The Romance Writer
An E&I Acres Story 
Copyright 2002 by Stormbringer 
Revised 2009


July 2001


She took his throbbing manhood in her hands. Her bosom heaved as
the cowboy spoke, "Your beauty caused that." The muscular cowboy
picked her up in his strong arms, his lips approaching hers...

Tracy quit typing and saved her new novel, her fifteenth in four
years. The young woman was taking the romance world by storm,
writing under the pseudonym Lacy Lovelorn. Tracy
Lovelace-Hardcastle sighed as the familiar warmth spread through
her body. Getting to the sex scenes in her books always got her
all hot and bothered. Unfortunately, her husband was often away
on business and couldn't take care of her cravings, but then when
he was here, he didn't take care of her cravings either. Making
love hadn't lived up to the descriptions in the romance novels
she had gotten hooked on as a teenager. She hadn't even seen an
erection on her husband in a month and her writing had her more
aroused then usual, since spring it seemed as if she were
constantly horny.

Tracy Hardcastle sighed and left her den to take a shower. She
had to do some publicity photos for her new bosses. The little
publisher she wrote for had been bought out and absorbed by E&I
Publishing. They wanted her to do some layouts to be used in
magazine articles and promotional material. Tracy enjoyed
modeling and when dressed as her alter-ego, Lacy Lovelorn,
artists had often used her as the model for the women on the
covers of her books, they just changed her hair color to match
her characters.

Tracy had the long flowing hair and heaving bosom of her
heroines. Her hair was more reddish, then blonde and fell to curl
around her nipples. Her skin was the beautiful, pale white of
most red-heads, mostly unblemished, with just a few faint
freckles around her cheeks that gave her an innocent appearance.
She had a models thin waist and flat stomach, but her breasts and
rear-end were plumper then most models. Her breasts were large
and full, but were quite firm, high up on her chest, giving her
impressive cleavage when dressed in the bodice of a romance
heroine.

None of that was apparent as Tracy waited for her ride. She was
dressed in baggy sweats, with her hair up in a pony tail and no
make-up on. Dressed like this, men would only give her a passing
glance, before the stylists at the photo shoot transformed her
into a goddess.

The doorbell rang and Tracy answered it, finding herself staring
into a broad muscular chest as wide as her doorway. She looked up
in surprise into a handsome black face grinning down at her.
"Mrs. Lovelorn, I'm Latrell, head photographer of E&I modeling.
I'll be taking your pictures this afternoon."

Tracy felt her pulse quicken and her skin began to flush. She
felt warm and it turned warmer as she shook his hand, her little
white hand disappearing completely in his massive black one.
"Nice to meet you," she said. This man had an aura about him. Not
only was he huge, around 6'7", his very presence was
overwhelmingly masculine. She usually found New York
photographers to be weird little men, often gay, with delusions
of their own grandeur, but this man looked like a linebacker.

"Shall we go?" he asked holding out his arm.

Tracy took his arm and followed him out to a big, black limo.
Another black man, as big as Latrell got out and opened the door
for them. Tracy got in back beside Latrell and they were off.
"May I offer you a drink, Mrs. Lovelorn?" he asked.

"Just a soda, please, and call me Tracy." It was too early for
booze and Tracy liked to have a clear head when working. She
stared around the interior of the limo, her brow furrowing when
her gaze fell on Latrell's slacks. They were tented out so that
it looked like a big banana was inside his crotch. She was so
surprised by the strange bulge, she didn't notice that there was
already a small amount of clear fluid in the bottom of her Coke
glass, as he poured a can in. She took the glass and sipped it.

Tracy stared out the window at the skyline as they approached the
city. She had seen it hundreds of times, so mostly she was
staring to keep her eyes off Latrell. She was surprised to find
herself attracted to the black giant. She was uncomfortably aware
of his presence in the tiny cab of the limo. He seemed to exude
masculinity like a character from one of her books. She glanced
at his handsome face, then down to the expensive suit that must
cover an incredibly well-muscled torso, and finally down to the
bulge in his trousers that looked for the world like a huge
penis.

