BLACK POWER (A BWWM COLLECTION)

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BLACK POWER (A BWWM COLLECTION) Page 3

by Dana Cruise


  His palm struck me strongly, sending shots of pain and pleasure throughout my body. I shunted forwards on his desk, my tits scraping against his writing surface, my pussy begging to be touched. His hand stayed on my ass to grab at my flesh, twisting handfuls of my moons, grabbing me, roughly handling me, claiming me.

  Again he removed his hand, sending it back to my ass with a giant SLAP. I jumped, moaning as he struck me, totally engorged in this experience, totally turned on. His fingers went quickly to my panties, his thick digits holding my soaked fabric aside to allow access to my pussy. His thumb prodded my entrance, rolling my clit - sending pleasure throughout my body. I groaned as he finger fucked me, panting, calling his name.

  “Oh god yes Mr. Thomas” I exclaimed. “Take me, I’m yours!”

  He moved his head closer to mine, leaning over my body, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back.

  “Call me Daddy” he ordered.

  I heard him unzipping himself as he lay on top of me, his hand going back and forth between fucking my poor, defenseless pussy and releasing his thick beast. I felt his cock slap my ass as it swung free from its captivity, his hand still holding my head back, pulling my hair.

  “Oh god Daddy” I said, quickly slipping into the role created for me. “Please Daddy, I’ve been such a bad girl, please fuck me!”

  He used his legs to part mine further, pressing his pelvis on my back as he readied his cock for my pussy. I felt him place his meat at the entrance to my cunt, positioning himself before putting both of his hands on my shoulders. He held himself in this pose for far too long - seconds! - before finally slamming his thickness into me.

  I gasped as he entered, unable to comprehend the thickness of his majesty. His cock stretched me, filled me completely as he fucked me, his dick ramming into me with such force that I thought he was going to tear me apart. Waves of pleasure sped throughout every fiber of my being - my pussy filled with the wondrous cock of my neighbor.

  “Oh fuck Daddy!” I called to him. “Oh god I’m going to cum!”

  He increased his tempo, reaching forwards to grunt into my ear as he fucked me, slamming his thickness deep inside my pussy, reaching spots that I had no idea existed. I shook as he plundered into me, I gasped as he withdrew and moaned as he entered - his cock sending me to, and through the walls of orgasm. I shook as I came, my pussy grabbing onto his mighty weapon as my flushed flesh carried waves of orgasm to every sinew. As I came I screamed his name, his new name - for my man to hear.

  “DADDY!” I called, “Oh god! Oh god!”

  As soon as I had semi recovered from my pleasure, Mr. Thomas withdrew, standing over my back with his cock in his hand. Aware that this wouldn’t be a fitting end to this experience, I turned swiftly, found my knees on his floor with his dick in my mouth. I sucked on his helmet strongly, twisting his balls as I stroked his shaft. His cock tasted so good, his musk mixed with my nectar, my cum on him and his soon to be on me. As I felt him twitch in my mouth I pulled away, kissing the end of his dick and holding him above me, allowing his shots of hot cum to splatter my face, into my eyes and my hair.

  He gave me tissues to clean myself with, before mysteriously finding his wallet in his back pocket. He waved it, a cheeky smirk on his face.

  “I guess it was here all along” he said, sheepishly. He sat at his desk and beckoned me to walk towards him.

  “Funny, I was wondering about that” I said, a smile on my lips. “I thought I’d seen it in your back pocket when you’d left for the evening.”

  “Come” he said, waving at me. “Sit on my knee.”

  He patted his leg, reaching his arms out to me. I did as he said, sitting on his knee as he wrapped his arm around my back.

  “There” he said, holding out a fistful of 20’s. “Go shopping, my precious.”

  “Thanks Daddy” I said, leaning towards him to plant a kiss on his cheek. “You’re the best dad ever.”

  3

  Maid To Serve

  MAID TO SERVE

  By Dana Cruise

  I watched as he unbuttoned her shirt, holding her close to him. He grazed at her flesh, licking and biting her stomach. Taking off her bra she pushed him into her breasts, his tongue flicking at her nipples, taking one fully into his mouth. Throwing her head back she clutched him closer to him, running her fingernails through his hair.

