Message-ID: <53252asstr$1142417402@assm.asstr.org>
From: "jack" <jack2298@charter.net>
Subject: {ASSM} Connect the Dots  by Shooter3704  (M+ ir)
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Date: Wed, 15 Mar 2006 05:10:02 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Connect the Dots

   Labelle's story

   Shooter3704
(Foreword: This story is for the real Labelle who inspired it, shooter)
I stood watching in absolute amazement at the woman on the bed getting
fucked.  She was sandwiched between two black men with one in her ass and
one in her pussy.  Another stood beside them, his hard black cock ready to
swing into action.  As I watched them I thought about how it all came down

to that moment in time.

   ***

   The first time I saw her was at a neighborhood picnic.  I remember that
I didn't pay much attention to her on that occasion.  There were a lot of
people there and she kind of got lost in the crowd.

   They have a couple of picnics a year in the small park at the end of our
street.  She and her husband and two teenage girls have lived in the
neighborhood a long time.  I was a newcomer to the area.  While all the
houses are nice, mine was the smallest as befitting a new bachelor.  I
became a new bachelor because my wife, Sharon, decided that she needed to
rediscover herself and left me to go grow grapes in California with a bunch
of other nuts.  California, the land of fruits and nuts.

   I'm a writer of novels and I wanted a house in the suburbs for the peace
and quiet it offered.  Since I do all of my work at home, peace and quiet
are essential for me.  My real name is Tom Harper and I write under the
name of Buck James.  I write adventure novels that frankly are only a notch
above trash, but it brings in a lot of money, so I don't knock it.

   The second time I saw her was in the park early one morning.  I had been
writing all night to meet a publishing deadline and I took a stroll to
clear my fuzzed-up head.  She was sitting in one of the swings and
apparently her mind was a long way off because I was nearly right beside
her when she saw me.  I could tell from the way she jumped that I had
surprised and scared her.

   "Sorry," I said quickly.  "I didn't mean to startle you.  I live over
there," I added pointing to my house.

   "Oh, you scared the crap out of me," she said with an embarrassed laugh.
"Yes, you're the writer, aren't you?" I admitted that I was and I didn't
admit that if I ever knew her name, I forgot it.

   "You seemed a million miles away," I said taking the swing beside her.
On closer inspection I could see that she was a pretty woman, but a
troubled one.  I guessed her age at early forty or maybe even younger.  She
did look younger when she smiled.  Her strawberry blond hair was nearly
shoulder length and she was covered with freckles.

   Since my ex-wife's sudden departure I had avoided women, but I found
myself thinking how much fun it would be to connect the dots on her.  Okay,
I was horny and she looked good to me even being a little over-weight.  She
wasn't fat, just a tad plump, but she carried it well.  I know because I
watched her walk away.

   I casually asked around and found out she her name was Lucy McGill.  The
old woman who lived next door to me was a wealth of neighborhood data and
she didn't mind sharing her knowledge.  I also found out that Lucy had an
older married son with children of his own.  That made Lucy a grandmother
and I found it strange that it did not detract from her charm or her appeal
for me.

   When I finish a book there is always a period of time that I have a
lost, disconnected feeling.  Loose ends, so to speak.  That lost feeling
stays until I start the next one.  I was in this limbo state when I saw her
for the third time.

   Lucy was just entering the park and I didn't want her to think I was
following her so I went up a block and cut through a backyard and entered
the park at the other end.  I felt silly but I wanted her to think I was
already in the park.  I made it to the swings before she did.

   "Good morning, Lucy," I said when she got close.  "If we're not careful
people will think we have something going on, meeting like this." She
smiled at me and took the other swing.

   "It's not likely that anyone would believe that a young strapping lad
like you and an old bag like me had anything going on."

   "Strapping, maybe, young, not so much," I replied.  "I don't think I
would used words like old or bag to describe you either."

   "If that was a compliment, thanks," she said giving me a side-long look.
"Let me see.if the neighborhood rumor mongers have it right you are
thirty-two.  Sorry, but that puts you in the young category."