Tracy felt her nipples scraping against her sweatshirt. They were
hard as a rock and her panties were getting wet. By the time they
crossed the Holland tunnel and into the city, she was squirming
in her seat and thankful that they were close to their
destination. She killed time by channeling her erotic feelings
into descriptions for future books.

They traveled along the docks of New York until the limo pulled
up at a rather decrepit looking old warehouse. "Here we are,
Tracy," said Latrell, as the limo driver opened his door.

"This is it?" she asked.

"It doesn't look like much on the outside, but that applies to
most of the older buildings in the city." Tracy followed him
along the side of the warehouse to a door and waited while he
unlocked it. "Sorry it looks so desolate, but we are in the
middle of remodeling. Thats why no one is here except for my
team."

Tracy passed several rooms that looked like movie sets. Many of
the rooms just had beds, and a few had hot tubs. Some had more
elaborate sets, like jungles, beach scenes, etc. She finally saw
some more people when she entered a large room with photography
equipment set up. The walls were painted with a desert scene,
cactuses, tumbleweeds, and one wall had an old west town's main
street done in perspective. Two young girls stood by a make-up
chair. "This is Carla and Suzie. Girls this is Lacy Lovelorn,"
introduced Latrell.

"I'm a huge fan," said Suzie shaking her hand vigorously. Suzie
was a pretty young blonde.

"Nice to meet you," said Carla. She was an attractive Latino girl
with a big bubble butt.

"Girls take care of Mrs. Lovelorn for scene one. I'll be back in
an hour." Latrell watched the two girls skillfully sit Tracy in a
chair and began piling her hair up.

Latrell left the room and walked down the hall to Tyrone's
office. Tyrone's secretary wasn't at her desk, which meant she
was kneeling before him giving her special dick-tation. Latrell
let himself inside his boss's office. Sure enough the
haggard-looking blonde was swallowing maybe her thousandth load
of cum from their insatiable boss. Tyrone was pouring over the
blueprints for the remodeled building. "You can do me next," said
Latrell sitting on the couch and spreading his legs. Carol didn't
even bother standing. She crawled over to Latrell and fished his
huge cock out of his pants before starting on him. As a female
employee of E&I, she was required to service the men on demand.

"I take it our guest has arrived," stated Tyrone. He was
reluctant to take his eyes off the blueprints. He had talked
Solomon into modernizing the building. E&I Modeling wasn't just a
front for the porn industry anymore. They were getting legitimate
contracts, mostly cheesecake shots for calendars and car
magazines. They were getting semi-famous models like Jessica
Devereux. Plus, they had agents at the Miss Teen USA Pageants,
Hidden Closet, and legitimate modeling agencies in the city all
providing a steady supply of fresh young faces for the insatiable
subscribers to the E&I interracial/voyeur websites.

The new building, would have a reception area, interview rooms,
complete with casting couches, modern sets, costume design rooms,
and water coolers laced with Xcite. He couldn't wait. Tyrone put
the plans down and clicked his computer to the video-feed from
the set. "That's one hot little bitch," he said watching the two
girls doing Tracy's make-up. "I love red-heads. Seeing my black
cock going into their pale white bodies really gets me off."
Tyrone sent off an instant message to one of the controllers who
would send out an alert to subscribers to check out the new girl
on voyeurcam.com. "It looks like they're finishing up."

"Better get back then," grunted Latrell as Carol was busy
swallowing his load. "That woman on the screen is gonna do more
to make white woman go black then all of our magazines and
websites combined."

******************

"Latrell's ready, Lacy," called Suzie knocking on the door to the
dressing room.

Tracy was admiring herself in the mirror. She opened the door,
finding it difficult to get the big hoop skirt through the jam.
Latrell whistled when he saw her, which made her feel warm again.
She was dressed as an old west saloon girl, hair piled on her
head with stockings and heels. "Lets do it," said Latrell.

