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From: Rachael Ross <rache_696@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Daddys Lil Whore by Rachael Ross (M/f, Interracial, Size, Safe Sex, Drugs - Mj)
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Date: Wed, 25 Oct 2006 06:10:01 -0400
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<1st attachment, "daddys little whore 1.txt" begin>

Daddy's Little Whore Copyright 2006 Rachael Ross all rights reserved Story
Codes: M/F, Interracial, Size, Facial
Synopsis: Fifteen year old Samantha is Daddy's little girl, but growing
up without a mom means she's had to grow up fast.  In this chapter Sammie's
just out looking for fun when she finds out that the rumors she's heard
about black guys being big aren't just true...They're mind-boggling!
Note: Okay, ummm nothing was really interesting me and I thought about
taking a few days off, but then I thought about a title "Daddy's Little
Whore" and then I thought, okay let's try that...and then I decided I
needed a pimp, right?  So I've never done an interracial story, not a real
one, nor have I done a size story, so...That's where I decided to go and
why.  Some people wonder how long it takes to write a story, well this one
I started at 4:15am or so, and I finished it at almost exactly eight am
with a half hour break in there...so three hours for this chapter not
including this note, or the proofing.  That's about normal for me.  Two
thousand words an hour if I have to think and write while I'm typing.  It's
a lot faster if I have the story written in my head, and I type about 3
times faster when I'm transcribing notes or whatever.  I'm also a serious
morning person :) I like working before breakfast a lot more than after.

   Daddy's Little Whore By rache

   Chapter One: Deke's Phreak

   "Good morning, Daddy." I smiled at him as he came into the kitchen.  I
always made breakfast for him.

   "Hey Sammie." He always called me that, everyone did.  My real name is
Samantha.

   "Hmmm hold on." I clucked my tongue and fixed Daddy's tie while he
looked down at me.  You'd think a 42 year old man could tie his own tie,
but 3 days out of 5 I had to redo it for him.  I think he liked the
attention.

   "Thanks." He made a little face.

   "Uh-huh." I nodded.

   "I don't have time to eat, Sam, I'll..." He started syaing, but then he
saw the look on my face and decided to sit down.

   "That's what I thought." I smiled and sat down with him.

   "There should be a law against morning persons." He didn't have to eat
much anyway, toast and grapefruit, some orange juice and a little coffee.
His stomach didn't wake up until noon.

   "There should be a law against homework too, Daddy." I was eating
Cheerios and doing my math homework.  I always saved that for last cause it
was easiest.

   "So what are you doing today?" He asked me, like he usually did, since
this 20 minutes or so was our quality father-daughter time together, at
least for today.  We were pretty close to each other.

   "The usual." I shrugged.  "I'm gonna stay over at Jen's after school
though, remember?  Spend the night."

   "Yeah." Daddy nodded, we'd already talked about that.  "Here..." He
reached into his wallet and pulled out thirty dollars.  "In case you need
it."

   "Kay." I glanced at the money.  "I'll leave you something in the fridge
for dinner.  What are you doing tonight?"

   "The usual." Daddy shrugged.  "Watch the ballgame, fall asleep on the
couch, you know." He smiled, but he wasn't kidding either.

   "You need a girlfriend, Dad." I looked at him.

   "What do I need a girlfriend for?" He chuckled lightly.  "I've got you."

   "Yeah, for breakfast, but you need something to do at night." I told
him. "You need some companionship.  Fall asleep with someone for a change."

   "Samantha!" My dad looked suitably shocked that his 15 year old daughter
might suggest, even in the most subtle way that he should get laid.

   "What?" I stared at him and then smiled so that he would too.  "You need
a girlfriend, that's all I'm saying."

   "Yeah..." Daddy shrugged, but he didn't say anything more about it and I
let it go.

   My mom had died when I was born.  I'd almost died too, but I hadn't and
I was pretty glad about that.  Someone had to take care of my dad.  I
didn't mind either, cooking and cleaning, I even took care of the bills.  I
was good at that stuff and I think my dad felt a little guilty about it,
but he knew his limitations too.  He was a good engineer and he provided us
with a good life, but he really needed a wife to be complete.

   He was a good looking man too, for being in his forties like that.  Tall
with thinning brown hair, just a little receding hairline.  A pleasant
face, healthy body, not thin, but not fat either.  He looked good naked,
well half-naked anyway, I hadn't seen him completely naked since I was just
a toddler.  And neither of us had any interest in that.  He was my dad and
I was his wife for all practical purposes in every part of the house except
one...the bedroom.  He respected mine, and I respected his, and I'd gotten
the story about the birds and the bees and that had been that.

