Coeds Bbc Discovery

Coed's BBC Discovery

Summary:

Coed fucks black guy to pay off boyfriend's debt and....

Note 1:

This is an

April Fool's Day

story, because of the multiple ending choices. Feel free to share which one you like the best.

Note 2:

Thanks to

Tex Beethoven

for editing this story.

I was a senior in college, and I'd just returned home from classes, when I learned some very alarming news.

Ben, my boyfriend of just over two years, and the only guy I'd ever had intercourse with, was in the kitchen, a bottle of whiskey on the table... no glass... which was very unlike him... and he was clearly rattled.

Concerned, I asked, "Ben, what's wrong?"

"I don't even know where to begin," he said with a heavy sigh. Ben was ordinarily an outgoing, vibrant young man, and he was very well off, having made a lot of money by developing a gaming app back when he was twenty.

"How about from the start?" I suggested, trying to lighten the mood, pulling out a chair beside him and sitting down. "What's going on?"

"Honey, I really fucked up," he said, looking like he was about to cry. One thing I loved about him was he didn't hide his feelings like most men did. He wasn't some crybaby or Mommy's boy, but he showed emotion. He cried during sad movies, when his father had passed a few months ago, and when we found a dog on the side of the road that some asshole had left for dead. He tried to save him, and although he wasn't successful, it showed me what kind of man he really was.

"Honey, what did you do?" I asked, a little frightened by his behaviour. "Whatever it is, we can get past it." Having been cheated on in both of the semi-serious relationships I'd been in before Ben (because I wouldn't give up my virginity), I was immediately worried that he too had cheated on me, which I likely couldn't get past.

"For the past few months..." he began, and my heart sank, because instantly I knew... he

had

cheated. I'd given him my virginity and became an insatiable slut for him... I discovered I loved sex... loved sucking dick (which I

had

done with my first two boyfriends, but for them only reluctantly)... and I'd come to love being a little slutty: talking dirty, being called names, taking facials, doing a couple cum walks while we were in New Orleans for Mardi Gras, and even several wild public sex encounters during the week we'd spent at one of the Hedonism Resorts in Jamaica. And I'd done all of that with Ben.

Now I should note that I come from a very religious family. My dad was a church minister, my brother was going into the same field... the wrath of God had always been threatened at me and my siblings for every little thing... which actually made me resent God, instead of drawing me to him... especially because the double gender standard was never more prominent than in our church. (You probably know the drill: the short version is that the only good girls and women are the ones who go along with whatever bullshit their men subject them to.)

So I was a good girl.

And until Ben... I was convinced I would remain virginal until marriage... but after a year of being together, and he'd never pressured me to have sex (by then I was giving him daily blow jobs, often multiple times a day), I decided to give him my virginity.

It was amazing!

Romantic!

Intense!

And it taught me that when my church told me sex is sinful, it was all lies.

No way would God call something so pleasurable a sin.

No way.

"Are you about to confess you cheated on me?" I asked, needing to know right away.

"No, no, no!" he shook his head franticly, and looked into my eyes for the first time since I'd gotten home.

I gave a huge sigh of relief. If it wasn't cheating, then we could get past it. "Thank goodness! That's the one thing I couldn't forgive you for."

He sighed.

Oddly, my words didn't comfort him. "I'm serious," I said, putting my hand on his leg, "whatever it is, we can get through it together."

"I'm broke," he said.

"Broke?" I repeated. That was astonishing news, since we'd lived rather lavishly since I moved in with him. He had a condo on the ocean. He was very well off. I didn't know that when I met him, I'm no good digger, but it had been awfully nice not to be stressed about money, like I'd been all through my freshman year, when I'd worked almost full time while carrying a full load of classes.

So he really had been my knight in shining armour, since I'd been really burning out and thinking seriously about going back home after my freshman year. I couldn't keep up with the rigours of schooling and working to survive.

"Well, it's worse than broke, actually. I'm twenty thousand dollars in debt," he said, again avoiding eye contact.

"That isn't the end of the world," I said. Twenty grand was a lot, don't get me wrong, but with his assets, he could easily get a loan for that much.

"No, it kind of is," he said, exhaling another heavy sigh. I was pretty sure he'd sighed more during the past three minutes than he had during the entire time we'd been together.

