The Family BBC – Chapter 2

As I was toweling myself, leaving one dry for him, he entered the tiny room. “Not enough space to hump a chicken in!” He snorted a laugh.

“I’m leaving.” I meant I was going to get my clothes, keys, purse and drive away.

“You better be here when I get out of the shower.” He glowered. “I got miles of fucks backed up in my balls.”

I tried to shut the door but he stopped it with a slap of his hand. I tiptoed to the bed and collected my clothes into a pile at the corner nearest to the front door. I lifted my panties and stared at them. A rush of water sounded from the bathroom. I half expected the contented black geezer to sing.

My purse lay on the floor. My credit card, soiled from hiring a sleazy motel room, stared up at me. The picture on my driver’s license had a blank expression. I picked them up and dropped them into the purse. Taking out my phone, my heart raced as fast as it had when I was being fucked against my will.

I looked at my reflection in its glossy surface while water dashed against shower tiles and against the stranger’s thick body. I tapped a speed dial.

“Leen?” George sounded only slightly worried, from the speaker touching my ear. I’d been gone for less than two hours.

“George-“

“What the heck was that message you sent?” He interrupted. “And why voicemail?”

“You gotta listen, George. A man took me to a hotel. He-“

“You’re cheating on me?” His voice cracked and squeaked from shock!

“I didn’t mean to!” His interruptions were angering me.

“Did he rape you?!” George almost shouted into the phone. “I’ll be right there!”

His concern cut my anger in half. “GEORGE! LISTEN!”

“I’m sorry!” He sounded repentant.

“I was at the park. I considered walking into the surf and swim until I couldn’t return to shore. You. The kids. It was too much! You said you wanted to escape our family! How do you think I felt?”

“I don’t understand, but I was on the brink too. I’ll come get you.”

“Don’t make this about you, George!”

A large, black hand grabbed the phone. “George, you fucked up! I just washed my cum and your wife’s pussy juice from my big black dick, and she didn’t run. Don’t expect her home for a few more hours.” The stranger grunted a laugh. “A hard up guy like me, might keep her all night. What your wife wants from you – is to hold yourself back from jerking off about it.” He shut off the phone and flipped the silence switch.

Then he threw the phone at me! It smashed into my tits. “OWW!” I raised my arms against potential blows. He raised an open palm. “That was stupid.”

His hand lowered but then he grabbed my shoulders and twisted me as he plopped his butt on the edge of the bed. I suddenly found myself thrown across his lap. “What are you doing?”

“Treating you right, Bitch.” Holding me down with his right hand, his left arm flew and and down. His off hand cracked against my bare behind! “You should have left, but then you used your fucking phone!?” SMASH!

I howled! The first swat had been more surprising than painful. He kept beating my ass, and I wailed like a trapped schoolgirl! “You warned me not to leave!”

“Fuck that, Bitch!” CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! “What are you, seven?”

I strained to twist off of his lap, but his right hand dug into my neck length hair and clenched. “OOOWWWWW!!!”

“If you really hated getting fucked by my dirty cock, I’d be jerking off right now.” His hand was turning my ass purple!

“OWW! OW! I hate you!”

SMASH! “Tell me the truth, Cunt! Hells, I bet your getting wet already!”

His accusation forced my attention to my abused sex. Before I could sense if he was right, he beat my ass again. My body lurched from the impact. “OWW! STOP! STOP IT!!”

Abruptly, he pushed me off of his lap, and I felt to the stained and unpleasant carpet. “Now suck my dick, or I’ll really get angry!”

Dazed from my fall, I looked up blinking. His cock was all that I could see. My right hand shook, reaching for it. Grabbing it grounded my confusion but did nothing for the pain in my behind. My eyes lifted and saw his glare. It had a slight smirk. “Go on.” He urged.

My other hand also took hold of the soft member. I got to my knees, lifting my sore butt off of the carpet and positioning myself before the old black dude. The smirk in his glare widened. Casting my eyes down, I oriented my face by feel, hefted his large penis and placed the head to my lips. It was getting hard again, under my fingers.

“I’m not going to smack you for hesitating, but you better not leave me in the lurch.”

I kept my eyes averted from his growing dick. At least it smelled better. However, the man didn’t know or care about how well he cleaned his groin.