   I just wished he'd find a woman and get married, or at least live
together.  Or if they couldn't do that, just sleep together a few nights
every week.  I didn't think my father had gotten any sex since before I was
born.  Really, as I sat there eating breakfast with him, I'd have bet
anything and everything that my dad hadn't made love to a woman since he'd
last slept with my mom.

   I'd been having sex though.  For over a year and it was my big and dark
secret, for obvious reasons.  Being 13 and losing my virginity hadn't been
so bad, I mean it had hurt, emotionally more than physically because it had
turned out the only thing my boyfriend had wanted from me was my virginity,
but I'd gotten over that.  I'd learned quickly that when a boy tells you he
loves you...watch out.  They're after something and it isn't hard to figure
out what.

   I didn't really trust boys a whole lot anymore...Except my dad.  I
trusted him and I guess I was falling into that old stereotypical daughter
thing of looking for a guy like dad to fall in love with.  Not that I
really wanted to fall in love anyway.  I'd done that with my first
boyfriend, the guy who'd broken up with me two days after breaking my
cherry.  Love could wait.  I just wanted to have fun now, as much as I
could, and get good grades so I could go to a good college, get a good
degree and then a good job and then...a good husband.

   By that time I'd be old enough to find a man just like my dad.  See?  I
had it all worked out.

   The only thing I had to watch out for was the part about having fun.

   "Hey, baby." Some guy was saying and I rolled my eyes, slipping through
the crowded living room.

   We were at someone's house, but I had no idea whose.  Jen knew a girl
who knew a guy who knew a guy, and we'd found ourselves at a party in
Seattle, close to the University.  Everyone was older than we were, but
they didn't act like it.  I didn't act my age either.  Most people didn't
believe I was 15 years old, they thought I was more like 17 or even 18
maybe.  That's what growing up without a mom does to a girl I suppose.  I
didn't have a lot of experience with being childish or stupid, so I tended
towards serious and mature.  That was a pretty big turn on for the big kids
who went to the University.

   But so was my body, I suppose, if you happened to be into well developed
15 year old girls.  I was like 5'5" tall and 110 pounds, with nice boobs,
really nice.  They weren't huge, just 34B cups, but they defied gravity the
way a young woman's should, and I never wore a bra.  I hated those things
with a passion.  All my height came from my legs too, which were long and
smooth and toned from dance classes every Saturday morning since I was
five. I could dance, believe me, I was just getting too big for it and I
was right at that point where I either needed 3 more inches of height, or I
dropped about 10 pounds of weight.

   And I was never gonna be a ballerina anyway.  Or a gymnast.  I'd played
with that until I was 13 and a half, that's about the time I'd grown up
fast and gotten much too big and clumsy for the balance beam.  That was too
bad because I'd really liked gymnastics a lot, but I figured it would come
in handy when I went out for cheerleading next year in high school.

   I was doing my thing that night though, the having fun part, and I'd
dressed for it.  I had a secret stash of clothes at Jen's house because her
parents were the sort who respected a girl's privacy.  I mean my dad did
too, but not like Jen's parents who were old hippies from Haight-Ashbury or
someplace like that.  They even smoked pot and gave some to Jen, if you can
believe that, telling her it was okay so long as she did it in the house.
Jen hated them, but she was always sort of rebellious.  She'd have hated
them no matter what they did.  I liked them and I always told Jen that she
was lucky just to have two parents.

   It isn't something to take for granted, trust me on that.

   Anyway, I was wearing a really short blue skirt, made out of silk, but
totally wrinkled like crepe.  It was cool and it really let people see my
legs, and more if I wasn't careful.  If the slightest breeze came along I
was pulling a Marilyn Monroe, it was so flimsy.  Not to mention sitting
down.  I was wearing matching blue panties though, I mean exactly the same
color, which had taken awhile to find at the mall, but it worked.  If I
forgot to cover up, well people catching a glimpse just saw more skirt, or
so they'd wonder.

   My blouse was more homemade than anything else.  A black sleeveless
t-shirt that said 'I'm With Stupid' on the front, big white letters
stretched tightly across my boobs and an arrow pointing down...But I'd cut
it off so that it just said 'I'm With' and nothing else.  I'd made a fairly
straight hem around it, using some stretchy nylon stuff, and that had been
my project for Home Economics class.  I'd just gotten a B on it though,
because it wasn't all that much of a project.