Tracy spent the next hour posing before the desert scenes on the
wall. One pose had her holding her skirt up and kicking the
can-can while Latrell snapped away. "These are great," he said.
"You'd be a first class model if you ever gave up writing. Now
lets bring in the male model."

"What? No one said anything abut there being a male model," she
said surprised.

"Come on in Lamar," yelled Latrell. "Yeah, we're doing some
solo's of you and then some romance shots with Lamar, just like
the covers of your books. We're doing several scenes to submit to
different magazines. Ah, here's Lamar now."

Tracy turned to look at the model. It wasn't what she expected.
Lamar wasn't a skinny pretty boy like most models. He was a
hulking brute, bigger then Latrell or any other man she had seen.
He was dressed in tight leather pants with holstered pistols, an
open vest covered a bare chest rippling with muscles, he wore a
cowboy hat over long kinky hair and he was the blackest man she
had ever seen.

"What do you think?" asked Latrell.

"He's certainly good-looking, but he's black."

"So am I, you got something against black men?"

"No, not at all," she stammered out flustered. "It's just the
character in my book is white."

"That don't matter. We ain't using this for the cover, that's for
the artist. These are just promo shots."

"Well I guess it's ok then."

"Lamar Jefferson," said the black giant towering over her when he
joined them."

"Tracy Hardcastle." He was certainly handsome, like a black Fabio
with a chiseled jaw and long curly hair that fell down his back.

"Lets get to work," said Latrell. "I'm switching to black and
white, so it'll look like those old time photo pictures." Latrell
posed them. Her sitting, with Lamar holding a rifle standing
behind her, Lamar sitting at the table with a poker hand while
she stood over him, and one of her dancing on the table as he sat
with his boots up. "These are great. Now I want to do some
romance cover shots. Tracy go up to him and put your hand on his
chest."

Tracy did, a shiver coursing through her body as her little hand
touched his rock-hard chest. He placed his hand in the small of
her back and stared into her eyes as Latrell took some pictures.
Tracy got lost in his piercing dark eyes. She never lost eye
contact as he bent her backwards, leaning over her. She was
barely aware of him undoing the top buttons of her dress and
folding the flaps back so it looked like she had the ripped
bodice common to thousands of romance novels. His eyes were
hypnotic, promising endless nights of passionate love-making.
"...Tracy, Tracy." It was Latrell talking. She broke eye contact.

"Tracy, it's time to take off your dress."

"What?" she snapped out of her trance.

"You’re wearing the knickers aren't you?" the photographer asked.
She nodded. "I want some sexier pictures. It's not like knickers
show off a lot. Let your dress fall to the floor."

"I'll help you," said Lamar. His skillful hands were already
unlacing her dress before he had finished and soon she was
wearing her old-fashioned white underwear as she stepped out of
the hoop skirt.

"Lamar, take off your shirt, but leave the hat and guns on.
Girls, get Tracy a glass of water she looks flushed."

*****************

"I've read all your books Mrs. Lovelace," said Suzie as she
removed Tracy's pirate costume.

"Call me Tracy," she mumbled still in a daze. The day had been a
blur. They had done many scenes over the last few hours. Lamar
had taken her passionately in his arms, her body rubbing his bare
chest as Latrell took the pictures. Several poses had been odd,
but she liked them. Latrell had taken many of her kneeling at
Lamar's feet, one of her looking up at him adoringly with her arm
wrapped around his thigh, and other submissive poses. It was in
one of these that she had first seen the outline of his penis. It
bulged out his leather pants, the tip nearly touching his knee,
longer even and bigger then Latrell's bulge. At first she hadn't
believed it, but then it moved under his pants and she had gasped
in amazement. After that, she had switched to a princess costume
and posed alone and then it was as pirates with a bare-chested
Lamar again.

It was as pirates that she decided she didn't like Lamar though
she was somewhat in awe of him. She was kneeling like a captured
wench when she noticed his penis had swelled up. Latrell noticed
too. "Tracy, I need you to place your hand over his crotch to
cover up his bulge," he ordered.