   "The rumor mongers have been reading the dust covers of my earlier
books," I said smiling at her.  "I've been writing a long time, and I'm
forty-one, thank you."

   "Ah, I see," she said smiling back.  "You don't look your age.should I
call you Buck?"

   "No, that's a pseudonym I use.  My name is Tom.  Buck James doesn't
exist except in my imagination and the cover of books."

   "No, I like Buck, so I think that's what I shall call you.  I like how
it rolls off my tongue and it congers up a vision of a real he-man." I
didn't point out that you didn't use your tongue to say Buck.  "You can
call me Labelle."

   That was how it began for Buck and Labelle.  We met in the park several
times a week all that spring, weather permitting, and talked about
everything under the sun.  My writing, her family, my ex-wife, and her
husband.

   "Buck, why are you staring at my shoulder?" she asked one morning in
late spring.  We were in our spot on the swings.  Damn, I had been caught
daydreaming about connecting her freckles.  In my mind's eye she was naked
on my bed and I was using a marker to connect the dots.

   "There was a bee flying around and I was worried that it would land on
you," I said aware of how lame it sounded.  "What were you saying?"

   "I asked you why your wife left you," she said giving me a funny look.

   With the exception of our false names and my hidden desire to connect
her dots, I had always been perfectly honest with her.  I didn't see any
reason to start lieing now.

   "A lot of reasons, I guess," I answered.  "I get wrapped up in writing
and tended to exclude her for weeks at a time.  Not a good recipe for a
happy marriage.  That coupled with the fact Sharon thought I was kinky was
more than enough to send her packing."

   "Kinky?  You?  Kinky, how?" She suddenly looked startled.  "I'm sorry.
That question went across the line, didn't it?"

   "I'm wasn't aware we had lines, Labelle," I said.  "No, my ex and I
didn't see eye to eye on the subject of sex.  I like sex.a lot of sex, and
she wasn't into it all that much.  It took a long time for me to talk her
into even trying oral sex.  She didn't care all that much for it.  In any
form, me giving to her, or vice versa.  I wanted sex at least once a day
and she didn't even want to consider it but once a week if that often.  I
wanted to try new things and she didn't even want to do the old things."

   "Damn," Labelle said after my speech.  "I should be so lucky.  Ron
doesn't want sex anytime.  If I didn't insist, he wouldn't even do me once
a month.  What the hell was she thinking?"

   "Different libido, I guess.  Some people have a high drive and some
don't.  I have to wonder why we got married in the first place.  We
certainly weren't compatible in bed."

   "Do you date?" she asked looking at me.  "I mean with your high sex
drive I would think you would have at least one lady friend if not a whole
bunch of them."

   "Not at the moment, I don't," I answered.  "Frankly, going out to find a
lady seems like more trouble than it's worth.  I thought about running an
ad."

   "Saying what?  Wanted, a kinky woman for a kinky man?" I could see she
was teasing me.

   "Something like that, I guess.  Maybe, 'Wanted, female for fun and
games. Nothing serious just nitty-gritty, down and dirty sex.  Must be
available every day.'"

   "So you don't want to get serious.  What fun and games?"

   "Everything, even connect the dots." Oops, that slipped out.  When she
didn't pick up on it, I breathed a sigh of relief.

   "Buck, what would you want her to look like?" she asked.

   "Look like?  Hell, Labelle, looks aren't that important.  I mean, I
don't want a woman who looks like an aardvark or one that's enormous, but
other than that, it doesn't make any difference.  Hell, a woman with a
couple extra pounds is just more to get hold of."

   "I see," she said slowly not looking in my direction.  "What new
things?"

   "Huh?  New things?"

   "Yes you said you wanted to try new things.  What kind of new things?"
she laughed.  "Are you sure we don't have lines?"

   "No, no lines," I said laughing also.  "For one thing I suggested anal
sex and Sharon went ballistic.  After that, I didn't get any sex for a
month.  Since she didn't seemed to want sex with me I suggested bringing in
another partner.  That didn't fly all that well either."