   It looked cool though, just hugging my breasts hard enough so that my
nipples pushed out the cotton even when they were soft, which was rarely. I
think I was born with hard nipples.  And the bottom of my tits were often
visible because the hem would want to ride up a little.  It showed a lot of
skin and together with the skirt it was like wearing a neon sign that said
'Fuck me!' ...I thought it was cool.  I wore some shoes with 2" heels, not
too high, but they were comfortable, open toed, and they pushed my butt out
nicely.

   I have blonde hair, like whitish blond, almost platinum really under the
right lights.  I liked to color it though because it always looked boring
to me and I had some blue in it, just to match my skirt.  It was loose,
just below my shoulders and I was thinking of getting a French curl or
something, but those were expensive.  My eyes are blue, but not like my
skirt was, unfortunately.  They're darker than that and big and round, like
I'm always surprised at life.  I don't like my eyes.  I like my mouth
though, sort of small and pouting.  I have lips like Angelina Jolie,
collagen lips, and they didn't cost me a dime either.  A small cute little
nose and some high cheekbones, yeah I was pretty much irresistible when I
wanted to be.

   It got me out of a lot of trouble, believe me.  But good looks can get a
girl into trouble too; the hard part about growing up was learning to tell
the difference.

   "Hmmm, yum yum yum..."

   I had been drifting around the party, not knowing anyone really, and
giving the guys their 30 second shots at getting my interest.  Usually 30
seconds was too long as a lot of the guys were already drunk.  It was kind
of disappointing to find out that boys didn't really change a whole lot
between 9th grade and college.  They just got bigger, not smarter.

   "Hey." I smiled and sipped my drink, which was some sort of lemonade
with 5 or 6 different sorts of liquor in it.

   They called it 'Bullfrog' and whatever it was, one glass was going to do
me in so I'd poured half of it out and just walked around with the rest,
avoiding the frequent offers of a refill.  I wanted to have fun, to meet a
guy I could like for a few hours, and I'd been drunk before.  It hadn't
been fun at all.

   "Sup, baby?" He was black, but not Africa black, more like chocolate
black, Caribbean black, and he had the Marley t-shirt to go with it, but
thankfully not the dreadlocks.

   "Just me." I smiled and held up my drink a little.

   "Yes you are, mmm-mmmm..." He looked me up and down.  "I'm gonna call
you super phreak wit' a P...cause you're super phine..."

   "With a P?" I giggled and rolled my eyes.  He was cute though, except
the Snoop Dog act was a little over the top for me.

   "You know it, baby." He nodded and he had the biggest whitest teeth I'd
ever seen on anyone.

   "And so what are you?  Super phly?" I grinned up at him, since he was
about 6 feet tall at least.  "With another p?"

   "You know it!" He grinned too.  "You like that nigger talk?"

   "I live in Bellevue." I giggled.  "The only nigger talk I know is what I
see on TV."

   "Yeah, me too." He laughed.  "I'm Deke."

   "I'm Sammie." I tilted my head.  "Samantha."

   "Sammie's cool.  I'm an economics major, how about you?" He sounded like
a white guy now.

   "I'm a fun major." I shrugged, looking around and wondering if it wasn't
time to drift some more.

   "That's cool.  Fun is cool." Deke said, "How about we go have some fun
in my car?" He was wearing jeans and the t-shirt and a loose denim jacket.
He reached into an inside pocket and pulled out a joint.  "Better than that
stuff, I guarantee it."

   I looked down at my drink, it really wasn't very good and getting a
little high did sound like fun.

   "Sure." I nodded.  "I just have to find my friend."

   "Aw, he ain't gotta know bout us, baby." He drawled Snoop style.

   "He's a she and I don't wanna fall down on her, dog." I drawled back.

   "We ain't gonna be that long, come on...We'll find her later." He
insisted gently, taking my hand and I shrugged, figuring he was probably
right.

   He led me outside and the cool night air was a relief.  It had been hot
and smoky in that house.  I tossed my drink in the bushes and we walked
half a block up the street before Deke pulled out his keys, turning off the
alarm on a nice gold colored BMW with a little beep-beep and a flash of the
lights.