"Then sell some of your assets," I suggested. He had at least a few hundred thousand worth of collectables.

"They won't accept money," he said.

"What?" I asked, that not making sense. And who was 'they'?

"I've been gambling lately," he said, looking me in the eye again. "A lot."

"Okay," I said tentatively. He wasn't really addressing the question in my head.

"And these men are very ruthless," he continued.

"And they won't accept your money?" I asked. Usually, no matter how bad people were, they always took money.

"No," he said, as tears began to flow down his face. "I really fucked up."

"Worse than losing lots of money gambling?" I asked, thinking this was really stupid of him, and it explained a few times he'd been out late recently, but money was just money.

"It was a poker game, and I had a perfect hand, a can't lose hand," he said.

"But you still lost?"

"I didn't have enough money to match the raise, and Mr. Big suggested something nefarious," he said, looking so guilty.

I thought to myself,

Mr. Big, really? Do some people call themselves things like that? You couldn't make this shit up.

"What did he suggest?"

Ben sighed.

He looked away from me.

He whispered a single word that shocked me to the core, and at first, I hoped I hadn't heard it right, "You."

"Did you say me?" I asked, after a few seconds.

"I had a can't lose hand," he repeated, looking up at me. "It was a no risk gamble."

"But you lost?"

"Yeah," he sighed.

"How?" I asked, needing to know. We sometimes played penny ante poker with friends, I knew the game. "What was your can't lose hand you bet me on?"

"I had four jacks," he said.

That was a good hand. Not unbeatable, but it had a ridiculously high win percentage.

He sighed. Again.

"What did he have?" I asked.

"A straight flush," he said, sighing yet again.

"Fuck," I sighed; that was some really bad luck. Although it didn't excuse him putting me up as collateral, even though I wasn't completely sure what that even entailed.

"Yeah," he sighed.

There was a long silence. He obviously didn't want to say any more, so somehow it had to be even worse than what he'd already revealed.

Finally, I asked, "if they won't take money, then what exactly does it mean that Mr. Big won me?"

"You don't want to know," he said, his voice sounding totally defeated.

"No, I do. I want to know

exactly

what situation you've landed me in," I said, getting a little annoyed. "I understand slavery is still legal in India, Pakistan, and various other countries. Will I have to move to one of them and be his indentured servant for the rest of my life?"

"No! It's nothing anywhere

nearly

that bad! But it's still bad, and you don't have to do it," he said, again looking into my eyes.

"And if I don't comply with something I never agreed to, then what happens to you?" I asked, still unsure of what this would entail, but I'm not stupid. I was likely going to have to do something sexual with Mr. Big... whoever he was.

"Don't worry about it," he said, again looking away.

"You got me into this, so tell me what's at stake," I demanded. "What will happen to my boyfriend if I refuse to go along with whatever I'm supposed to do." I was finally getting pissed off... the shock and disbelief of his getting me into this whatever-it-was now fading.

"Likely a broken leg or something," he said, "these guys don't play by the rules."

"Then why the fuck were you gambling with them?" I asked, although that no longer mattered.

"I don't know," he sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"It doesn't matter," I was the one who sighed now. "So what exactly do I have to do to get you out of this?"

"I don't want you to do it," he said.

"Too fucking late for that, isn't it," I said with some spite, standing up. "What do I have to do so they won't maim you?"

"Spend an evening in his house," he whispered, still avoiding eye contact.

"And

fuck

him?" I asked bluntly. "I have to go into a stranger's house and

fuck

the guy?"

"Yeah," he said so sheepishly, he barely seemed like a man.

"So, if I go out and

fuck

some guy who calls himself Mr. Big, your debt is paid?" I asked, repeatedly emphasizing the word 'fuck' out of spite. I still couldn't believe he'd done this!

"Yeah," he said, tears streaming down his face, making me instantly soften.

"And you promise never to gamble again?" I asked.

"Never," he said, looking up at me shamefacedly.

"Then set it up," I said, figuring that was the only solution . I loved Ben, even if he was a fucking idiot for what he did... since he was

my

idiot. And sex was just sex. I could whore myself out once... for him.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Fucking set it up," I snapped. "I'll go and fuck this Mr. Big for you this once. Just once! If you ever pull this shit again, you're on your own. Is that understood?"