  While he stood, he held the back of her head as she unbuttoned his pants. Taking out his cock she fed it into her willing mouth. While he held onto her, pushing her face into his groin she teased at his balls, and ran her hand over his stomach, digging her deep red fingernails into his skin. His cock was huge, a thick proud specimen that she fought with, allowing it to sway between hurried sucks. Wildly it swung, hitting the side of her cheeks.

  Standing her up he led her over to the bed where he bent her over. Now looking directly at me she waiting for him to enter, her ass high in the air. Standing behind her he held his dick in one hand while parting her lips with the other, before pushing his cock deep into her. Despite the thick glass that separated us I could hear her moans and she writhed on the bed, bucking as he roughly fucked her.

  Alone in the garden my fingers were now furiously rubbing my clit, my other hand still wrapped around the dog’s lead. While sure that I could not be seen I was both terrified of being caught, and engrossed in the show. Hiding in the orchard I was probably 50 feet from the house, 100 feet from the road. Thankful that at least my dark skin tones might ensure that I wouldn't be seen in the light of the mood, I stood in awe, watching them. Leaning against a tree, holding onto a dog, watching my new employers as they fucked. My hand switching from my bosom to my pussy, I gripped the trunk behind me as I watched and fingered myself, seeing that he was now holding her hair, slapping her ass, and pushing himself into her. As I felt myself reaching orgasm he pulled out, turning her around to face his cock. Her mouth wide open he shot his cum over her pale face and her tits, shuddering as he released his massive load.

  I pulled my hand out from my dress and hurried to the side of the house, aware that they may want a late night snack before bed. Sex has a way of increasing appetite, those burned calories need to be replaced. Putting the dog in her crate for the night I washed my hands in the kitchen sink, sitting down at the table to await any instructions. When I heard footsteps descending the stairs I grabbed a magazine - hoping to look occupied, as though I’d been here the whole time. Not standing outside in the garden like a teenage boy, peeking in through the windows, watching a young married couple fuck. When Mr. Pearl walked in, dressed in a white t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, he seemed surprised to see me.

  “Jessica!” he said in surprise. “You’re still up? I thought you’d gone to bed ages ago!”

  “I wanted to make sure that you had everything you needed” I said meekly; acutely aware that by now, he probably had. “Plus the dog was whining to be let out. Would you like me to make you any food?”

  “No no!” he said. “You go on to bed. We’ll talk in the morning about when your hours should be. There’s no need for you to be waiting on us at this hour”

  We were still learning the ropes. This was the first time I’d been employed as a maid, and the first time that Mr. and Mrs. Pearl had taken one.

  I sometimes felt that he was a little uncomfortable with their wealth. Mr. Pearl had been born into a wealthy family, but most of the money that he now had was held in trust until he was 30. He had joined the family business - an investment firm - when out of college, and had spent the following 8 years working in all departments to get an understanding of exactly how the company was run. He had been paid a decent salary, enough to buy a house and car, and had learned how to manage his employees. Now 34 he and his new wife had bought a sprawling mansion in the town that I had grown up in, and had decided to employ a maid to help them around the house.

  20 years old, I had wanted to leave the family home but had nowhere to go. Answering an ad online for a live in helper, I had jumped on
the chance to both work and leave home. My parents had both been so against the idea, my mother telling me that a rich white couple would never employ a black girl – that it just wasn't the done thing. That they would hire a pretty blonde white girl – someone more like them. My dad had a different opinion – comparing being a maid to the return of slavery – telling me that I would resent them – growing to hate these rich white folks.

  Both of them were – in the end – wrong. The Pearls were more than happy to employ me, and I was more than happy to move in with them. Sure, they were my bosses, but by and large they initially had treated me with respect. In turn I liked them too.

  Sometimes a little too much. I had never even been attracted to a white guy before but there was just something about Mr. Pearl that made me crave him. He was smart, confident – and so, so sexy. I would have done anything that he asked of me. Pretty soon, that was exactly what I would do.