   "Nice car." I smiled, wondering how a University kid could afford wheels
like that.  We had a BMW at home and I knew exactly how much they cost
because I wrote the check every month, forging Daddy's signature at the
bottom because he would forget otherwise.

   "I'm an economics major." He smiled at me, opening the rear door on the
passenger side for me.

   "Driving Miss Daisy?" I giggled.

   "Huh?  Hell no, dis nigger don't drive nobody like dat nigger!" He
laughed as I got in.  "Scoot over, there's more room back here."

   There was a lot of room and he leaned between the seats, putting the
keys in the ignition so he could turn on the radio and drop the windows a
bit.

   "There we go." He pulled out his joint and opened the ashtray, pushing
in the cigarette lighter.  "Welcome to my crib, baby."

   "Thanks, wow." I made like I was looking around.  "All you need is an
Xbox."

   "Nah, Xbox is for fools.  That's George W.  Bush pushing the New World
Order into the next generation."

   "Is it?" I laughed.  "And I figured you for a GTA pimp my ride kinda
guy."

   "I'm pimpin, baby, no doubt." He said seriously.  "But not my mind."

   "Good." I nodded, not really knowing what to say.  Truth was this was
the longest conversation I'd ever had with a black guy.  My previous best
was 'I'd like a number 3 with a coke, please.' at McDonald's.

   "I'm serious." The lighter popped and he pulled it, lighting the joint
with a bunch of quick puffs, starting the paper on fire briefly.  Then he
sucked it deep, hissing a little and handed it to me.

   "How old are you, anyway?" He asked, his voice husky as he held the
smoke and then exhaled slowly.

   "Fifteen." I shrugged, figuring there was no sense in lying about it. 
Sometimes I did, but mostly I didn't.  I'd never gotten kicked out of a
guy's car for being too young.

   "That's cool." He nodded, taking the joint back as I held the smoke for
a few seconds.  It was good weed, really smooth.  "I didn't figure you went
to school here."

   "Why not?" I asked, feeling just a little insulted for some reason, like
maybe I wasn't good enough for college or something.

   "Cause." He took a puff and held the joint for a moment.  "I'd have seen
you before."

   I giggled and took the joint from him.  "Yeah right, there's a zillion
girls around here." I took a hit and I was already feeling warm inside.

   "Yeah, and I know all of 'em, believe me." He nodded and smiled.  "It's
my job baby, my mission."

   "Your job, huh." I laughed.  "That pays for your crib?"

   "Oh yeah." He took the joint back.  "Pays for this fine pain killer too.
How you feeling?"

   "Like my toes are on fire." I giggled, thinking that was pretty funny
for some reason."

   "Let me see." He held the joint between his swollen lips and reach down,
grabbing my ankles and pulling my feet into his lap so I had to turn my
body.

   "You the fire department?" I took the joint back, taking another hit as
he began taking off my shoes.

   "Gimme that." He laughed, taking the joint back and then putting it out
carefully in the ashtray.  "Your toes start burning and you had enough, we
don't need no spontaneous human combustion in my car."

   "Mmmm...Okay..." I nodded, just smiling away as Deke went to work on my
feet.  "I heard that about you guys...black guys..."

   "What's that?  We like fried chicken?" He had great hands, big hands,
and soft and warm.

   I giggled.  "No, well...yeah..." I grinned.  "That too...no, I mean
about the foot massage thing..."

   "That ain't a black thing, that's a man thing." Deke chuckled.  "A man
ain't a real man if he don't know da toe!"

   "Know da toe?" I laughed out loud.

   "Dat's right, you gotta know da toe if you gonna show da ho..."

   "Show da ho what?" I couldn't stop giggling to save my life.

   "Shhh..." He teased me.  "What else you little rich white girls hear
about us poor black guys that is all wrong?"

   "Uhhh...You guys don't um...go down?" I offered, blushing a little, but
not very much, I was way too comfortable and he was working my calves now.

   "We don't go...What?  We don't go down?  Shit, who told you that lie? 
We go all the way downtown, baby!  You get on with a brother and you on the
number 69 bus, you know what I mean?"

   "I heard it was just the number 9 bus." I laughed.  "And I'd have to get
a transfer if I wanted the full ride."

   "Shit." He massaged my legs and I was getting butterflies as I watched
his dark hands in the dim light.  "Get a transfer...You ever see that movie
Speed?  That's it baby, the 69 bus goin downtown with no brakes."

   I laughed and shook my head.  "Uh-huh, okay.  How about you, what do you
guys hear about catholic schoolgirls like me?"