   "You suggested bringing in another man?  Or was it another woman?"

   "A man was my first idea," I said.  "I got a resounding, 'no fucking
way'.  Later I suggested another woman.  Actually I didn't think she would
go for that any more than another man, but she fooled me.  She didn't beat
me up over that suggestion."

   "Did you get another woman?"

   "Actually, Sharon found another woman for us.  Lisa worked in the same
office with Sharon."

   "How did that work for you?"

   "Not so great for me, but damned fine for Sharon," I admitted.  "I was
an extra, unwanted third person.  Lisa wasn't as bi as Sharon indicated. 
Anytime I tried to get in on the action I got hissed at.  Mostly, I got to
watch them and jack-off.  That lasted until Lisa and Sharon hauled ass to
California."

   "I'm laughing," Labelle said.  "I'm sorry and I don't mean to laugh at
you, but it is kind of funny."

   "Yeah, funny as hell," I said.  Actually it was funny now.  Not so much
at the time.  "The only good thing was Sharon left, got a divorce, and
didn't asked me for anything except to be left alone."

   "Do you think she was a lesbian all along?" Labelle asked.  I had
thought about if several times and I concluded she may have been.  I told
Labelle that I thought so and asked her if she had ever been with another
woman.  She didn't answer for a few minutes.

   "Yes, once," she said after a while.  "In college I had a girl-girl
experience.  Oh, shit!  Look at the time.  I have to go.  The girls are
getting out at noon.  Summer vacation starts today.  I'll see you later,
Buck." She ran a few steps and looked back at me.  "Connect the dots, Buck?
You are kinky." She turned and ran across the park laughing as she went.

   ***

   I didn't see Labelle for a few days.  She and her husband took the girls
to his parents.  The girls were going to stay there for a month.  Labelle
was only gone for three days over the weekend but it seemed like two weeks
to me.  I missed her and our time together.

   I knew I wasn't falling in love with Labelle, whatever that means, but I
did have a thing for her, whatever that means.  To me Labelle was five and
a half feet of smothering sexuality that demanded exploring.  I had
gathered over the weeks that her husband was suffering from some sort of
male sexual dysfunction and hadn't wanted sex for sometime.  Frankly, I
felt Labelle was ripe for the plucking.  Over the last two weeks our
conversation turned from casual chat to semi-serious flirting.  Harmless to
that point.

   On Tuesday the day Labelle was supposed to return from the trip I found
myself looking out my front window toward the park a lot.  It was nearly
noon when I saw her going into the park.  When I got close to the swings I
saw she was wearing a white sundress and was barefooted.  I also saw two
kids playing on the swings and another in a sandbox near-by.

   "I think this is the only thing I don't like about summer," she said to
me when I got close enough.  "Kids are out of school and are all over my
park."

   "Yeah, I see they are in my park, too," I said.  "let's go over to my
house and we can have a cup of coffee while you catch me up on your
weekend." I almost expected her to resist but she came with me without any
hesitation.

   "Easy enough to do," she said as we walked.  "The trip was long and
tiring.  The girls fought and bickered every foot of the way while Ron
drove and didn't say more than a dozen words.  My in-laws have a big farm
and I think the girls were less excited this year than before about being
there for so long.  They are growing up and there are no boys near the
farm. The return trip was about the same, but quieter.  How was your
weekend?"

   "Boring," I reported.  "Long, quiet, and very boring.  I missed my buddy
and I'm glad you're back."

   "Am I your buddy?" she asked.  We were in my small kitchen waiting on
the coffee to make.  I miss the days when coffee perked.  I liked the sound
and the odor of perking coffee.  "Is that all I am, Buck?"

   I felt I was on shaky ground but I didn't have a clue about how to
respond.  I fell back on the truth as it had served me well in the past.

   "Yeah, sure.  My buddy that I really like spending time with.  Maybe
more than a buddy, Labelle, but I don't know how else to say it."

