The story you are about to read includes very explicit reference to sex. If you are not old enough to read this story where you live, or if you object to frank language about sex, please read no further.
If, however, you enjoy sexual fantasies and a bit of humor along the way, please read on!
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This story really needs Chapter One to make any sense. If you don't read chapter one first, this one won't make a lot of sense, and all the humor will get lost. Please read chapter one.
But, just in case you're really stubborn, and refuse to read chapter one, here's a VERY quick summary. In that chapter, two escaped convicts, "Kris" and "T" came to hide in my house for nearly a week.
During that time, they fucked me repeatedly, and by the end of the week, I was believing whatever Kris said. He told me that, now that I was a "black cock slut," I would never again be able to say no to a black man. In addition, he told me that black men can smell a black cock slut any time they're around, and that they use "code" to tell them they want to fuck. The "code" is something like "Can I help you?" or "Need a hand with that?" (This, of course, is something he made up, but I believed it, I was so spent, so receptive after a week of earth shaking orgasms.) Kris taught me how to respond to these questions, and taught me that men who use the code expect immediate responses.
That's how I found myself in the situation you'll read about in this story.
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Chapter Two
It was good to have Richard and the boys home, though it felt a little funny for the first few days to be going around the house with clothes on. I had gotten used to being naked. Rather liked it, actually.
I was terrified, though, of going out of the house. What if I ran into a black man who wanted me at the wrong time? In the wrong place? Unable to say no, what would happen? I limited my trips out to places I could be pretty sure wouldn't expose me to any risk. As much as I knew I needed more black cock, I just couldn't risk getting it in the wrong place, at the wrong time!
I managed to go more than two weeks without incident. I suppose this made me a bit lazy. I stopped thinking, stopped planning, and then, on a Wednesday like any other Wednesday, I made my first mistake.
It wasn't much of a mistake. I went to the green grocer's I always go to for produce. He gets his stuff directly from local farmers, and it's much fresher than what they have in the big stores. And since it's a small place, I know everyone that works there. They're all Korean. I can hear them say, "Can I help you, lady?" without worrying that it's the code. (And they say it a lot!)
So on this particular day, I needed some fresh avocados, to make guacamole for supper. Rich really likes his guacamole, and I found out that afternoon that I was out. Jason was still in school, and I had just dropped Mike off at kindergarten. (He goes half days, in the afternoons right now.) I had a couple of hours before I had to be home or go pick up Mikey, so I hurried over to the grocer's to get the avocados.
The mistake was a simple one, I forgot to check the parking lot for other cars before going in. I had been really careful up to that point, to go in only when it there were no other customers. It's a small place, and it would be difficult to avoid a man in the store if he were already there. I locked my car and thoughtlessly rushed into the store, my mind running through the other ingredients for the guac, to make sure I had everything else I needed.
I turned to my right when I entered the store, headed for the bin where the avocados usually are, and walked right into an older black gentleman! I crashed into him so suddenly that the contents of my purse spilled on the floor. Seeing him, I hurried to pick them up and get out of the building before he could figure out what I was, but I guess the reaction must be a quick one. Before I could put my keys back in my purse, I heard, "Oh, dearie, you look like you could use a hand."
Shit! I was busted! I looked up meekly, acknowledging my wretchedness (after all, it had been more than two weeks since I'd had a decent orgasm), and said, "Yes, I certainly do. Where would you like to give it to me?"