  I had moved in a month ago. Taking a room in the rafters of the house I had a twin bed, a dressing table, a wardrobe and a small chest of drawers. A small bathroom was attached to my room, with a clawfoot tub and tiny medicine cabinet. I didn’t care what the place looked like, that the wallpaper was peeling in the corners of the room, or that there was no television or radio, this was my little corner, a place to call home.

  The next morning typified the different relationships that I had with Mr. and Mrs. Pearl. Mr. Pearl left for work early, usually out of the door at 6am. He departed before I woke and he has told me that he doesn’t want me to do anything for him before he leaves. He makes his own coffee, he feeds and takes the dog out, and tries to be as quiet as possible so as to not disturb anyone else.

  Mrs. Pearl, on the other hand, treated me quite differently. After her initial politeness towards me, she had begun to treat me a little more like a housekeeper – someone under her employ. Perhaps she was jealous – she mentioned once that she wished she had dark skin like mine – then she wouldn't have to go tanning as much as she did.

  She rose at 10am, summoning me by ringing a bell that she kept hidden from her husband in her bedside cabinet. When I reached her room she lay in bed and directed me to fetch her clothing from her closet in her dressing room, or ‘boudoir’ as she called it. When I had fetched her outfit she required me to help her dress, taking care to cover her breasts from my sight. Not that it mattered, of course. I had seen her fully naked the night before, I’d seen her sliding the cock of her husband in between her cleavage. She could play the part of demure lady all that she wanted, I’d seen her at her dirtiest.

  That night, after I had served dinner I stood alone, washing the dishes in the kitchen. Listening to some light music I stood for a while, staring out of the window. I didn’t even hear footsteps or the door opening. Turning around with a dinner plate in my hand I jumped when I saw Mr. Pearl, standing just a couple of feet away from me. The plate slipped out of my hand, smashing into a hundred pieces.

  “Oh no!” I screamed. “I am so sorry!”

  “Please!” he said, bending to pick up the shards. “It was my fault. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

  I couldn’t bear to think what Mrs. Pearl’s reaction would have been, if she had been here.

  After Mr. Pearl picked up the larger pieces of the place I vacuumed the floor. Making sure that all of the fragments were cleaned, we sat at the small table and shared a pot of french press coffee.

  “I’d like to thank you” he said. Dreaded words. I’d heard them only once before, immediately before being fired. “I sometimes don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Oh, it’s really nothing” I said blushing slightly. Ever since I’d met Mr. Pearl I’d had a little bit of a crush on him, even before seeing him naked. He wasn’t the tallest man but he was well built and carried himself confidently. He always dressed impeccably, wearing closely tailored suits to work and designer jeans with t-shirts around the house. He had a weight room in the basement, part of his ‘man cave’, and would frequently come upstairs with his shirt off, his smooth chest glistening with sweat.

  He leaned in towards me, keeping his voice low so that his wife wouldn’t hear us from the next room.

  “Between you and me” he said in a hushed tone. “I sometimes think that you’re the only sane person in this house.”

  I sometimes thought he was right. Mrs. Pearl seemed to be more in love with her husbands money than she was with the person. I had no doubt that she wouldn’t be with him if he wasn’t in a house like this, or if she didn’t have access to the credit limits on their shared credit cards. Whenever he walked shirtless through the house on his way to the shower it was only me who looked up at him. While I had witnessed their lovemaking the night before I wondered if she only opened her legs to keep his wallet open too.

  Going upstairs to bed after walking the dog I took a bath in the clawfoot tub. Allowing my hands to wander I thought back to my moment with Mr. Pearl, when he had leaned in close to me to whisper his thoughts in my ear. Leaning my head back I ran my sot velvety fingers across the outline of my breasts, imagining Mr. Pearl's lips upon them. I turned my head to one side to bear my neck, almost feeling his tongue caressing me, nibbling at my earlobe, running his fingers through my hair.