   "So you see me as a little plump housewife and someone you can talk to."
Damn, this wasn't going well at all.

   "First of all, you aren't just a little plump housewife to me.  You
aren't plump.  Labelle, I'd be lieing if I said I wasn't attracted to you,
because I am.  I just didn't want to mess anything up."

   "You think I'm attractive?  If I answered your ad would you be
interested?" I got up and poured the coffee for us.  She declined both
cream and sugar.  "Well, are you going to answer me?" she said after I sat
back down.

   "I'm not sure I want to," I answered honestly.  "I'd hate to scare you
off.  If you insist, then yes, I would be very interested.  In fact I
wouldn't even look at the other nine hundred replies to the ad."

   "Get over yourself," she said laughing.  "You wouldn't get more than two
or three hundred answers.  You would get photos of lean, beautiful, young
women.  Nude photos and you would forget all about me.  You would forget
all about my drooping old boobs when you got a look at the young perky
breasts."

   "Now, Labelle," I said.  "How can I forget about your breasts when I
haven't the foggiest idea what they look like.  How do you know I don't
like droopy tits?"

   "No man likes droopy knockers," Labelle said her smile fading.  This was
turning into a serious discussion.  I got up and went to her chair.  I
squatted down beside her and took her face in both of my hands and kissed
her lips.

   For a moment she didn't respond then she did.  I felt her mouth open
slightly and I inserted my tongue which she accepted readily.  We kissed,
swapping tongues, for nearly ten minutes.  We both were breathing hard.

   "Come on, Labelle," I said, getting to my feet and taking her hand.

   "Where are we going?" she asked breathlessly.

   "To my bed, where I'm going to give you the fucking you deserve."

   Labelle wasn't the first woman I fucked, but she was the first woman
that fucked me.  For the first fifteen minutes I was nothing more than a
tool for her to use, and use me she did.  She was insatiable, she was
demanding, and she was a great fuck.

   The next half an hour we fucked with more give and take.  Labelle
entered into the second session with less assertiveness but still with a
great zeal for the act of fucking.  We fucked in every position know to
man.

   It was nearly four o'clock when Labelle got up, dressed, and started
home.  I lay on the bed completely satisfied and completely worn out.

   "Hey, Labelle," I called as she started out of the bedroom.  "I forgot
something."

   "Yes, I know," she said looking back at me with a huge smile.  "You
didn't connect the dots, did you?  I'll see you tomorrow, Buck."

   "Here or the park?" I yelled.

   "Here, of course.  We would scare the children with what we're doing,"
she called back.  A moment later I heard the front door close.  Damn, what
a woman.

   ***

   That day was the beginning of a special affair.  Yeah, I'm sure every
affair is special, but this was an extra special affair.  For one thing
Labelle had gotten way behind in her sex life and rotten bitch was using me
to attempt to catch up.  God bless her!

   We still talked on a variety of subjects but we did it mostly laying
down.  In the beginning, Labelle didn't vary much.  The first fifteen or so
minutes she was the aggressor and suddenly as if some internal switch had
been flipped she became a submissive, willing to do anything I even hinted
at.

   After a couple of weeks she gradually lost all of her aggressive nature
and she would come to me as a submissive.  She never lost her desire to do
my bidding.  I was living my dream.  I had a hot blooded woman who came to
me every day for sex and she wanted to do what I wanted.  The heat we
generated in my bedroom challenged my air conditioning system.  I thought
it couldn't get any better and suddenly it did get a whole lot better.

   The first thing that happened was Labelle's two daughters called and
asked if they could stay another two weeks.  Apparently the girls had
discovered some neighbor boys.  As if that wasn't enough, Ron, Labelle's
husband had to go out of town for two weeks.  I couldn't believe it!  Eros
must have been watching and decided to make it even better.  He shot his
arrow right into my ass, bless his unscrupulous heart.  (It seems the
Romans borrowed Eros from the Greeks, changed his name to Cupid, and made
him a nicer, gentler being.  I like the nasty-ass Eros better)

   All of a sudden, Labelle and I had two whole weeks all to ourselves.  No
more uncoupling for her to run home to fix Ron's dinner.  Let the fun and
games begin!

