evening. He expected her to be dazzlingly glamorous when he collected her from her off-campus apartment at dusk. Then he would escort her to the formal graduation ceremony, a pseudo cotillion with a more intimate private soiree later that evening.
And thus, when he arrived, she was festival ready for her big night: strappy heels, long lacy white cotillion dress, black shoulder-length dreadlock ringlets, face highlighting makeup, and silver jewelry, all set to thrill her man and her party cohorts. Her debutante style formal dress was a perfect complement to Ned's tuxedo.
Krystal drove the town car through the narrow streets, winding from Elisha's place to the convention hall venue in the Historic District of Old Savannah. She dropped them at the entrance with its white-gloved ushers, Greek revival columns, and Georgian façade.
Ned escorted Elisha inside to the main cotillion, where their entrance was announced along with the others in the line. He socialized with her friends and danced with her in the luxurious chandeliered hall.
The graduation announcements and diploma distributions wound down the evening, with champagne toasts, hugs, and congratulations. They eventually took their leave of the main company and joined a small group of her companions and their escorts.
The select group of four couples retired to a nearby Victorian bed and breakfast and settled into the landmark building's Drawing Room. Mrs. Brighton, the proprietress, wished them 'good evening' and left them to continue their affairs in private.
The men waited and watched. An aphrodisiac spiked champagne had been served to only these four young ladies at the graduation cotillion. The slow-building and long-lasting potion now kicked in. Its delayed reaction turned the supposed staid post-soiree gathering into an unruly mini-rave.
Elisha lay against Ned as they reclined in an overstuffed upholstered chair. She wiggled in his lap, her dark skin showing a flush as she sought Ned's amorous attentions. Her canoodling was interrupted by one of the other couples.
The first couple stood to room center near a long, wide padded hassock. Her chaperoning young alpha male zipped open her prom gown, exposing her frilly lingerie. He tossed the removed dress aside.
She took his cue and giddily strip danced out of her bra and panties, leaving her stockings, heels, coiffed hairdo, and jewelry intact.
Her alpha male escort laid her partially clothed but erogenously exposed body on the bench. He dropped his pants and exposed his rampant black cock. Mounting up on her spread hips and thighs, he swiftly penetrated her pussy. She cried out at the piercing and careened all the while he fucked her.
Elisha continued squirming in Ned's lap as they reclined. Her face and suckling lips pressed his neck, as his hands swept across her gowned hips and bare shoulders, petting her, building her emotions until it would be their turn.
He lifted her face and pointed it towards the second couple in action at room center, laying her head sideways on his chest.
"You're missing the show. Keep watch, see, and feel the other lovers' passions."
The sequential strip and fuck performances revealed each debutante had worn racy undies beneath the ball gowns. They had anticipated some intercourse with their escorts, hoping for an affectionate private fuck with the young black alpha male studs. This semi-public chemical-induced orgy wasn't foreseen.
The couples cuddled before and after their turns in the surrounding divans, snuggling and watching. The third couple cried out their orgasms and retired to their chair.
They all turned their focus to Ned and Elisha, the last couple and the only interracial pair. Ned's libido was driven to the max by the sexy sights and Elisha's amorous aphrodisiac fueled squirming in his lap. Her gown covered ass rubbed almost continuously against his cock, which was now uncomfortably swollen and constrained in the tuxedo pants.
They moved to center stage. Overwrought Ned was as much of a gentleman as possible when he briskly stripped Elisha out of her clothes. He dropped his pants and pressed her to her knees for some oral foreplay.
He heard the admiring remarks from the watching ebony girls, murmured comments on their first view of a white cock, or rather a pink one to some. He heard their thoughts on how the light skin tones brought to light the textured shaft's veins and the circumcised purple knob. It sounded a lot like a college art study.
Fully erect in Elisha's mouth, he drew her off and laid her on the cassock bench. His saliva wet cock lined up in full readiness and probed her dark-skinned labia. Her moisture flowed and they were both raring to go.
He plunged her depths and it was heavenly: snug, warm, and wet. He pumped quickly in his hyper-aroused state and relieved his balls of their pent up sperm.
The shared group couplings were accomplished and each man led his half-naked date to their individual bedrooms for sexual continuations.
Upstairs, Ned removed Elisha's lacy leftovers, climbed them both into bed, and resumed the lazy petting.
When he felt revived enough, he pulled her into a down doggy stance on the mattress. She turned her head sideways, pressing a cheek to the pillows, and lifted her wide black butt in the air.
He drilled in, focused only on his own pleasure. The domination scenario increased her angst and her uttered vocalizations unknowingly boosted Ned's machismo. He could have selfishly ignored her grunts of discomfort but instead, he gave in and diddled her clit. She peaked when he did.
As they cuddled in the afterglow, Elisha expressed her gratitude for being Ned's selection.
"I'm glad you picked me and not my twin sister."
Ned raised a quizzical eyebrow. She gave him a little dismissive hand wave, challenging his denial.
"Oh, come now. Didn't you notice? The other one with big boobs like mine?"
Ned had noticed the big boobs on another pretty debutante candidate but hadn't made the connection. His mind filled with future TWA Freewill Weekend possibilities, an interracial ménage a trois with the buxom ebony siblings. It perked his libido just imaging the pair sharing his cock.
It perked his libido enough to raise up his orgasmic need, and he rolled atop the immediately available sister and quenched his sudden lust in her cunt.
Morning brought more little cuddles before descending to breakfast on the rear sun porch. The surrounding backyard hedges shielded it from prying neighborhood eyes.
The men wore terrycloth waist wraps, the girls wore short translucent slips, nipples shadowing through. No panties; those had been forfeited last night to the alpha males as souvenirs.
Mrs. Brighton had returned earlier, fixed a traditional Southern breakfast of poached eggs, grits with bacon bits, and toast. She removed herself to the pallor and neatly hung the discarded gowns in clothes bags for collection by the pretty ladies when they exited her home later in the morning. It was her usual cleanup duty when hosting the annual well-paying TWA contingent. The extra money bought her silence and generated repeat business. She was not a gossip.
