Erotica: No Limits

by BREANNA BENSON

“Right. Thanks, anyways,” I said.

  As I left, another of the guys whistled. He was a little taller than the first guy, and built, but not as thickly. He looked more like a basketball player than the built guy did. He smiled, his teeth white. A couple of his teeth were also gold.

  “Hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go, sweetie,” he said, whistling again.

  The third black guy, who looked to be the oldest of the group (the edges of his beard were slightly greying, but he still looked pretty young and fit) punched the second in the shoulder, giving him a dirty look. Was it because I was white or because the other guy was a chauvinist?

  “Sorry about him, ma’am,” the muscular leader said. “Terrible manners.”

  “Thanks,” I said stiffly and left the store. It was time to get out of the ghetto.

  Chapter Two

  I walked for a while in the same direction, growing more and more restless the longer it didn’t look like I was coming to anything. Had she lied to me? Had she taken advantage of the poor little white girl? It was sure starting to look like it. I had to keep reminding myself that she said it was a “mile or so.” That could mean more than a mile. And a mile would feel like forever without a phone to keep track of the distance for me, or to distract me.

  It looked like the scenery around me was getting poorer and poorer. Shouldn’t it be getting better and better as I got closer to the business district? I didn’t know the answer. I would just have to keep marching onward and hoping that an answer to the unasked question would appear.

  Soon I realized I was being followed and the hairs on my arms stood on end as I got goosepimples. I was now totally not horny. This was scary, not sexy. I just wanted to get home and wrap myself in my blanket and sleep away the rest of the night. I had work in the morning and I wanted to see my girls.

  I looked behind me quickly. It was nobody I recognized. I thought at first that it was going to be the group of black guys from the convenience store, but there were only two guys following me. They were in dark clothes and sunglasses, the rings on their fingers flashing under the occasional streetlights we passed beneath.

  A thousand different plans raced through my head. Also: doubt. Were these guys really following me? Wasn’t it possible that they were just heading in the same direction I was? They could turn at any moment.

  Five more minutes (probably, time had lost all meaning) passed and the only thing that had happened was that they had gained a little distance on me. When I looked back, I only did so in the dark spaces between the streetlights. Should I run? I was wearing converses, I used them to run track in high school and college.

  I thought about the contents of my purse. I left my wallet at home (I never brought it to work, working in such a poor area had its risks, I’d had my purse stolen before.) There was nothing that wasn’t replaceable. Just a couple of make-up items, some coupons, and my Nintendo DS. The purse was a knock-off. My DS would be the saddest loss, but I had another back-up at home on the mobile gaming front.

  I made my choice immediately. In the next dark space, I flung my purse to the ground and took off into the first yard I came to, running quickly. I climbed the fence in front of me quickly and lithely. I was half-way across the dirt street between the houses when I heard my suspicions finally confirmed: someone was coming over the fence after me.

  My legs pumped harder and faster. I took the next fence even more quickly, landing in a painful way and crying out. I was fine and kept running, the adrenaline keeping the pain out of the front of my head. I rounded the house, someone crying out when I passed by their well-lit window. I went out the front gate and turned to the right, immediately running down and across the street. I could see traffic in the distance, but it was far. I needed to lose these guys first.

  I ran into the next open gate I could, sprinting around the house and coming into the back yard. Just a broken swing set and an old playhouse. I jumped into the playhouse, closing the child-sized door behind me. It was big enough I could almost stand in it. There was also a small back window I could no doubt wiggle through if someone through the door open. Those guys looked big, they wouldn’t be able to fit out the window.

  I stood there for a while, holding my breath. I finally started to think I was safe. And then the door flew open.

  First, I screamed. Then I jumped through the back window, painfully bashing my hip on the side and scraping myself. I struggled to my feet and ran towards the first gap in the fence that I saw. And then someone grabbed onto me, and I screamed and screamed.

  “Calm down, calm down!” said the voice. I recognized it. It was the guy from the convenience store. The deep-voiced bearded one. I turned and saw him, my eyes growing wide. He grinned.

  Chapter Three

  I screamed again, trying to get away.

  “Calm down,” he said, slapping me across the face.

  That did shut me up, mostly from the force of impact. I had a chance to recollect myself.

  “What are you going to do to me?” I asked, shaking.

  “Girl, we got your purse back for you!” the tallest guy said, holding my purse out to me.

  “Oh?” I asked, speaking slowly. I was confused, admittedly.

  “We weren’t following you,” the older guy said. “Just happened to be going the same way and saw the creeps who were following you come down from their porch and beeline right for you.”

  “Though I wished you’d walk my way a little more often,” the leader of the pack said, releasing me. I backed away from his considerable size. Now that I had calmed down a little bit I was able to take him in better, and the scent radiating from the sweat on his skin. I liked the smell of a man. My pussy was coming back to life.

  “Th-thanks,” I stuttered, blushing. He wasn’t my usual type, but there was something about him. Besides, I never turned down black cock. Maybe I could get his number?

  “How about you treat us to a little something to thank us?” the tall guy said.

  “What?” I asked, confused again. That sounded flirtatious.