   Our two weeks of unbridled bliss started while Ron's airplane was still
within fifty miles of our airport.  Labelle delivered him to the departure
gate, gave him a quick peck, wished him a safe trip, and then violated all
the traffic laws in the state getting back to me.  That was Sunday
afternoon which we spent in bed with Labelle naked and me connecting the
dots.  I used a washable marker but we discovered it takes a lot of
scrubbing to get it all off.  I also discovered that scrubbing Labelle
wasn't a chore, it was fun, too.

   The first week was a week of more discovery.  Because of the fact there
was no hurry, Labelle sucked me to completion and swallow my cum.  Of
course she had sucked my cock before but apparently she didn't mind wasting
some semen since she knew we had lot's of time.  I also discovered that
Labelle loved anal sex.

   I've always been under the impression that women just put up with being
butt fucked.  That none of them really liked it.  Labelle lay that theory
to rest.  She really loved for me to fuck her ass.

   After I remember the box of toys in the garage, Labelle became
infatuated with my toys.  I say my toys, but actually I bought them for
Sharon before she and Lisa became a couple and departed.  I was quite the
optimist back then.  I have spent a small fortune on the damned things.  I
bought everything from Ben-wa balls, to anal beads, to dildos and
vibrators, to a device called a Puzzy Pleazer.

   The puzzy pleazer was a gadget that the woman straddles and sits down on
a rubber cock.  Guaranteed to work on pussy or ass.  It came with an
assortment of dildo sizes and textures and a remote controller.  That son
of a bitch had more setting than a 747 jet and Labelle like every one of
them.

   Needless to say I did no writing while Labelle was available.  Shoot, I
can write anytime.  One should fuck when one has opportunity, I always say.
Actually I've never said that before, but I should have.

   Labelle and I only got out of bed to eat, shower, and take care of our
bodily functions.  As the end of the first week was drawing to a close we
both had temporality caught up on sex.  Me especially.  I'm not sure if
Labelle would ever be satisfied.

   I'm sure the old bag next door was aware that I had company.  Labelle
could get very vocal and very loud at times, but frankly neither of us
cared right then.  The nosy old woman mentioned that she saw Labelle coming
and going from my house one day when we went to the mailbox at the same
time.  I told her that Lucy, as she was known, was doing some typing for
me. I thought it was pretty clever of me since I haven't owned a typewriter
in over ten years and it seemed to satisfy the old bitch.

   On Saturday afternoon we decided to venture out of the house.  Labelle
wanted to go dancing.  I'm not a great fan of dancing, but I wanted to
please her.

   "Okay," I told her.  "Here's the deal.  We go out, but you'll have to
dress like a slut.  I don't want eye-candy, I want a lip smacking total
slut on my arm.  I want you showing your ass and tits to anybody who looks.
Deal?"

   "Are you serious?" she asked, looking startled.  "What if someone I know
sees me?"

   "I doubt that you'll run across anyone you know where we're going.  Go
get your slut rags on, cunt.  Time is wasting."

   Labelle was unusually quiet on the twenty minute drive into the city.  I
suspect it was her attire that caused her concern.  She was wearing a
low-cut blouse with a push-up bra and her 46D tits looked like they would
pop out at any moment.  She was wearing one of her teenage daughter's skirt
and at my urging no panties.  She also was wearing a pair of super high
heels.  I advised her on make-up to complete the look.  I had my slut.

   I'm not exactly sure why I decided on the Zebra Room.  I had heard about
it from a friend when I first moved to town, but had never been there.  If
I was to describe the place I would have to used the term seedy at some
point.  The crowd was racially mixed and I knew it would be.  Probably
about seventy percent black and thirty percent white.  The white population
was mostly female with a few white men scattered about.