“Give it a kiss, Lady. Then take in what you can. Use your hands where your face can’t reach.”

I wished I could melt into the carpet to become another stain. Why hadn’t I fled while he was showering?

He hunched slightly forward, tapping my lips with the head of his black cock. I didn’t kiss him, but I opened my jaw and fed several inches into my mouth. My lips sealed around it, and my tongue started licking about four inches of dick, including the head. It tasted like a hastily rinsed glass of sour milk.

Two hands no longer fit what remained outside. I moved a hand to his knee for support. The other slowly jerked within the inch or two not covered by one hand. I started sucking.

Two inches of jerking room expanded into three. The inches in my mouth, also expanded, filling out my cheeks. If it had hardened fully, it would have gagged me.

“You ain’t no whore. That’s for sure.” He chuckled. “Keep going. I’ll be hard again quick enough.”

Bobbing my head, I let it fuck in and out of my sucking lips. This allowed me to escape from choking on his growing dick.

He leaned forward and a hand grabbed my brown hair. I froze.

“Good. Now take a deep breath and swallow as much prick as you can.” He didn’t tug my hair, but the threat was obvious. I filled my lungs and prepared myself mentally. I had some experience with stifling my gag reflex, from using a tongue scraper as far as it could reach. I leaned forward and relaxed my gullet.

Too many inches of fat cock invaded my throat. My lungs immediately wanted to cough it out! But I persisted until I couldn’t resist choking any longer!

I gagged then and pulled back. That’s when his fingers dug into my hair and held me choking against his suffocating prick!

Panic swept through my mind. I flailed my arms, batting his thighs and the arm securing my head over more than half of his nearly hard cock!

I could feel myself starting to black out when he scooted back on the bed, pulling his shaft out of my face. I gasped and coughed!

With my hair still in his grip, he drew me up from kneeling and then pulled, tipping me on top of him. My belly slapped the length of his fat prick. My boobs flattened against his broad chest. His belly jiggled beneath me. “Now put it in.” He let go of my hair.

I hesitated again, hating myself for continuing to be emotionally trapped by the old man’s aura of authority. He’d done nothing to make me trust him, but I was unable to convince myself that he was truly dangerous.

While contemplating my pathetic surrender, a strange mood overcame me as if I had lost something difficult but important – and had gained something superficial but comfortable.

“Here.” He grabbed my right hand and stuffed it between our soft bellies. The nail on my middle finger scraped his hard penis. He grunted, his patience clearly waning.

I drew back and lifted my hips, straddling his waist with my knees. This gave me room to grasp his full erection and aim it between my thighs. To delay further would only goad the old black man who had taken control of me.

I rubbed the flaring head of his stiff prick along the groove of my vulve, pressing it between the lips but not inserting it further. I didn’t want to be dry again when he began ramming me. To distract him, I dangled my tits across his mouth. He reached up, grabbed both, and started mauling them. “Gods, I could get use to these titties for dessert and or breakfast.” He nommed fervently. I whimpered and whined from his not so gentle bites, chewing, and pinching. Still I managed to keep rubbing my vulva with his prick head, and the faucet for my natural lubrication cracked open slightly. His rough work on my nipples increased the flow.

I soon found myself rubbing my clit exclusively with his cock head, before I realized how aroused I had become. Blushing hotly, I pushed it back to the hidden opening to my vagina and slowly sat on it. The bulbous tip popped through.

“Ohhh. You’re wet this time.” He grunted. “I don’t hate it, but now you owe me, you sneaky slut.” He hunched his hips upward and sank nearly half of his cock up my fuck chute. The amused but cheated man grabbed my shoulders and pulled, forcing my cunt to devour the remaining inches of his fat dick!

“AAHHHH!!” I groaned. It was too much, too quickly! “Take it easy, please!”

“I’m not doing this for you.” To emphasize his selfishness, he twisted his body, toppling me to his right. My left side hit the mattress, but his embedded pylon stabilized me. He heaved himself up and over on top of me. Grinning, he planted his lips on mine and tried to stick his tongue into my mouth!

His hips drew back, unpacking most of his pecker out of my cunt. They thrust forward, and like a steam engine, pistoning strokes within my oiled shaft, built up speed. His big black cock rammed and hoed the insides of an unhappy pussy. His powerful thrusts didn’t hurt much, but each impact against my cervix caused me to yelp! “AAA!!”