  “You know what he means,” the older guy said, his eyes raking my body. “Normally I’d be against something like this… But you’re really quite the stunner.”

  “She a stunner, aiight,” the leader said, licking his lips. “Girl, you wouldn’t regret it with us.”

  My heart was throbbing in my chest. Fuck Will. I could add three more notches to my belt right here with a group of handsome black gangsters. And they had gotten my purse back for me.

  “What about the guys from before?”

  “We chased them off,” the leader said, walking forward, his eyes looking right down my shirt. I wasn’t even upset about it. This guy was a pig, but it just made me wet.

  “Where are we going to go?” I asked.

  “Right here,” he said. “No one lives here. How about it girl? Nobody’s gonna bother us.”

  I nodded slowly, unsure still, but that was all he needed. He pushed his mouth roughly to mine, his hand finding my tit and squeezing it, causing me to moan out in surprise. His other hand grabbed a handful of my ass.

  He broke away and turned to the others. “Come on, boys. These white bitches can’t get enough black cock. I told you. Get over here.”

  “I knew that, man,” the older guy said, moving forward. He pulled his shirt off and I realized he was even fitter than I realized.

  I looked at the tent at the front of each other their pants: they were all massive. I licked my lips, my knees weak. This was actually going to happen. I had to blog about this later.

  I fell to my knees when the leader pushed his hands gently on my shoulder. I would get grass stained on my jogging leggings, but that was okay. I could just wear them around the house for doing chores. He stripped his shirt off, his impressive body glistening. I ran my hands over his muscular stomach, not even realizing that his thumbs were already hooked into his shorts. He pushed them down quickly and his long, thick cock bounced out onto my cheek harder than ex
pected.

  It was massive. I took it into my mouth, the head barely fitting into the cavity of my mouth. It was that big. But he still took control when I started to pull off, and when I looked up at him he shook his head.

  “You’ll learn to take this black dick, girl. I ain’t a shrimpy cracker. Get ready to get used by real men.”

  “That’s right,” the tall guy said, pulling his own dick out. It was similarly sized, maybe a tiny bit thinner. Maybe not. As far as cocks went, they could have been brothers.

  I sucked greedily, eager to impress. His hand was on the back of my head, guiding me, teaching me to get his massive prick deeper and deeper into my throat. He was good at training a bitch, I’d give him that.

  The other two pulled my leggings, off and the leader pulled out of my mouth just long enough for him to tug my shirt off over my head. Then it was back to forcing his cock down my throat, my tongue dancing underneath his fat head. My goal was to get his eyes to roll up into the back of his head. That was my favorite part of oral.

  One of them began to eat noisily at my pussy and I resituated myself so I could sit on his face properly. Surprisingly it was the older guy who was eating away at my pussy, and he smiled up with me when I moaned loudly. His tongue felt like magic.

  There was finger prodding my ass—it felt lube. When it slid in easily, I moaned.

  “See, man? I told you, carrying a bottle of lube around is a necessity,” the tall one said, grinning. “You never know when you might have to use a chick’s ass. And they don’t get wet like a pussy does!”

  He worked my ass open. I was getting a service done to all three of my holes. It was incredible. Soon my asshole was loose enough that he could fit two fingers inside and he nodded. “You ready for some cock, bitch?” he asked.

  I nodded hungrily around the cock I was feeding on.

  The leader laughed, pulling out of my mouth. “Me first,” he said.

  He laid down on the ground and waved his cock as me lewdly. “Sit on his, girl. Sit right down on it and display your ass for my friend here to use.”

  “And you can give me some oral service for a change,” the older guy said, standing up.

  I slowly lowered myself on his massive tower of meat. It entered my pussy easily—after all, I had been getting eaten for a while. It took about two minutes for me to get it all the way inside. I was surprised I got it all in, I was just SO wet.

  I felt the taller guy at my ass and almost asked him to wait, but suddenly half of it was inside of me and the other half was following. I let out a cry that was stifled by the large cock of the older man. Suddenly, they weren’t playing with me. They were using me.

  My ass was getting pounded the hardest it ever had been. I wasn’t a fan of anal per se, but I had had it and enjoyed it. This was my best ass experience so far. He’d properly prepared me for the onslaught I was receiving.

  My pussy was absolutely full and I wondered if the two black studs could feel each other through the thin walls of my orifices.

  My throat was stretched to a maximum—the older guys cock was surprisingly the biggest of the group, and it was a struggle to get even half of it past my lips.

  They fucked me for a while, settling on this position to get the work done. And it did.

  The first to cum was the older guy, pumping my mouth full of his seed. The sight of me swallowing seed must have been too much for the leader, who cried out and grabbed my hips, grinding his cock inside of me painfully as he filled me with his batter.

  The deep, hard penetration soon had me squirting around him, and my spasming ass muscles much have gotten the tall one off, who also cried out as my muscles milked his fuck muscle.

  They all pulled out of me and got dressed in record time.

  “Thanks for the nice, “thank you!” the leader said, winking. “Just turn left out of the front gate and you’ll be at the business district in a block.”

  “Come back to the neighborhood if you ever need some good, black cock,” the older guy said, winking.