   When Labelle and I walked in I could almost feel the lustful gaze of
dozens of black men staring at Labelle.  I figured out that most of the
white women came to the Zebra Room to get screwed by a black man, but there
could be no doubt about Labelle.  Her dress screamed, "fuck me!" I brought
her to that place to fulfill another fantasy of mine.  I wanted to see
Labelle get fucked by at least one black man and hopefully even more than
one.  I told Labelle on the drive into town of my plan.

   "You're going to set me up?" she asked when I told her.  "To have sex
with black men?" I told her that was exactly my idea and she stared at me a
moment.  "Really?" she asked softly.

   "Really, Labelle," I assured her.  "Before the night is over you will
have a black cock in your lily white snatch.  Maybe more than one."

   We hadn't more than sat down and ordered drinks when Labelle was asked
to dance.  I didn't wait for her to make up her mind.  I sent her out onto
the dance floor with a black dude while I watched.  After that dance she
didn't even make it back to the table before she was whisked back to the
floor by another black dude.  After the third dance, I rescued her and
brought her to our table to rest and have a drink.

   "Having fun?" I asked her.

   "Yes, I'm having a great time," she said, still flushed.  "I'll say one
thing about these guys.  That sure have roaming hands.  I've been felt up
before, but nothing like this."

   The band took a break and things got a bit quieter in the Zebra Room,
but we still had to lean close to talk.

   "I'd like to buy the lady a drink," a gruff voice said from behind me. I
turned and looked up.  Way up, at a big black man.  He had to weigh in
somewhere close to three hundred pounds and was at least six foot five or
six.  He didn't look fat either.

   "Sure," I replied.  "Join us?"

   "Yeah, why don't you take a hike," he growled at me.

   "No, that's not how it works," I said pleasantly.  "You can join us or
go peddle your shit somewhere else." I'm fairly big and I'm not easily
intimated by anyone.  He glared at me a moment, shrugged and settled his
bulk beside Labelle.

   "Having fun, little lady?" he said to her.

   "I'm having a ball," Labelle assured him.  "Maybe we can dance later."

   "I don't dance," he said.  "Least not standing up.  I do my thing laying
down, if you get my meaning." I got his meaning and from her look, Labelle
did also.  "You looking for some action?" he asked her.

   "I love to dance," she said.  "What's your name?"

   "Clive," he answered.  He looked at a nervous looking man hovering
near-by.  The band had started again and the dance floor was filling up. 
"Hey, asshole," Clive said to the man.  "Don't let my size make a coward
out of you.  Go dance with him, honey, while me and your man have a little
talk."

   "So man, what's the deal here?" Clive said after Labelle and the man
disappeared into the crowd of dancers.  "She looking for black meat or
what?"

   "We're considering the possibility," I said.  "She's never had a black
man before.  I want the first experience to be special.  I was thinking a
small gang-bang to break her in.  What do you think."

   "Might be arranged," he said eyeing me.  "She any good?"

   "A super great fuck," I told him.  "Likes everything a cock can do for
her.  Too much just isn't anywhere enough."

   "I ain't got a problem sharin' the wealth," Clive said.  "But I ain't
going to bring in the Bros until I know we got a winner.  I'm going to need
to take her on a test drive, if you get my meaning." Clive's meaning wasn't
difficult to get, none of them were.  Subtle he wasn't.  I saw Labelle
being dry hunched on the dance floor.  One of the flashing lights hit them
and I could see the man's hand under her short skirt and I knew I had been
right.  Panties would just get in the way.

   "Sure," I said to Clive.  "I have a room down at the Savoy Hotel. 
Twenty minutes give you enough time to get your fat ass there?" He glared
at me a moment then smiled.

   "You might be thinkin' you know something about fightin', sport.  Maybe
you learned some gook shit, but you don't want to be letting your mouth
write checks your ass can't cash.  What room number?" I told him and he
ambled away.  Sounded like good advise.  Apparently ol' Clive was a sage.

   "God, I'm so hot, I'm sizzling," a flushed, panting Labelle said when
she got back to the table.  " That guy had two fingers in my pussy the
whole time we were dancing.  I had a couple orgasms.  Where did the big man
go?" I told her she would see Clive in a little while.  I finished my drink
and took her to the Savoy.