"Is that really necessary?"

"Yeah, it's not unusual for the male model to get an erection
when posing with a woman like you. Just place your hand over it,
in case I get some good shots where it appears. We're all
professional here." Latrell started snapping as she reached up
and found her hand didn't began to cover the length of his penis.
She settled for covering the head area down his thigh.

"That feels good," whispered Lamar. "Feel how big and hot it is."

"Ssshhh, we're working." He was right though, it was big and hot.

"I'm not used to working with such a sexy white lady. "You made
it this hard." -that line sounded familiar to her- "Why don’t you
squeeze it?"

"No!"

"If you do I'll shut up."

Against her better judgment, almost of its own accord, her hand
gave it a little squeeze.

"That's a black cock in your hand. I bet it feels a lot bigger
then your wimpy husband doesn't it?"

He was like an arrogant man from a romance that needed taming. He
was arrogant, rude, and had a bad mouth, but she had never been
so aroused in her life. Her puffy pirate pants were soaked with
her excitement. Luckily, Latrell was done with the scene, but he
had one more he wanted to do.

*****************

"Tracy, how come you never use a black man like Lamar in your
books?" Suzie asked.

"I never thought about it before. I guess I could do one about a
black couple. It's just not my thing."

"No not a couple, just a black man. The woman would be naive and
white, maybe married and she can't resist his superior black
genes."
"Or what's under is jeans," chimed Carla. The two girls laughed.

Tracy thought about an interracial romance, but decided it would
be a little too controversial. Her readership was mostly, young,
married white women and she didn't want to offend anyone. Of
course, Latrell and Lamar were the first men she had met who
actually had the erotic presence of a romance hero.

"Your last outfit is in the changing room," said Carla. "Take
this," she handed Tracy a bottle of water, "the lights tend to
dehydrate you and you need plenty of water."

*******************

"She's had a considerable amount of Xcite," said Latrell,
watching Tracy on the computer monitor. According to the monitor,
several hundred subscribers were also watching live and more
would download the scenes later.

Tyrone and Latrell leaned forward as Tracy removed her clothes.
The young woman locked the door and sat on the bench facing the
mirror with the hidden camera behind it. Both men stared at her
engorged clit, dripping with lubrication as she spread her legs
and began diddling herself. "When she gives in, she's gonna fuck
like crazy," said Tyrone.

Tracy played with herself until she began shaking. They watched
as she put her fist in her mouth to keep from crying out. The
beautiful young writer arched her back and both men growled with
lust as her orgasm squirted out on the bench. "A squirter," said
Latrell.

"Yeah, and she cums pretty easily. This bitch is doomed."

Tracy stood up before the mirror and reached for her next
costume. Only there wasn't one, just a bikini hanging on the
rack.

"Turn the sound up," said Latrell.

Tyrone did as Tracy said out loud, "I can't wear this. It's
practically nothing."

"I'd better get back," said Latrell. "Should I send Carol in?"

"No, I'll come down in a few minutes." Tyrone watched as Tracy
tried the bikini on. They were always sized too small for the
models. The top stretched taunt over her large, up thrust
breasts, showing just a hint of pink areola, and outlining her
hard, erect nipples perfectly. The panties were little more then
a thong and the girl kept trying to stretch them out over her
pretty white ass cheeks, but it was to no avail.. The front was
sheer and tiny, whisps of curly, red pubic hair stuck out around
the sides. Not that it mattered because her entire pubic mound
was visible through the sheer fabric.

********************

"Latrell," called Tracy. She was covering her body with the
dressing room door.

"Yes, what is it?"

"My outfit is too small and who said anything about a bikini
anyway? I don't even where one on the beach."

"Sorry, but some swimsuit shots were specified in the contract
that came to me from your publisher, but don't worry, it's
doubtful they'll ever be used. People and Romance Quarterly will
use the wild west or pirate shots. Only a men's mag will use the
sexy ones and what men's mag is gonna run a story about a romance
writer?"