"Yes, I'm so sorry," he said, still looking overwhelmed with guilt.

I softened. "I know, I know. Let's just get this over with, so we can move forward."

"Okay," he nodded.

I bent down and kissed him. "And this isn't cheating, since I'm doing it for you. I hope you know how much I love you."

"I know," he said, as I reached for his dick. For reasons I couldn't explain, I was suddenly feeling very horny.

"Now get on the phone and set it up, and then meet me in the bedroom," I ordered.

"Really?"

"Yeah, you can start repaying your debt to me with your tongue," I said... since that was the only way he really got me off. Even though we'd done some crazy shit together, I hadn't ever come during intercourse.

"Okay," he nodded.

Thirty minutes later, I had a date for tomorrow night... and had come on my boyfriend's face.

I had no idea what I was in for, nor did I think this was remotely a good idea, but I'd do anything for love.

.....

The next night, dressed in my college cheerleader outfit, mocha pantyhose and no bra or panties, at the request of Mr. Big, Ben drove me to his house... actually, his mansion... which made Ben's very nice house on the oceanfront where we lived look like a bedroom.

I was greeted at the door by a big-busted white woman wearing a sexy black and white maid's outfit... which I'd never seen except in a picture before. She was displaying acres of cleavage, and her skirt was so short that her thigh high black stockings were completely in view. She obviously wasn't wearing a bra, but at least she was wearing panties, which I knew because I could see them.

"Come in," she offered warmly.

Ben and I stepped into the luxurious mansion.

"Please remove your shoes and take a seat. Master will be with you soon," she said.

"Master?" I repeated, shocked by the word.

"Yes, we call him Master," she confirmed, looking at me like that wasn't strange at all. Nor was the fact that one of the prettiest women I'd ever seen in real life was dressed like a Halloween slut.

Already this was getting weird. As we were left shoeless and alone, Ben watching the maid walk away, as did I, since she was utterly beautiful, I asked, "Are we in Wonderland?"

"Not yet Alice, but you're about to be," a deep voice said from behind me.

I turned my head around to see a man dressed in a full suit, easily in his late forties or even fifties, bald, black, and utterly handsome, strolling towards me. This man exuded confidence! "Uh, hi," I greeted, instantly feeling nervous.

Was I here to fuck a black man?

A black man about the same age as my parents?

What had Ben got me into?

"So you're Belle," he said, his southern accent and deep voice surprisingly sexy.

"I am," I nodded, trying to appear casual, even though I was incredibly nervous.

"She's even prettier in person, Ben," the man I assumed was Mr. Big said.

Ben didn't say anything.

I asked, "He showed you pictures of me?"

"Yes, it was part of the deal," Mr. Big said. "The ones of you in the red lingerie were particularly sexy."

I turned to Ben and glared.

A couple months previously, he convinced me to pose for some sexy pictures for him. I agreed. He bought me some all-red lingerie with stockings... he loved stockings... and took a few dozen pictures of me posing... including a few with my legs spread to showcase my shaved pussy, and many of my small breasts and my very hard nipples.

"I hope your white hairless pussy is even prettier than in those pictures too," Mr. Big said.

Somehow, and perhaps irrationally, this pissed me off much more than his staking my virtue on a bet. That was a risk that had really looked like a sure thing that he'd nevertheless lost... but showing anyone those photos had been by choice. And a betrayal.

So, with anger fuelling my actions, I responded, as I looked directly back to the good looking, well built, black man, "Oh, yes! My white pussy is to die for."

This made him roar with laughter. "I like that, I like that a lot! Come with me, pretty girl."

He took my hand and led me upstairs and down a long hallway.

Ben didn't follow.

I should have been terrified. I was going into a stranger's bedroom to have sex. I was about to have sex with a black man. Now I have nothing against black men, I didn't buy into the stereotypes. Neither about their so-called hood life, or their supposed huge dicks. I imagined that like everything else, the truth was somewhere in the middle.

That said, was he called Mr. Big because of his size, his power, or perhaps from what he was packing underneath those tailored pants? I was about to find out, and a growing part of me wanted that very much.

