Nothing is as absurd as a wet cunt by the undisguised whim of someone younger than you, in age, size and even mentally. An innocent face, that young boy with scrawny body and the constant need for physical contact mixed with inordinate attention.
Axel was all that and I, the one who lived in the absurd; if I say that he was evolving I would be lying, He really ran over me like a truck, one day I was bored as in any shift on the third floor of the library and the next one, my mind was debating between what were the intentions of that boy and my urges.
He was only 3 years younger than me, but I must call him a "kid" because that's how my eyes perceived him, black women usually seem older than white boys, a powerful contrast. He was barely 50 kg and his height was just enough to reach my breasts, nothing more. Me, on the other hand, always big, a bit of genetics and black heritage, nice ass. big and firm to grab, 36D breasts that did not stop growing, and by that moment, they began to show me that I had zero control over what was happening with my nipples, their hardness did not correspond only to temperature changes but directly to the proportion of lust with which he saw me.
It was something that did not happen to me even with my boyfriend at that moment, of course, with direct stimulation I reacted, but Axel, just by appearing in the carpeted room, forced me to tighten my legs, forced to cover as much as I could of my big breasts with my coat and put my lips together (downthere) to answer only what was necessary and not to put him under my desk to recite all the formulas while he ate my black, foreign and superior pussy....
The idea of being unattainable for him but at the end serving him in such a primitive, instinctive and sexist way. To be just a supply of liquids: the one that would come out of my pussy because he was raping my clit, the one that would come out of my mouth if I had to stick him in a corner for 5 minutes to suck his white, pink, perfect cock because that would be the only way he would stop molesting me, and finally, the one that would come out of my breasts if he decided I should feed him just because he was white, minor and had everything but a black one.
He was from an excellent family, he even had a chauffeur, I never met his parents, but by the way he acted and what he wore, you could easily deduce that he was a rich kid from a cradle; capricious and one of those that everything they ask for is for yesterday, he can't stand a "no" or a "for later". That trait made me desperate, because I have a fixation with pleasing (in any sense), but it also bothers me a lot that they do not understand that everything has a limit, that there are times when things can not be as he wanted, at the time he wanted. I think he reached a point where in his mind there was only him and there was no -but- for whatever he wanted, and to my misfortune, what he always wanted was me.
I started helping him with small consultations on specific math problems, then it evolved to private lessons in the library study rooms, and finally, to classes in college classrooms after my cheerleading practice; He thought he owned my time, and if I told him I couldn't, he manipulated me that I couldn't pass the entrance exam, that I had no one else to help him and a million other silly things; which in the end were not so silly because I always gave in, telling myself that no more, that I had to make him understand that I had other things to do, my own studies, my relationship and my life. But that only fed his selfishness, it made all his needs seem urgent and it killed me with morbid curiosity that he needed me that way, that I tried to push him away or diminish him and he didn't want to; I got so wet every time I told him it would be the last time and he didn't pay attention to me, he just wouldn't look at my face, he would see my breasts like a hyena, quiet but ready to attack. And just that is what kept me and keeps me in the line of fire to this day, that he never attacked completely, never decided to take what he didn't know was already his; because my pussy was totally wet and lubricated for him to penetrate it against the wall, to press my breasts against the library counter and make me his little black whore, the kind that are cheap and even free. The kind that need so much to be fucked that they get on all fours if you ask them just by looking at them and when you cum inside them they don't even clean themselves because they want to be that dirty in their body and mind for several hours.
One day we were after six in the afternoon in one of the study rooms and it was time to finish the class, as usual, his girlfriend was already outside waiting for him, they used to go to the gardens (probably to touch each other) or whatever. He did not get the exercise, an iteration that was not implemented and while we were waiting for the result of his super expensive HP calculator, he began to prick me with the eraser of his pencil on my arm, I looked at him and asked him if he was very bored or had nothing else to do; he kept pricking me, his girl outside, behind my back behind the wall with the glazed half. Prick after prick he approached the center, I just watched him and gently asked him to stop, another and another and another. He slid the tip to the middle of my breasts and plunged it in, clearly the pencil was stuck between my mountains of flesh exactly as it would have been if he stuck his cock in; I saw his winning face, it was perfectly as he had imagined. I demanded him to take it out, his girlfriend outside and I was not his toy; he looked me in the eyes and gave me no, calm but emphatic, and there I felt the first shiver, I hate enormously to be told no but I enjoy it as much as my crotch gets wet when they don't obey me. I repeated:
-Axel, take out your pencil."
- "No!"