Tracy had thought about getting some sexy pictures done for her
husband to rekindle his fires, but hadn't been brave enough to go
through with it. "I'll want to approve them before you send them
off and I'd like copies."

"No problem."

"But like I said, it's too small and quite revealing."

"I understand what you’re saying. I'll send Suzie in."

Tracy went back inside the dressing room feeling her restrained
breasts bounce with every step. She sat down again and admired
herself. The girls had done her hair to make her look like a
vixen and with the bikini she looked like an adult film star. The
crotch was still soaked and she could feel her clit throbbing
with desire. What the hell was wrong with her? She was
practically climbing the walls with horniness.

Suzie came in with something. She kneeled by Tracy and plugged it
in. "What are you doing?" asked Tracy. "Where's the new bikini?"

Suzie tested the razor. "There isn't one. That bikini is sized to
fit you and it looks great on you."

"It's obscene."

"That's why I'm here." Suzie sprayed some shaving cream in her
hand and applied it to Tracy's crotch as she pulled the woman's
bikini aside.

"Stop, you can't shave me. What will my husband think? Ooooh" The
girl had already applied the razor to the exposed hair and the
vibrations felt incredible.

"He'll love it and I'm only gonna shave the sides so that it
doesn't stick out. Your red-blonde color is too unique to shave
off completely."

Tracy watched, breathing heavy as her hairy bush was transformed
into a thin strip of hair. The vibrations were driving her mad
and Suzie seemed to be taking her time running the razor along
the sensitive nub at the bottom. Tracy gripped the bench, her
knuckles turning white. "Aaagh," she cried as she came. Her
fluids coated Suzie's hand. "Oh my god! I'm sorry. I‘m so sorry."
Tracy was red from head to toe with embarrassment.

"It happens. It's nothing. Now go get'em."

Tracy looked around for a robe or anything, but there was none.
She turned to leave, exiting the room as Suzie looked in the
mirror and brought her hand up to her mouth. She looked directly
in the camera and licked off Tracy's cum.

Tracy walked right out into the chest of another large black man,
just as big and masculine as Latrell and Lamar only this man was
ugly, with big lips and a flat nose. "Mrs. Lovelace, I'm Tyrone
Jones, head of E&I modeling."

"Tracy, and it's nice to meet you." Her nipples throbbed under
his gaze. Her whole body felt warm. He was wearing a
well-tailored suit and she was standing before him practically
naked. She was surprised to find she liked exposing herself to
the admiring gazes of men.

"Alright people, we're moving to the beach scene," yelled
Latrell.

She posed for some shots before a fake beach background,
standing, kneeling, and laying in the sand. Tyrone watched her
from beside Latrell, his intense gaze never leaving her. "Ok,
Lamar start walking up the beach," called Latrell.

Tracy shivered. She had thought she was done with Lamar and now
the arrogant bastard would see her practically naked and the
thought made her shiver again. She looked over her shoulder.
Lamar was wearing a speedo as tight and small as her bikini. He
looked like an ebony god walking towards her.

"Here's the theme," said Latrell. "Tracy you’re a pretty young
tourist who found true happiness in the arms of a black islander
while vacationing in the Caribbean. Got it? Suzie, Carla, get
some water on them."

The two girls threw buckets of water on Tracy and Lamar. Tracy
jumped as the cold water shocked her. Her already hard nipples,
strained her bikini top even more as they puffed up even bigger.
She looked down her body in horror as the water soaked into the
already sheer bikini causing it to become practically invisible.

"Lamar, take her in your arms and give her a deep, passionate
kiss."

Tracy gulped as Lamar, his body glistening under the light,
looked down at her and took her in his arms. It was just like a
scene from one of her novels. Wait, it was a seen from one of her
novels, though that was between a shipwrecked white couple. His
lips met hers and she felt his tongue pushing against her lips.
She held them tight until Latrell yelled, "Make it look more
real." Lamar pushed his way into her mouth and she relented,
their tongues teasing each other. It didn't get any more real
then this.