Ben was a fine lover. I mean so far as I knew he was, since I'd only ever been with him. His dick was small, just over four inches, and I'd never once come from penetration, but he had a great tongue, and he knew how to get me off, often multiple times, while dining between my legs.

But I'd be lying if I said I'd never wondered what a bigger dick would feel like.

I watched porn.

I read erotica.

I was curious.

Very curious.

I was pretty sure I was about to find out.

Reaching the massive bedroom, with a king-sized bed, he led me to the bed, and immediately beside it, he placed his big strong hands on my shoulders and gently, but firmly, guided me to my knees.

I liked the direct approach. "Oh my," I said, as I looked at his crotch, where a big bulge was prevalent, and then up at his face.

"You know why you're here, right?" he asked.

"I do," I nodded, looking up at him.

"And will you be a good obedient girl?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," I nodded, looking back at his crotch, and addressing him in a subservient manner.

"In this room, you're to call me Master, is that clear?" he said firmly, his deep voice and confident demeanour a real turn-on... one of the reasons I fell for Ben... his confidence... until yesterday, in any case.

(You may wonder how this man dominating me was different from my family's sexist attitudes, and at least to me, the answer was simple. Except for setting the boundaries that I had, I'd always been slightly submissive in the bedroom, and I got off on it. It was all the rest of the time that I objected to male chauvinism.)

"Yes Master," I said, moving my hand to his crotch and giving it a squeeze. "Oh my God!"

"It's likely a lot bigger than your white boyfriend's," he said knowingly... although I had no idea how he would know that.

"Way bigger," I said, as I felt the big fat dick and was instantly curious what it would look like.

"Take it out," he instructed, "if you're impressed just from feeling it, I want to see the look in your eyes when you actually

see

it."

"Yes Master," I said, the honorific flowing off my tongue so smoothly, as I surprised myself by eagerly fishing out his dick... I sure as hell really

did

want to see it!

I unbuckled his belt.

I undid his pants.

I pulled his zipper down.

I tugged his slacks down to his ankles.

His dick was now perfectly contained in a tight pair of boxer briefs that left little to the imagination.

"Wow," I breathed, as I admired just the outline of his obviously very large dick. "Should I keep going, Master?"

"Go right ahead," he allowed grandiosely. "White bitches

love

this big black dick."

I reached out and pulled his underwear down.

"I imagine... soooooo!" I gasped with a major overwhelming response, as his huge dick was suddenly directly before me. Only halfway hard, it already looked majestic. So much bigger than Ben's. They were scarcely even the same

species

of dick.

"Like?" he asked, in a tone of pure confidence.

"Wow," was my response, not saying yes or no, but not really needing to... I was obviously completely blown away.

"Most white bitches who've ever had white boyfriends are completely in awe of my dick, and of any black dick," he bragged.

"It

is

very impressive," I said, unable to stop myself from reaching out to stroke the beautiful dick.

"But do you like it?" he repeated.

"Yeah," I answered in a lustful daze, as I used both hands to properly stroke it, his fat member way too massive to stroke with only one hand.

"Show me how much, my sexy white slut," he said. "Take it in your mouth."

Being called a slut was something that had always pissed me off. Or actually, guys calling

any

girl a slut pissed me off, since I hated the double standard of the exalted stud versus the despicable slut. But for some reason, the way he said it, so matter of factly, and with such authority, turned me on. Also, from the way he said it, I sensed he considered sluts to be on the 'exalted' side of the equation. Not better than men, but no worse, either. Except he was still undoubtedly in charge.

Without a thought, I opened wide and took his huge dick into my mouth.

"There you go, pretty girl, wrap those pink lips around my black dick," he ordered.

I don't know why, since Ben never said anything at all whenever we had sex, but this black man's words, which weren't all that naughty or degrading, were so authoritative that they turned me on. I

wanted

to suck his dick, I

wanted

to be good for him... I even kind of wanted to be a slut for him.

I'd originally agreed to this for Ben. I didn't fathom I'd enjoy it at all... but here I was with a big, black dick in my mouth, and I was already wondering what it would feel like deep inside my tiny pussy, stretching it in ways Ben's never could.

"Mmmmmmm," I moaned, freely letting him know I was enjoying this, as I slowly bobbed on his dick, taking just a couple of inches inside my mouth.

"That's good, baby girl," he moaned.