  Naked and wet I jumped from the bath and into my room. Lying on the bed I reached over to my nightstand, opening its drawer I located my trusted vibrator. Slender and smooth it was nowhere near the size of the cock that I had seen the night before, but it was all that I had and it would have to do. Engaging it I first put it into my mouth, allowing the buzzing to tickle my tongue, fantasizing that it was Mr. Pearl’s dick that I was tasting. Rolling my nipples with my free hand I felt my pussy yearning to be touched, aching for something to be inside. First warming up my clit with my hand I rubbed myself vigorously, my eyes closed as I moaned softly. My nipples tender, every tough brought me closer to orgasm.

  Hurriedly I could take no more. I brought the vibrator down to my pussy, massaging my clit with the purring toy until my folds beckoned me to enter. Sliding my plaything deep inside I pictured Mr. Pearl standing over me, thrusting his dick inside, sending me to the brink of my pleasure.

  Fucking myself strongly, my eyes still closed and with my right hand grasping at my tits I rode myself, rocking against my toy. Holding it inside my pussy and against my clit I buckled under the strain, sending myself to a strong orgasm.

  Lying on my bed, still with my eyes closed, I heard a quiet footstep. Sitting up quickly I looked towards my door, to see it closing. Someone had been watching me. The watcher had become the watched!

  The next morning I watched from my window as Mr. Pearl went to his car. I wasn’t positive who was watching me finger myself the night before, but it had to be one of he or his wife. I really hoped it had been him, my hands against the window almost called for him to look up and wave at me. Turning before he got to his car he seemed to look up in my direction, before turning back to head off to work.

  Mrs. Pearl gave no clues. She was her usual belligerent self and made me fetch three different outfits to wear, before jumping into her convertible and heading to the mall. She worked so hard there, spending almost a full day spending the money that her husband had made. Such a hard life when you’re the wife of a billionaire.

  When I served dinner I retired to the kitchen to eat the food that I had prepared for myself. Mr. Pearl had initially said when I was hired that I should dine with them, but Mrs. Pearl had apparently thought that to be unworkable. ‘What if someone comes over’, she had said. ‘We need to keep up appearances’.

  When the happy couple had completed their meals I collected their plates, and took them into the kitchen. Positioned at the sink I heard a cough, Mr. Pearl standing in the doorway.

  “I thought it might be wise to announce my arrival” he said with a smile. “That china isn’t cheap.”

  Ah yes, I thought to myself. I have a habit of being surprised.

  “That’s probably a good idea”
I said with a smile. “Coffee?”

  Together we sat again at the table, chatting about absolutely nothing of importance. World news. My family. His car. I hung onto his every word and hoped that he wouldn’t notice my reddening chest.

  “I really like chatting with you” he said, as he took his coffee cup to the sink. “You get me.”

  “Likewise” I said, standing to walk in his direction. In my mind I threw my cup to the floor, diving into his strong arms and allowed him to passionately kiss me. In actuality only the first part was true, as fumbling I dropped my mug. Mr. Pearl lunged forward, cat like reflexes and plucked it out of the air when it was merely an inch from impact. Standing, his face close to mine I could feel his breath on my cheek as he exhaled.

  Stuck in this moment for what felt like hours we looked into each others eyes. The tension in the room so thick it could be cut, wrapped and served for lunch I felt an irresistible urge to move in for the kill, to have the kiss that the occasion deserved. Just as we started to move towards each other, our eyes both closing, his wife’s voice called from the dining room.

  I figured that it was probably for the best. What if we had kissed? What if things had gone further? What if he had taken me on the kitchen table? He was hardly about to leave his attractive trophy wife for a young black maid.

  That night I bathed in silence and without deviating from the task. Cleanliness only. I considered my options and wondered if the store in town might be hiring. Perhaps it would be better to leave some space between myself and this couple.

  In the morning I again stood at the window and watched as Mr. Pearl walked to his car. Again I placed my palm to the glass, hoping against my better judgment that he might turn around. I knew I couldn’t have him, I knew I shouldn’t have him; but that couldn’t ever stop me from wanting him.

  Mrs. Pearl clearly meant business today as well. She had already selected her outfit when I went to bring her tea and the mail. She was meeting with her irritating friends at the country club and playing golf, and would be absent for the day.

 

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