"Very good Tracy," said Latrell taking a close-up of her face lip
locked with Lamar's. "We're almost through. Why don't you kiss
down his chest." Tracy did as she was told facing the camera as
she kissed his hard torso. "Keep going down." She moved lower,
kissing his perfect black six-pack abdominals, more defined then
any man she'd ever seen.

Tracy glanced down at his crotch as she neared his navel. She
stopped in shock at the sight of his bulge. His penis had
stretched out the bathing suit so much, she could see part of
it's flesh. The thing had to be immense. "Like what you see?"
whispered Lamar. "That big black cock is the perfect pussy
pleaser for white sluts like you."

Tracy wondered if Latrell knew what a foul mouthed pervert he had
working for him. Still, she also had to wonder if what he said
was true. I made her panties juice up just looking at it. "Kneel
again," said Latrell, "and look up at him like he is the most
incredible man you've ever seen."

"That should be easy," whispered Lamar. "I am the most incredible
man you've ever seen." Damn him, but he was right. The arrogant
bastard was incredible.

"Shit Lamar," said Latrell. "Can't you do something about that
big cock of yours? Tracy, put your hand over it again."
Tracy put her hand on it. This time just the thin material
separating her hand from his penis. "Latrell, it will look like
I'm touching it."

"You are touching it," whispered Lamar.

"Just keep it covered Tracy. I can touch it up if the picture
looks to revealing. After all, what kind of magazine would use
pictures like that?" Latrell went back to snapping pictures.

"I bet you missed touching it. You like having a real man's cock
in your hands don't you?"

"Shut up," she whispered back through gritted teeth. He was
right, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of
knowing she was infatuated with his penis. She really wanted to
see it fully erect. It was moving under her hand, all bunched up,
and trying to break free. Jesus, but it had to be over a foot
long.

"Alright, lets do a love scene. Last scene of the day." Latrell
loaded more film while Suzie spread out a blanket on the sand.

Tracy fell back on the blanket trying to avoid looking at Lamar.
Dozens of tripod mounted cameras were aimed at her, some even
looked like video cameras. Tyrone was looking at her through one.


"Ok," said Latrell, "first couple shots, I want you both laying
on your sides facing me. Tracy in front. Lamar put your arms
around her. The two maneuvered into position and Lamar pushed his
crotch against her ass. Luckily, Latrell ended that pose quickly.
"Lamar kiss down her body now and then climb on top of her."
The handsome black model slowly kissed down her neck, stopping at
the top of her bosom, planting several on her impressive
cleavage. For once, he showed some gentlemanly behavior and
skipped over her breasts kissing down her belly. Each kiss sent a
wave of heat through her body and her belly spasmed at each touch
of his lips. He was a jerk again on his final kiss, slipping his
tongue into her belly button.

Lamar climbed on top, completely engulfing her body. He rested
his crotch on hers, grinding them together. It was getting her so
turned on, she could feel her labia parting with desire, as if it
were opening for him. Her head was buried in his chest, but Tracy
turned to say, "Latrell, I'm uncomfortable with the idea of
anyone seeing these pictures."

"Oh," he set the camera down. "Why didn't you say something
earlier. These don't have to be so graphic. I'll need some more
shots, but we can cover you up so that it looks like you're
making love under a blanket on the beach."

Carla made as if to throw a blanket over them and Lamar jumped
up, "wait a second, I need to adjust my cock."

Suzie turned Tracy's head away from Lamar while he adjusted
himself. She touched up Tracy's make up until Lamar climbed under
the covers with her. He didn't come in close contact with her
body at first, just keeping his hands on her hips gently
massaging them. His knee forced its way between her legs until
she parted them and he kneeled between them. Lamar slowly leaned
down bending his back so that he could kiss her while bringing
his crotch back up to hers. His penis touched her thigh and just
as she realized he had removed his swimsuit, his mouth covered
hers before she could say anything.