A third pain, of being jammed full of stiff prick meat, felt like my cunt was be blown up like a balloon, but instead of air, I was being filled with dense flesh! “Nnngghh!!” I squeaked!

“Yeah, I’m gonna fuck you into a pile of defeated meat, ready to use whenever I want. Hrrrgghh!!” He groaned and pumped his huge member in and out of my suffering pussy! “Not. Gonna. Cum for. Long – time.” He growled!

The one distraction from the pains of being stabbed vaginally, was the pressure applied intermittently to my clit through the straining flesh separating them. I knew that a few women, like me, had insensitive G-spots, but I guessed that the brief, pleasurable spasms from my clit were as close to it as I would ever feel. Of course George didn’t have the equipment to pack my cunt with thick cock. He and I would manually stimulate my clit during sex.

“Gods! your cunt is fucking perfect!” The old man heaving on top of me, shouted. The bed shook like a machine was vibrating it. Heavy slaps of crotch on crotch sounded through the cheap motel room. My grunts and groans only inflamed the randy black!

I started clawing the bed covers instead of giving him the satisfaction of hearing me in pain. I clenched my lips and felt tears form behind my eyes. How could I have fallen so low as to let a stranger use me however he pleased? I was a pathetic mess with no future. I’d be divorced and alone because I wouldn’t fight to keep our kids. The aging, fat brute battered me inside and out. My body slumped beneath him, my muscles surrendering to his pounding loins.

The small pleasures pulsing from my clit could never outpace my wellspring of self-doubt and loathing. Even my shame was knocked down by the man’s strenuous heaves and slams! I felt empty, worthless, useful only to those who took what they wanted from my skin sack of dead meat.

Utterly destitute of will, my tears could not be held back. Sobs escaped surrendering lips. I squinted and cringed my head from the expected blow.

SMACK! “You’re fucking crying again.” The crack of his hand wasn’t as heavy as I expected. “Hate that.” Anger slowed his heaving butt.

SMACK! He slapped me with his other hand. His cock stilled but fully packed my straining receptical. My tears dripped from his hand. He shook off the salty drops.

I dared to look at his face. Glaring eyes fueled a determined expression. I frowned and shrank as far into the lumpy mattress as I could. “I can’t stop.” I shut my view of his displeasure and blubbered wordlessly.

Strong arms dug under my naked torso. They wrapped behind me, lifting my tits. He lay fully upon me. His chest flattened my boobs. His head shifted to my left until his forehead rested on the bed. “Get a grip.” He commanded softly.

I feared he would squeeze me dry of tears. His embrace remained relaxed though. His weight made it difficult to breath which slowed my sobs, and his fat pecker, straining my cunt, waited impatiently inside of me.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“You’re a sorry mess of a cunt.” He grunted. “I can’t change that, but I won’t let a few stupid tears ruin my luck today.” His hips pulled back, just a little. A couple inches of impacted prick withdrew from my pained twat. The pain eased.

He raised his groin further from mine, dredging out nearly half of his wide shaft. The pressure in my cunt vanished. I sighed but had difficulty replacing the expended breath.

He nestled his head in the crook between my right shoulder and neck. His breaths at my ear sounded like a buffalo’s. His ass moved fore and downward, sinking most of what he’d withdrawn back into my recuperating hole. The slow but irresistible reinsertion of hard cock didn’t surprise me. What did were my arms lifting up and around his back, fingertips barely overlapping.

I continued to cry but my sobs gave out. He fucked me slowly, hips grinding heavily but in no hurry. His cock stuffed my battered recess again and again but no longer slammed my cervix. I hugged him as gently as he fucked me. I worried, however, that he wasn’t finished breaking me to conform to his will.

He humped slowly, steadily, and powerfully. The on and off pressure stimulating my clit sent greater pleasure through my senses, causing me to breathing faster, but his great weight dampened my arousal.

Time seemed to slow down and speed up. I found myself watching rays of light, seeping through the curtain, diminish as dusk and then twilight covered the city. The old, black man had incredible stamina for his age and flab. Our bodies rocked back and forth for what seemed like a few minutes but had been much longer.

When he stopped, I didn’t guess the reason at first. He grunted loudly from intense relief. Hot cum splashed upon the deepest recess of my vagina. His hips shook as bolts of fresh semen painted my cervix.