   "You're catholic?" He grinned at me.  "I hear all kinds of things about
you."

   "Like what?" I spread my legs a little for him, knowing he couldn't
really get a good look at my panties, but not minding too much if he did.

   "Ummm..." He pushed his big lips out a little.  "You swallow, huh?"

   "What?" I gasped in shock, leaning forward and then clapping my hands
and laughing.  It was a good high.

   "Catholic girls swallow, everybody knows that." He said, playing with my
knees.  "Tell me I'm lyin."

   "No, uh...you ain't lyin." I looked up like I was all guilty playing
innocent.

   "See, we don't bullshit in the hood, baby."

   "Yeah.  Okay uh...what else?"

   "Catholic girls like the dark meat."

   "Like the dark meat?" I spread my legs just a little more, he was
rubbing my thighs and it felt good.  "You mean we like that big, black..."

   "Uh-huh..." He laughed.  "Keep going...that big, black...

   "...fat, hard..."

   "...Yeah baby...you know it..."

   "...hot..."

   "Mmm...say it..."

   "...cock?" I gave him a well practiced look, real coy like I'd never
said that word before in my life.

   "...Oh yeah." He was squeezing my firm toned thighs.

   "I heard all black guys were really, really big." I said.  "That true?"

   "Everybody says so." He smiled.  "You think they're makin it up?"

   "Welllll..." I laughed.

   "I can't speak for all my brothers, you understand, but..."

   "But...?" I rolled my hand.

   "...But yeah, this nigger's hung, baby." He nodded, looking me in the
eye.  "You don't wanna know what's waitin' for you down here!" Deke rubbed
his crotch for a moment, smiling as my eyes followed his hand.

   "Waiting for me huh?" I licked my lips.

   "If you want it.  If you're phreaky for it...if you ain't, shit I
understand.  Little girl like you..."

   "Little girl like me?" I frowned at him.

   "...Probably a virgin too." He laughed at me, letting go of my leg with
his other hand and leaning back with his arms spread.  "You oughta find
yourself a cute little white guy and..."

   "I'm not a virgin." I said, feeling a little defensive, like I had
something to prove.

   "Let's smoke some more weed." He said, reaching for the ashtray.

   "I don't want to." I said.  "I want to fuck."

   "Ohhh shit, girl...you got a button, huh?" He laughed.  "Get in the
backseat and you want it."

   "Yeah." I nodded.  "I want it."

   "Well..." He shrugged.  "Come and get it then, let's see your shit."

   I licked my lips nervously, but I was more excited than scared.  I
definitely wasn't anybody's little girl.  This guy didn't know me.  I might
have had sex with him anyway, I mean it was fun just talking and fooling
around and getting high, and we'd been getting hot just talking, but he'd
found my button, sure enough.  I was definitely gonna do it now.

   I'd been the lady of the house since I was in third grade and if it had
done nothing else for me, it had given me a serious ego.  This guy, this
black nigger who couldn't decide if he was uptown or ghetto, he was going
to call me a little girl?  A virgin?  I didn't think so.  I was a grown
woman, masquerading as a 15 year old, life had made sure of that and I was
going to prove it.

   Of course I was higher than a kite too, so that didn't help.  But
honestly, I think the outcome would have been the same anyway.  I've never
been much for excuses.

   I crawled over that big back seat, putting my left hand on Deke's hard
thigh and my right hand on top of the bulge in his jeans.  There was
something down there, hidden away, big and not so hard yet.  I moved my
face close to his and he let me kiss him.  I mean he didn't move an inch,
he was waiting for me like he was used to it.  Mostly guys couldn't wait
and I was smothered with their lips, but not Deke.  He was cool and he just
waited for me.  It was a little frustrating and his confidence pissed me
off even more.  After my first boyfriend had broken my heart, I'd been the
one with confidence, determined never to fall for that again, and it had
worked...until now.

   I'd never been with a black guy.  Never wanted to.  Not cause I had any
real prejudice or anything, I just didn't know any.  I figured black guys
were like everybody else, good and bad, and in between.  Now I'd met one
and well, maybe I was prejudiced.  I was kissing a black guy, feeling his
swollen black lips on mine, pushing my little pink tongue between them,
into his warm wet mouth.  It made me feel different, different than being
with a white guy.  Like dirty, kinda, and I hate admitting that.