  And then they were gone. I just laid there in the grass, naked. Some seed had dribbled down my chin and neck. I didn’t care. I just knew that I wanted more.

  November 6:

  Charity Hollis, 19 years old, destitute. Life of a poor college student. Party of 1.

  So, dear diary. You are new. Supposedly marking a new chapter of my life but not really. I re-read a few paragraphs from the last diary that documented my last year of high school and the first couple months of university. Nothing changed.

  Actually. Something did change. The boy who I was supposed to lose my virginity to decided to break up with me at graduation. It makes sense in a way. He’s at school across the country. Only thing is we never had sex. Was he just that bad at planning that he didn’t realize that or was he just that repulsed by the idea of sex with me?

  I had saved up all my hormones for he who shall not be named only to get let down on what was supposed to be the start of a new life.

  What to do now? School work is pretty easy. It’s mostly a recap of what I did in my advanced classes at high school. No. I need a job.

  November 15:

  Got a new job. At a coffee shop. My co-workers are pretty nice. There’s this guy, Logan. Cute. Too cute. He flirts with every girl who passes through the coffee shop. Anyway. Money! Tips! Happy!

  November 16:

  Today was hellish. I worked 4 hours in my free period at the coffee shop then dashed off to classes. Could barely stay awake in the lecture and got called on – on purpose no doubt – by the lecturer. He asked for my thoughts on Historical Methodology… something, something. I had no idea what it was about and the lecturer knew I didn’t. Thankfully, I got notes from this guy, Roger. Also cute. Why are all these guys cute? And how do you talk to them? He who must not be named talked to me first. And… to be fair, so did Roger. But he just offered me notes and told me he could catch me up on what I missed sometime.

  November 17 – midnight:

  HOLY SHIT! Roger asked me out and I did not even realize! Damn it!

  November 19:

  So I saw Roger today in the faculty and told him I needed some help understanding what had been going on in the class. He said we could meet up this evening! Yay! College Charity is a woman who asks men out.

  So, I am back from the “date”. Although it really was a lot of talk about classes. He asked me a couple questions about myself but then… I would ask him about class stuff. I am not a woman. I am a bad student and a boring date. Only study buddies for me in the future. Roger saw a friend while we were studying – a beautiful, tall, busty Latina girl. She looked like a sexy, mature college student who knew how to flirt. I am still Charity Hollis. Eternal virgin and flirting novice. Sulky over-eating time.

  November 20:

  Chill Sunday until 4 o clock today! Logan called me up telling me it was his birthday and he had invited everyone from work but forgot to invite me. Told me which bar to go to. Will update.

  BACK! Oh my God! Wow. So I got to the party and was about to be carded when Logan came out and told the door man I was cool. He led me to his table and we got to talking. He told me he’s a musician. Said he was saving up for his second tour. SECOND tour! He’s already toured! He’s a legit musician! He showed me a link to his music and I saved it in my phone. Listening as we speak. He’s a LEGIT musician! Guitar solos and everything!

  I couldn’t help but feeling like he was into me the whole time we talked. He spent a good amount of time getting to know me. Then he went and spoke to the other people at the party. Then he asked me to dance!

  We danced pretty close. One thing I know I can do is dance. I danced my ass off. Sexy as you please. I would not let another sexy girl upstage me in front of a cute guy. Logan definitely liked it. He whispered as much in my ear. He told me I looked like a kitten but danced like a tigress.

  Then. EEK! He said, he wanted to get to know me better sometime.

  Perfect. Charity Hollis. Tigr
ess.

  November 21:

  Today at work Logan and I flirted like it was nobody’s business. He would wink at me or pinch my side when I passed him. He whispered: “Careful, hot stuff” when I nearly burned him with a latte. He smiled and said: “See you” when I left work.

  He’s into me.

  November 22:

  Correction. Apparently, Logan just likes girls. I thought I was something special but obviously not. He did all his little flirty stuff with the customers. I burned with jealousy seeing him today but then realized, I don’t own him. He’s his own man. And damn it. I’m my own woman. Why should I tie myself down to anyone?

  Yes. These are crazy ramblings. I have not known this guy for very long. But the way my stomach flutters when he looks at me and the way my body warms up when he pinches me… I’ve never felt that before. And now, the source of all those things decides he wants to go around flirting with other people, giving girls nicknames, complimenting their legs? Well… the legs thing was an old lady, probably in her 70s. But the nicknames and winking was with very young and pretty girls who seemed pretty accustomed to this treatment by Logan. They’d dither by the counter and pick up the CDs he’s put on display by the register – his music and some of his favourite influences – and they’d talk music and giggle and flip their hair. Ugh. So I’m supposed to compete with our entire clientele now? Well count me out.

  November 23:

  Roger and I had lunch together today. He invited me out to a party tonight. Looking forward to it. He who must not be named the second (Logan) can go flirt somewhere else.

  November 24:

  Alcohol is evil. Devil juice.

  Last night I think I made out with Roger. Like. A lot. Then I went and threw up and he walked me home. Now pounding headaches are my reality. Roger and I are having dinner at my place tonight.