Cum squirted out from around our interlocking sexes. My loins shuddered from unexpected pulses of hot spunk filling them. Maybe I even had a small orgasm, but that was unlikely. It’s effect didn’t reach farther than my navel.

The last of his seed flowed steadily into me. I realized I had stopped crying somewhere between sunset and twilight.

The old man rolled off of me and sank into his side of the bed, his strength expended perhaps. He breathed slowly but deeply. “Next time…” It was a certifiable threat.

I shrank away. The two words instilled cold wariness in my heart. He was not to be trifled with in his current state. I suspected two forces conflicted within his heart. Although satisfied by his orgasm, he remained frustrated by my failure to hold back my tears.

Darkness filled the room. I waited several minutes before asking. “May I switch on a lamp?”

“Whatever.” He continue to struggle for steady breaths. I slowly understood how deeply his exertion had taxed him.

Despite my fear that he would suddenly grab me and extract his threatened pound of flesh, my bladder had first complained about its needs while he was still grinding his cock through my pussy. The black man’s weight had nearly caused me to piss into the bed!

I crept off of the bed, mumbling, “Bathroom.”

He didn’t respond. I scurried to the toilet and let go a torrent of stifled urine. Pissing that pint gave greater joy than the small tremor I’d felt in my loins when my captor flooded my cunt with cum.

His breathing had changed when I returned from the toilet. The old man had fallen asleep! I stood at the foot of the bed, suddenly unable to form a coherent thought. I trembled not from uncertainty of his slumber, but the sudden weight of myself crashing upon my soul. My responsibilities, my connections to others, my own wishes all clawed their way into my empty heart. I looked down.

The pile of my clothes had falled to the carpet. He had mocked me for not escaping while he showered. Did I dare dress and slip out before he could stop me?

I reached down and tenuously lifted my panties. Staring like a guilty owl, I watched the heavyset black man’s chest rise and fall. His dick had retreated to a size just below that of a porn star who could actually act. It lay limp across his left thigh.

I stepped into my panties and slid them up my legs. My hands released the waistband slowly to avoid the slightest snap against my waist.

To save time, I put on my blouse next, intending to either carry my bra with me or abandoning it. I didn’t even pull on my socks before slipping the first shoe on my right foot and cinching the strap.

KNOCK! KNOCK!! “Colleen! Are you in there. Are you okay? My phone says your phone is in there!” George had tracked down my phone by the loss prevention feature.

I stumbled to the door and unlocked it blindly. My eyes refused to leave the black man’s figure. He snorted and grunted, his weight shifting left and right. I opened it enough for George to see my face. I hissed, “GO AWAY!!”

“I can’t!” He was frantic. “Not after what that man said on the phone. Is he in there? I’ll call the cops.” He looked down and swiped the surface of his phone.

I opened the door wider and thrust a hand out, slapping George’s phone from his grip! “Don’t be stupid!” It bounced on the catwalk and fell over the edge!

George, his dear soul, didn’t chase it. He looked back at me. “What’s happened to you, Leen?” His reaction was pure confusion. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t find you sooner!”

A deep voice behind me shot terror up my spine. “Don’t forget your fucking purse, Cunt!”

My husband reacted similarly to me. He trembled but froze. His face was a mask of fright. “What did he do to you?” He was imagining the most awful things!

“Idiot!” Upon seeing how spineless my husband was, my survival instincts finally kicked in. I turned back inside, my face as fearful as George’s, but I resisted the old man’s glare long enough to grab my purse, phone, and other shoe. I fled then, nearly bowling my husband over.

I dashed down the catwalk. George stumbled after me. Some of the outside lights actually worked, and we managed to not trip while descending the stairs. I raced to my Volvo, dumping everything on the heat stained hood. Grabbing the keys from my purse, I unlocked the car, threw the other stuff into the back seat and was about to plop myself in and drive away.

The Asian clerk wandered out to see what was happening. Idiot George had followed me instead of going to his early model Prius. “Colleen, speak to me!”

“Get in your car, George!” I yelled at him, ducked into mine, and started the engine. We wrestled with the door until he relented and let me close it. I drove away, eyes on the rear view mirror. He stood confused, looking helpless. The Asian man walked up to him. I wanted never to see that place again.