   There was nothing dirty about Deke.  He was a good looking man, maybe 20
or 21 years old I guess, with a handsome face, short kinky hair, and a
great body.  He smelled good, he smelled like Irish Spring and a little pot
smoke.  He was hard with muscular legs and chest and a firm stomach and a
nice ass that I'd taken the time and effort to check out back in the house.
He had a nice car, he could talk like a normal person, he was funny...But
he was black.  My dad didn't have any black friends, and none my friends
had any black friends.  I'd dated a Mexican guy once, well just for two
days, but it hadn't felt like this.  I'd had sex with a Chinese guy, half
Chinese, his dad was Canadian.  It hadn't felt like this.

   I was making out with a black guy and it was like...perverted.  Black on
white.  All black guys wanted to do was fuck white girls.  I'd heard that
one.  They just wanted to put a black baby in a white girl's belly to get
even for a million years of slavery.  I'd never owned a slave.  My
grandparents had stepped off the boats a long time after the Civil War and
they hadn't owned slaves.  So why was I feeling weird?

   Once you go black, you'll never go back.  I'd heard that before too,
from other little white catholic schoolgirls who had even less idea than me
what it meant.  It was just something to say because everyone knew black
guys had huge cocks.  But I seriously doubted that would change my mind
about my own kind.

   My own kind...that sounded dumb.  But that was the thrill too, he was
black and I was white and if my Daddy ever found out what his little girl
was doing he'd probably use the N word, and not in the teasing, friendly
way that I'd been using it with Deke, who'd brought it up in the first
place.  It was okay to call a black guy a nigger if he was rubbing your
feet and sharing a joint and talking about how much he loved riding that
number 69 bus.  Yeah...

   "My nigger..." I whispered with a giggle, just because I could.

   "Mmmm...I like the way you say that, bitch..."

   "Bitch?" I kissed him hard and felt his big fat tongue filling my little
hungry mouth.

   "Yeah, you gonna be my little white bitch now, baby..." He brought his
hand up, grabbing at my left boob and giving it a nice squeeze.

   "Oh yeah..." I sighed, massaging his penis through his jeans.  "...I'm
your bitch."

   "Shit...you ain't 15..." He kissed my mouth, sucking my pouting lips. 
"...ain't no way you're fifteen."

   Deke pulled my t-shirt up, just so it was above my breasts and he held
them in his big hands, massaging the nipples with his thumbs while I worked
to free his penis.  He was lighting a serious fire inside me and I was
getting almost desperate to see what I was getting myself into.  Or what
was getting into me, maybe.  When I got his pants undone finally, and
reached inside, I gasped at the realization that he was bigger than I ever
imagined.

   "Oh god..." I pulled his cock free.  It felt like it weighed 10 pounds
in my hand, semi-hard and maybe 7 or 8 inches long and as thick as my
wrist, I swear.  It wasn't funny at all.  He was uncircumcised and I got
down low, squinting a little in the weak light, watching as the foreskin
slipped back easily over the bulbous head.

   "You like that, bitch?" He smiled at me; I could hear it in his voice.

   "It's huge." I said, the wonder plain as day in my voice.

   I stroked it slowly, with both hands and it lengthened even more.  It
had to be 10 inches long, maybe even a foot, but it wasn't like I had a
tape measure in my purse.  I wish I had one though, just so I could say
with certainty how large Deke truly was.  It was a black monster, the
biggest cock I'd ever seen in my life and it was hot and throbbing and I
wondered how it could get so hard and straight.  It was heavy!

   "Suck on it...Go on...eat some of that dark meat, baby..." Deke was
pushing my head down gently, urging me to kiss it.

   I touched my lips to it carefully, as if I expected it to burn me or
something, and to my surprise I found it was much like any other cock I'd
kissed up to that time.  It was just black and big, that's all, and even
being black it didn't look all that different since it was dark in the car
anyway.  It was just a big cock and I started kissing and licking it all
over.  I sort of went a little crazy with it, like I was starving or
something.

   "Ummmm...slow down, girl...shit, bitch...watch the teeth...damn..."

   I was all over that cock with my mouth, playing gentle and rough,
getting the whole thing nice and wet while my hands were sliding back and
forth, up and down, one atop the other.  I licked and sucked at his skin,
velvet smooth and a little salty maybe.  I could smell his sex, his balls
and pubic hair and I went down low, taking his testicles in my mouth.  They
were big too and loose in his scrotum.  I washed them thoroughly and Deke
loved that, he kept me sucking his balls for a good five minutes at least.

