Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
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As ever when the midnight hour heralds the dawn of another new year I enjoy a solitary celebration sitting in my cozy apartment, drink in hand, and reflect what has passed and speculate on the maybes to come.
Whilst some may think that to have reached nearly a half century of birthdays and still be an uncommitted single without a life partner to share one's joys and struggles is something to be pitied. Should anyone be foolish enough to say that to me then I will politely counter that there is a better way to live one's life without taking on the burdens and responsibilities of someone who, in all probability, didn't live up to the rosy expectations of youth. No, I need nobody's pity for my life has turned out rather well and as time goes by I have even less cause for regrets.
I graduated nearly 30 years ago with a first in Business Studies and then gained my Masters shortly thereafter. My adolescent dream was to go into medicine but maybe I was not as smart as I thought myself to be and so the world of business attracted my interest instead. However, my interest for medicine was not to be denied, with my studies completed and my diploma firmly held in hand I applied and succeeded in gaining a post with a London Teaching Hospital within their finance department. The experience I gained in my first proper job, spent 'learning the ropes', held me in good stead and I have steadily and surely improved my position over the years by moving on when I've accurately gauged the time to be right and to go and work for other organisations, usually with a promotion.
Indeed, a measure of my standing and expertise within the world of Medical finance is that I am regularly being head-hunted by competitors and encouraged to jump ship and transfer my loyalties elsewhere. But, for the moment, I am content with my present lot as Finance Director for a prestigious Private Health Trust based in Harley Street, doing a job that entails frequent overseas travel and at the same time pays me a very agreeable salary as part of a generous package. I regard myself as being the epitome of a Professional woman.
However, whilst I may have successfully climbed the ladder of professional success, life hasn't been without its downside for living is not all about work and in the past I have had quite a few disappointments with relationships that had resulted in me being very suspicious and cautious whenever a specimen of the opposite sex has wandered into my social frame. I pointedly say 'had' for it has been over the past couple of years that things have radically changed and the improvement in quality of my 'downtime' has increased exponentially. To explain:
Growing up I was no different in satisfying my needs and urges than any other teenager/student/undergraduate. The years up to and including Uni were a bit of a substance-fuelled haze and sex was frequent and rapid (sometimes I even knew the name of the boy involved) but it was never deemed satisfactory as far as I was concerned. Invariably the boy involved would fire off before I had even gotten fully aroused and if he was one who did have any staying power then either he had little idea of his way around a woman's body and how to provide a modicum of pleasure on his journey or, worse, he had a small penis that was incapable of providing that pleasure. No, my sex life was not a great success and my experiences to date had given me no great enthusiasm to explore further. Thankfully I had a great circle of girlfriends and took much solace in my self-imposed celibacy sharing with them the injustices and inadequacies of the opposite sex. Indeed, some of the counselling sessions that I had with one or two of them introduce me to the world of Sappho but the emotions generated during those gentle couplings were not sufficiently strong enough for me to then declare myself a signed-up Lesbian; it was nice though.
Over the years my workload and responsibilities increased in a satisfactory manner which was in direct contrast to any satisfaction gained from my equally increasing sex drive. I took pleasure from an increasing collection of toys, dildoes; vibrators; beads. I even invested in a 'Magic Wand'. They all provided physical stimulation but the pleasure bestowed was nothing when compared when my comforters were used in conjunction with my other salvation, the Internet; the repository of a world of imagination and suggestion.
I cannot recall how long ago it was that my trawling around this exciting world and visiting different sites led me to ones that predominately featured sex between white women and black men. Whenever, it was from that moment my interest in black cock was sparked and I increasingly sought out websites that catered for the 'genre' and found myself constantly aroused at the thought of being fucked by some of the magnificent specimens I was viewing on-line. My fantasies were further fuelled by my purchase of another vibrator; this time I chose to buy one that was big, long, fat and black. Oh, the times I enjoyed the company of my new black friend.
It was a short hop from indulging my fantasies to deciding to investigate the real thing. Everything I had viewed on line only fed the conviction that black men were not only better endowed but from what I had seen, albeit allowing for a little artistic licence, had impressive staying power and had the potential to satisfy my needs. However, I was not going to let myself into a situation which I couldn't control or rush into areas such as anonymous chat rooms where, who knows, what dangers might lurk. No, I would approach this endeavour with every precaution; with the same manner and cautions that I would apply to any new business in my professional life. After all, this would be a major project and I needed to minimise risk to maximise success.
Having decided to go down this path the first task was to set out my requirements which was fairly straightforward; my BBC had to be attached to a similar professional or other well educated, financially comfortable person.
