Oh God, I could feel his thick cock beginning to press against me. He had greased me with K-Y lotion all over my asshole and his cock, and now I was on my hands and knees about to receive him.
His cock head slid against my ass cheeks, seeking that warm, special spot. He moved it upwards until it caught the my crack, and a slight gasp left my parted lips as I felt it pushing. I arched my back as his strong, calloused hands found a better grip on my hips, and my calves raised off of the bed, my black 5" spiked high heels pointing upwards.
"Oooooohhh," I moaned, the cock head puncturing me. This man was the epitome of my dream lover. A 54 year-old black man with the physique and stamina of a man half his age, Marcus was virile, aggressive, and completely dominant with me. He knew what he wanted from me, and he took it. Standing 6 foot-five, 235 well-muscled pounds, with an exaggerated divers' build and an enormous cock, I melted with lust when we were introduced by a mutual photographer friend, who was at that moment shooting video and still photos of our session in Marcus' bedroom. That was just a few a hours ago. Now here I was, in Marcus' bed, dressed to kill in my black lingerie and full makeup. I was about to be fucked like no other of the many men I had had sex with had ever done.
I let my feet drop over his calves as he pushed into me. He was so strong. My asshole stretched grudgingly, stretching out and over his hot, iron-hard cock. A full, true, 12 inches long, and almost 7 inches around, Marcus could easily hurt me without even trying. Instead, he patiently entered me, inch by lovely inch, letting me relax and adjust to him. I knew before we were through, he'd be hammering me like the slut that I truly am.
"AAAAAHH, MY GOD," I burst out. The camera shutter clicked away as my eyes closed tightly and my mouth opened wide, the full force of Marcus' entry being caught on audio tape. "OH GOD, you're SO BIG!"
One of Marcus' big hands slid up onto my back, pushing me down onto my chest. My hands now freed from holding me up, I reached around behind me and used my fingers to spread my ass open as wide as I possibly could to ease his thrust into my very depths. The K-Y lotion made it hard to get a grip, and I had to constantly reposition my fingers close to his cock. I felt him shift behind me, leaning forward over my back, one hand pushing me down, the other cupped over my shoulder, holding me tightly in place to take him into my body. His cock slid in deeper, deeper, deeper, and I could feel him plowing all the way up to my stomach. I let out a cry of pain as he bumped against my tailbone, but he effortlessly shifted his angle just slightly, still driving mercilessly forward, into my bowels and beyond. For a moment I lost my breath, no sound coming out of my mouth, and I thought I would faint if he went any deeper. Just then, I felt his ball sack bang against mine.
"How does that feel?" I heard him ask in his deep, husky voice, his breath in my ear.
"Oh, oh, YES!" I managed.
"Stay right there," he said, raising back up. He grabbed hold of my hips again, and began to very slowly pull the dong back out of my ass, which grudgingly gave it up. I felt like I was being pulled inside out. He felt so good!
* * * * *
When Jack the photographer suggested we go meet this friend of his, I was willing. Jack and I had been to bed together several times, and although we were just friends now, he still introduced me to friends of his in the video business on occasion. "You've never met a stud like Marcus before, trust me," he said.
"You know I do, Jack," I said. "If you say this guy is hung, well, I believe you. And you know how I feel about black men."
We drove to Marcus' house in the suburbs, a beautiful, wooded estate with an outdoor pool and Jacuzzi. Marcus had just gotten out of the pool, and I could clearly see the outline of something wonderful in his Speedos. Introductions were made, drinks were poured, the arrangement was discussed, and within one half hour I was in the bathroom changing into my outfit and applying makeup while Jack set up his equipment in the master bedroom.
When I strutted out in my heels, Jack immediately started shooting. Marcus was laying on the edge of the bed, waiting for me, still in his swimsuit. I knew why I was there, so I went directly to him. As we discussed, I was to submit completely to this man, who would be fucking me for most of the afternoon. According to Jack, Marcus could stay up for several hours, even after multiple climaxes.
He pulled me to him, onto the bed. I was rolled onto my back, and he lifted my legs over his shoulders and began to eat me, far from gently. His long rough tongue snaked across and into my hole, making me squeal with delight. Pushing my thighs back and lifting my ass off the bed, he extended his tongue and fucked me with it, making me bicycle the air and moan loudly. Suddenly he stopped, dropping me back onto the bed, and quickly inserted first 2 fingers, then three, then four. We looked into each others' eyes as he gauged my ability to take him. Then he smiled.
"I believe he can take it, Jack, don't you think? he asked.
"Let me see it," Jack answered, clicking off pictures.
Marcus looked down at me, the smile replaced with one of dominance. It was a look I had seen many times on different men, and I knew what it meant. I was in for a long, hot, sweaty day.
He got up, taking me by the hand, and walked to the foot of the bed. Jack had a close-up camera sitting there. Marcus guided me to my knees and instructed me to pull down his suit. I gently pulled the tight fabric over his member and down his legs. Then he put one big hand on my head, and pulled me onto his cock, which he held up with the other. He wasn't completely hard yet, but I could tell he was huge, with a large, defined mushroom head covered by a thick, loose foreskin, perched on top of a glistening, veiny shaft. His hold tightened in my hair, and his other hand dropped loosely by his side while Jack zoomed in for a close-up.
Marcus gradually came up, filling my mouth so full that I couldn't keep my teeth off of it. I gagged when the cock was pushed against the back of my mouth, and gasped for breath when he pulled back. I wasn't sucking him - I couldn't. He was simply fucking my mouth, and letting me know exactly who was in charge. It was a "power" thing that some men do, especially when they're paying for the sex or when they're being filmed. It makes them feel more macho, I guess, and it makes me feel very subservient, tightly controlled, and extremely feminine. Just the way I wanted to feel.
Looking up at him, I could see him smiling. I fought back the gag reflex as long as I could, hoping he would either stop or come before I choked. When he began to breathe heavily, I knew it would soon be the latter. The smile slowly left his face, and the controlling leer returned. His yes began to glaze over, and his strokes slower. I tasted the first drops of his precum oozing over my tongue, and I grabbed the base of his cock and his balls and gently milked him until he unleashed his load in waves of groaning, gulping excitement.
His cum was hot and strong, almost bitter. He wasn't paying to have it wasted, but the camera likes a good cumshot, so I let some of the load run out and down my chin. The rest I swallowed. He seemed to be pleased, and slowly unwound his fingers from my hair as he fought to get control of his breath. When he did, he surprised me by leaning down and kissing me full on the mouth, holding my face in his hands. It was actually a very tender and sensuous kiss, and I began to think there was more to this man than I had thought.
When he pulled back, he looked into my eyes, and I felt a shiver run up my spine. He took my hands and pulled me to my feet, then in one smooth motion, swept me up like a bride, and carried me to his bed.
* * * * *