   When I tried to get his cock in my mouth though, that was a different
story.  I had a sexy mouth, yeah, great lips and a mouth watering smile,
but it wasn't very big and I couldn't get anything but the head of his
penis inside.  No matter what I did, that was it.  My lips were stretched
tight and I finally settled for that, working my tongue all around the head
of Deke's big nigger cock while my hands pumped the length of his hard
shaft.  I was just jerking him off in my mouth and that was okay for him,
and maybe that was all he expected.  I'd been hoping for a little more than
that, fooling myself with the idea that somehow I'd deep throat that
monster and really show the guy I wasn't a little girl.

   "Yeah....ummm...we ready to do it now, girl...ready to bust some now..."
Deke was moving us, putting me on my back on the seat and he reached up,
turning on the reading light above my head so we could see.  He pulled off
my skirt and then my panties, smiling down at me with his big white teeth
as I lifted my butt to help him.

   "Oughta call you Pinky, girl." Deke laughed softly, fingering my pussy
for a moment.  I was hot and wet and pink, no doubt, and moved my hips,
moaning softly as his fingers stoked the furnace of my young sex.

   "Look at that...you think you gonna take all that, baby?" He pressed his
penis against my tummy, his balls hanging down against my moist sex.  His
cock stretched from my slit, over my clit and mound, all the way up to my
belly button and two inches past it.  No kidding.  It looked even bigger
like that than it had when I'd been trying to suck it.

   "Oh God..." I swallowed nervously, shaking my head.

   "I put it in you and it's gonna go up to here..." He pressed his finger
into my stomach, just at the end of his cock.  "You want that?"

   "Y-Yeah..." I breathed, but I was still shaking my head.

   "That's my bitch..." Deke laughed.  "I'm gonna break some...you ain't
never been fucked before, girl, never!"

   I was scared to death, wondering if he really would break something.  I
mean he could, he was that big and I wasn't even close to being a virgin,
but there's a big difference between a well hung guy with a 7 inch cock and
a well hung nigger with 12 inches of hard meat between his legs.  I'd had a
guy bottom out before and it was a bit of a mood spoiler, actually.  It
hurt.  If Deke pushed that thing into me it was going to do more than hurt,
it was gonna kill me!

   "Where's my...There we go..." Deke was digging through his jacket, which
he'd taken off, and I was glad he had a condom.

   I had some too, in my purse, and I usually made my boyfriends use them.
I always did, actually, and me being me and boys being boys, they always
agreed.  But I'd totally forgotten about it this time, and that was both
understandable and frightening.  I'd been a little busy worrying about
dying to think about birth control, and besides, I seriously doubted the
Trojans I had in my purse were gonna fit Deke.  They said one size fit all,
but they were lying, I was sure.  Or at the least a little too optimistic.

   "Gotta be cool with my tool, baby..." He was smiling at me, rolling his
condom down his cock and it was stretched thin barely halfway down the
shaft.  "I don't know what kinda shit you white bitches might have...sickle
cell maybe..." He laughed.

   "What?" I asked him, not understanding what he was talking about.

   "Nothin, bitch..." Deke shook his head.  "...Let's fuck..."

   "Yeah..." I took a deep breath.

   I stared as Deke brought the huge swollen head of his black cock, now
covered with light colored latex rubber, to my all too small pussy.  I had
just a little blonde pubic hair, thin and light, hiding nothing at all.  My
clit was hard, like a little pink missile ready to shoot at the slightest
touch.  I could feel it thrumming eagerly for contact.  My lips were pink
and wet and pushed out just a little, all swollen with excitement.  I
couldn't breath and my heart was pounding.  I was afraid to blink my eyes.

   "Ohhh..." I grimaced, baring my teeth and pushing down with my stomach
muscles as I felt my pussy stretching around Deke's cock.  It wasn't so
painful though, not as much as it looked, but I could definitely feel it.
He was pushing his dick in slowly, feeding it to me as he held it in his
right hand.  His left hand held my right foot up, in the rear window of the
car.  It was like my whole pussy was being pushed inside itself, my lips,
my clit, everything, being pushed into my cunt along with his cock, and
then I did feel it.

   "Ahhh....god...slow...please...stop..." I was gasping, finally breathing
again and that helped, but my pussy was being stretched now.  He was in it,
shoving the soft walls of my vagina apart and my muscles were protesting
loudly.