   ***

   Thirty minutes later, Labelle was naked, on her back with Clive slamming
his black cock in her cunt.

   What Clive lacked in conversational skills and finesse, he made up for
in his ability to fuck and keep on fucking.  Also he didn't let any grass
grow under his big feet.  He was in the room and had Labelle stripped with
his cock in her mouth within two minutes of his arrival.  While she gave
him head, he mauled her giant tits.  Jerking on her hard nipples..  and
pulling her breasts in all manner of shapes.  The more Clive abused her
breasts the hotter she became

   He called her whore, cunt, cum-dump, bitch and some names I didn't
recognize.  The nastier he was to her the more she loved it.  When he
shoved his cock in her the first time she wailed like a banshee.  Clive
didn't have a super-size cock, but he certainly wasn't a shorthorn either.
Six inches long and thick.  I didn't measure it, but I'm a fair judge of
size.

   After Clive fucked her on her back, he rolled her over and slammed his
cock in her from behind.  While he hand her on her knees, he used some of
his cum to make her rectum slick and shoved his cock in Labelle's ass.  I
don't know how many time Clive shot off in her, but she had big streams of
cum running down both legs and cum coming out of her cunt and ass.  Finally
he lay on his back and had Labelle get on top of him.

   "Now fuck my black cock you miserable piece of white trash!  Get your
fat while ass to moving, you fuckin' whore!" Clive used her big tits as
handles to get her moving on his cock.  Soon she was bouncing wildly on his
rigid cock and the cum just flew out of her pussy.

   When Clive came the last time he gave out a mighty groan and ended with
a barking sound.  He and Labelle lay there for several minutes and then he
pushed her off of him.

   "Get this fucking slut cleaned up," he said to me.  "I'll be back in a
while with some more swingin' black dicks for her to fuck.  Have something
for us to drink when I get back, too.  Beer's fine, just have plenty of it
cause it's going to be a long night for your whore."

   After Clive left I helped Labelle into the shower and I went to get beer
and to bring our overnight cases in.  Clive did return after about an hour.
He had two men with him.  It was a long night for sure.  Labelle was fucked
in every hole.  One at a time, two at a time, and sometimes all three of
them were in her.  Labelle was a fucking machine.

   So there I stood watching her get doubled fucked.  My little housewife
from the burbs was in hog heaven.  Clive and company fucked Labelle for
over three house leaving her cum splattered but happy.  Also tired and
happy.

   ***

   For the rest of the week, Clive and his merry band of brothers kept
Labelle well fucked.  Even after Ron came home and the girls came back from
the farm, Labelle would sneak down to my house to meet with her black
fuck-buddies.  After school resumed, I saw Clive's car at her house several
times and once I saw her leave with Clive and another man.

   I still got together with Labelle, but not as much as I had.  She had
some other dicks to keep her occupied.  Sometime around Thanksgiving, Clive
told me he had turned Labelle out.  She was his white slut-whore and he was
her pimp.  When I asked her about it she just grinned but didn't comment.

   I got an offer to go to California to help write a screenplay from one
of my novels.  It was too good to pass up, so I agreed.  I joined the other
fruits and nuts in the Golden State.  I'll admit that I shed a tear when I
drove away from my house the last time.  When I looked back and saw Labelle
standing by the street waving me goodbye, I broke down and cried like a big
ol' baby.  I hate it when good things end, but at least Labelle is happy in
her newfound life.

   The End



   (Authors note and shameless plug: Because so many have asked, I'll
confess.  Yes, I have written a novel (adventure/mystery, non-erotic).  "To
climb a Mountain" By Jack Coleman.  It's listed at Amazon.com.  Soft cover
only because that was all I could afford at the time since I had it
published myself.  I would like to sell a couple so feel free to buy a
couple dozen (makes great gifts, you know).  Also looking for publisher or
agent because I have several more ready to go.  Shooter) 

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