Her labia was parting again, her pussy opening for him as the
head of his giant penis slid up her inner thigh. She thanked god
for the bikini, wondering if the thin material could protect her
from the approaching monster. Her pussy lips stretched out around
a penis-head the size of a golf ball, it entered her before she
realized her bikini was gone. The bastard had untied the sides
while he massaged her and skillfully pulled it out of the way.

Tracy wanted to scream out in protest. Instead her legs were
opening wider for him and her tongue was busy teasing his again.
She was finally getting the sexual satisfaction she had been
craving for months.

Latrell was busy snapping away completely oblivious to what was
going on under the blanket. Before she closed her eyes to kiss
him more passionately, she thought she saw Tyrone taking his
shirt off.

"Feels good to have a man-sized cock in you, doesn't it?" Lamar
whispered as soon as she pulled her lips off his to breathe. "A
lot better then your husband isn't it? Does he fill you like
this?"

"No," she said meekly. "So big. I don't believe this is
happening."

"That's only half bitch."

"How big is it?

"Fourteen mother fuckin inches and they’re all yours."

"Impossible!"

"You'll see, but it will take awhile to stretch you out. You'll
never feel hubby's little worm again."

Lamar had some serious issues, but his cock did feel incredible
and her body was starting to respond to his slow thrusts. Her
hips was raising up into his cock, the big head sliding back and
forth across a spot never before reached by her husband.
"Aaaaeeiiii," Tracy screamed in orgasm throwing her head back and
forth.

"Tracy, are you ok?" asked Latrell getting a close up of her
sweat covered face.

"Yes, yes, oh god yes, I'm fine," she replied having another.
Lamar's skillful hands had untied her bikini top and he was busy
rolling her nipples between his fingers while gently tugging on
them. Tracy came again when Lamar moved his head under the
blanket and took her nipples into his mouth. She opened her eyes
to see Tyrone walking towards her. He was naked, another long
cock dangling between his legs. It was very black like his skin
and it was growing as he approached her. It didn't appear as
large as Lamar's felt, but it was still huge, probably close to a
foot. Latrell had put down his camera and was pointing a video
camera at Tyrone, filming his approach.

Tyrone kneeled in the sand on the set, his cock now rock hard,
thick and throbbing as he pushed it down towards her mouth. He
may have been ugly, but his cock was gorgeous. He rubbed the head
along her lips, her tongue flickering out to taste the pre-cum,
then staying out to lick around the head of his mighty cock. She
took him in her mouth vaguely aware that Lamar had stopped
thrusting. Her pussy felt so full, she suddenly knew that Lamar
had buried every inch of his huge back cock into her and was
pausing to let her get used to it. Tyrone was pushing more of his
cock into her mouth and Tracy's eyes turned from looking down
Tyrone's long shaft to look at Carla as the Hispanic girl slowly
pulled the blanket off her. Latrell was busy photographing the
action.
Lamar pulled out and slapped her leg saying, "Turn over and get
on all fours." Tracy did as she was told while Lamar kneeled
behind her and rubbed his cock along her labia. "Is this what you
want?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Beg for it, slut."

"Please put it back in. I want it." He didn't seem to be
responding. She tried to push back into it, but he still held it
away. "Please fuck me Lamar. Fuck me with that big black cock."
He pushed a little in, suggesting he approved of her words. Tracy
was going crazy with lust. She wanted it all and at the same time
Tyrone was rubbing his cock head around her lips wanting her to
suck on it again. Suddenly she knew what he wanted from her and
it was easy for her to say because it was true. "Fuck me with
that big cock. Your black cock is so superior to my husband's
pathetic little dick. Aaaahh!" Lamar had slammed his cock back in
and started pounding her pussy. "That's it baby, that’s what I
want big black cock....mmmph." Tyrone had finally grown too
impatient and shoved his cock back into her mouth as she spoke.