   "Just breathe, baby...Relax....this ain't so bad...relax and make it
feel good..." Deke was talking to me, not moving and letting me get used to
it, as if I ever would.

   "It's too big..." I licked my lips.  "...I can't do it..."

   "Yeah you can, Sammie...just like this now..." Deke reassured me and
then he was pushing again, and pulling back, and pushing.  A little deeper
each time and I was nodding, biting my lips, sucking air and digging my
fingers into the cool leather seat beneath me.

   "Ah!...Mmmm..." I winced as his cock touched my cervix, the bottom of my
pussy and he stopped.  He was three quarters of the way in, maybe a little
more, but there were still 3 or 4 fat inches left.

   "Shhh...you're okay...just that far, baby...that's all..." Deke was very
considerate, I'll tell you that.  But I suppose he had to be with a cock
that big.  I'm sure it was hard for him, and he probably just wanted to
throw my legs over his shoulders and fuck me hard, but he didn't.  He was
slow and careful and he talked all the time.

   "You look so good, baby...open your eyes...let me see those baby blue
eyes you got...foxy freaky bitch...ummm you're so good...so tight, baby..."

   I could barely understand what he was saying half the time though.  I
was in my own world, my tiny cunt being stretched to its limits.  Every
time he'd pull back it was like he was turning me inside out, and we were
so tight, it was like a vacuum inside.  My cunt was stretched around him,
sealed snug and the pink flesh dragged around his penis like a hot vise.

   We were fucking though, finally, and he'd give me half of his cock,
working it in and out, faster and faster, just nudging my cervix once in
awhile and it was feeling good, even that bit of pain, because I was
overboard.  I was cumming lights out.  My clit was rubbing the shaft, being
pulled against it as my vulva was ploughed under, over and over again. 
That man could fuck!  I was high on something else now, endorphins or
something, and I was flying full of butterflies.

   Deke did get my legs over his shoulders and it even gave him another
inch he could get inside me, and then another one after that.  I was
delirious I think, watching his face, his handsome black features.  He was
fucking me good now, like I'd never been fucked before in my life.  I was a
virgin all over again, a little white girl getting her first taste of big
black nigger cock.  He had pushed me into that place where everything feels
good and the body is immune to a little thing like pain.  I was on a
runner's high and he grinned at me, telling me he was all the way in.

   He'd done it and I could feel his balls against my butt, slapping me
wetly as sweat and juices ran down my thighs and ass.  He'd pushed his cock
12 inches deep into my hole, opened my cervix, or something, shoved it out
of the way maybe, and I might have felt fear at the thought that he could
really be hurting me in there.  But I was cumming, over and over and all I
could do was hold onto him.

   "Now baby...oh shit..." Deke was letting me go, pulling his cock free
and I was dazed and confused until he brought his cock to my face.  He
straddled my heaving body, pulling off the condom and then pushing the head
into my open mouth, forcing it inside my stretched lips just as the first
heavy spurt of his nigger cum filled my mouth.  I swallowed instinctively,
just to keep from drowning really.  I was still lost in my most recent
orgasm and I swallowed hard and fast until I coughed and choked and
surrendered,

   Deke pulled out and I breathed hard, sperm and spit running from my
mouth even as he sprayed more of his goo on my face, painting me with it as
he stroked that monster slowly.  I was soaked, literally, from my hair down
to my chin, from ear to ear, and Deke laughed as he rubbed his heavy cock
over my lips and nose and cheeks.  He even pushed one of his heavy black
balls into my mouth, letting me suck on it as his penis dribbled sperm into
my hair.

   "That was a great fuck, bitch...you're my new ho now...fuck that was
good..." He was using his penis to shovel his sperm into my open mouth and
I swallowed it obediently, unable to do anything else and thinking he
wasn't any different than a white guy.  He tasted pretty much the same to
me.  There was just more of it, which made sense didn't it?  I giggled and
rolled my eyes, finally catching my breath.

   "Yep...you're my phreak now, slut...we gonna make lotsa green...you my
bling-bling baby ho!..."

   I just stared up at the man, having no idea what he was talking about.
But right then he owned me; there was no doubt about that.  His cock owned
my little white ass and there wasn't a thing I could do about it.  There
wasn't a thing I wanted to do about it.  I was Deke's Phreak now...with a
capital P.

   End chapter 1 To Be Continued rache696@yahoo.com
http://www1.asstr.org/~rache/index.htm







   "


   

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