Lamar was pumping her so fast, his big balls were slapping her
thighs, stinging her a little. Each thrust of his cock pushed her
into Tyrone's. His prick slipped deeper into her throat until her
lips were kissing his pubes.

Tracy remained like that for close to a half hour, cumming
constantly. Just when she thought she couldn't cum anymore, his
cock exploded in her pussy, waves of sperm striking deep into her
womb giving her a mind-blowing orgasm. She could feel his swollen
cock-head sending jet after jet inside her, his thick cock acting
like a cork keeping his sperm deep inside.

Lamar pulled out, his sperm flowing out behind it. She
immediately missed his cock but another set of hands replaced his
on her ass cheeks. She couldn't look back with Tyrone busy
fucking her mouth, but she assumed it was Latrell. She couldn't
see him, just Suzie on her left filming the blowjob with a video
camera and Carla had walked behind her with another camera
earlier.

Another long, thick shaft rested between her ass cheeks, moving
down, but it stopped before it reached her pussy. Instead, she
felt pressure against her anus as he pressed down on it. Tracy's
eyes widened with fear at the thought of getting ass-fucked. Her
sphincter opened slowly stretching wide around the probing
cock-head. She opened her mouth, her scream muffled by Tyrone's
cock, just as it filled her mouth with sperm. Tracy gulped
wildly, but lost control from the pain in her ass. Sperm sprayed
her face, hair, dribbled down her chin and she still swallowed
what felt like a glass full. By the time he was done cumming, the
pain in her behind was fading.

Tracy looked behind her as Tyrone moved out of her way. It was
indeed Latrell slowly fucking her ass with another huge cock. He
had thoughtfully coated his shaft with lubricant and it helped
make it easy on her. It didn't take long for her to start pushing
back into his thrusting cock. "Fuck my ass with that black cock,"
she growled.

Amazingly enough, Lamar was walking over to her stroking his cock
to full erection again. He kneeled in front of her, her eyes
crossing as she stared down his monster shaft. It did appear to
be fourteen inches and she couldn't imagine how she and taken the
whole thing. "Your wimp husband ever fuck that sweet ass?" he
asked.

"No," she replied kissing his cock-head. "I've never taken him in
my mouth either."

"What a pussy he is. Thank me for teaching you about black cock."

"Thank you for teaching me about..." It was the last thing she
said that day as Lamar pushed his cock into her mouth.

The last thing Tracy remembered was Suzie crawling between her
legs and licking her clean. Carla kissed and licked around her
face trying to get any drop of sperm the black men had left on
her, but by then Tracy was to tired and sore to feel them or to
be disgusted by what they were doing.

The girls helped her shower and dress, promising her that they
would get Latrell to destroy the film of her having sex, then the
limo took her home. The muscular black driver demanded a blow job
from her and she complied. She was worn out, her belly still full
of sperm, but she enthusiastically sucked on his huge shaft. She
was filled with a desire to service these men that made her
ignore her own soreness and other needs.

*******************

Tracy clamped her lips down around the spasming black cock of her
new publisher. She had re-read her book and decided it was
complete crap, as were all her books. She had written them before
she knew anything about real sex. She erased "throbbing manhood"
and replaced it with "massive, rampant cock". It still didn't
ring truthful, so she made the cowboy black. Her character was a
little too gentle for her now, so she made him more dominant. She
typed out, "Missy was pursing her lips, expecting a kiss, when
the black cowboy put his hands on her shoulders, pushing down.
Confused, she fell to her knees before him staring at his
trousers. Something moved under them, something long and thick."

Her publisher loved the re-write. However, he suggested she tone
it down early in the book and not mention the hero was black.
"Hook your readers with the plot before heating up the action.
Your readership is mostly young, married housewives, and you need
to draw them in before shocking them."

"You're right of course," she said checking out the bulge under
his pants as he stood up.

He came around before her and leaned against his desk. "You
should also research your stories as much as you can."

"I am sir," she said, smiling as she unbuttoned his pants.

The End