by K. Valentine
Javier smiled at her and turned to go outside.
“Javier?” she called. Javier turned around; his smile still across his face.
“What’s up?” he asked. Vivian knew what she wanted to tell him. This was her moment to finally be something that made her happy.
“Never mind,” she said. “Just that…I appreciate your apology.” Javier nodded and walked out the door, as Vivian’s pussy juices slid down her leg.
CHAPTER 6
Finally, after what felt like ages, the gala had finally arrived. When her family told her to marry the right type of man, Alex fulfilled all of their expectations. The two were picked up promptly by a black limousine and were making their way to the biggest fundraising event of Alex’s campaign. If tonight was a success, the governorship was his.
While Alex wore a tuxedo for the event, Vivian wore a strapless dress the hugged every last delicious curve and showed off her nice big breasts. While Alex paid her the compliment of how sexy her dress looked on her, she knew that it was not the dress that he loved, but what it would do to potential donors.
The thought made her angry, but she reminded herself that this was her duty. When they arrived at the event, Vivian could already feel herself bored to tears. After a few fundraisers, you got to see a few familiar faces. Those captains of industries who made the world run and at their side were their own trophy wives who had no mind or identity of their own.
Normally, she would turn her brain off and go on autopilot as she ate the small unfulfilling finger foods and answered questions about how great her husband was. Tonight, however, was different. She watched the faces of each wife and realized that they were probably nothing more than dead inside just like her.
Slaves to their husbands and their needs.
Alex grabbed Vivian’s arm which made her jump in fright. She had completely zoned out and was not even aware of her surroundings.
“Are you ok, sweetheart?” he asked. Vivian looked around. Apparently, Alex was busy setting her up to talk to an investor while she day dreamed.
“I…uhm…” but she did not know what to say. The investor looked at her with concern in his eyes.
“Oh dear,” he said. “I believe she’s turning green. You didn’t happen to eat those stuffed mushrooms did you?” She had not. In fact, Vivian had not eaten anything per Alex’s instructions.
“Yes,” she lied. “That must have been it.” A flash anger went across Alex’s face. She could hear him screaming how stupid she was in his brain. But his anger was completely masked by concern.
“Perhaps you just need some fresh air,” he said. “And you can come back in a little bit.” Vivian nodded and quickly scurried out of the ballroom. She was relieved to be out of there that going back in was the last thing on her mind!
Vivian quickly took out her phone and dialed the only person she knew who would not question why she was leaving.
Charlotte’s home phone seemed to ring forever until the familiar voice of
Javier picked up.
“Hola, como estas?” he asked. Vivian was stunned. She had believed that Charlotte had given her a cell phone number, but it appeared that this was her home phone.
“Hola?” he asked again. Vivian shook her head of the cobwebs.
“Javier?” she asked. “It’s…Vivian.” There was a pause on the phone.
“Vivian?” he asked. “Hey…what’s up?” Her mind was telling her to just hang up and say that she dialed the wrong number.
“I was… I was wondering if you could…pick me up?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said, after a brief moment past. “Uhm…where are you?”
Vivian promptly gave him the address. Javier was not her first choice to get home, but she would do whatever she needed to do in order to leave. She looked back at the door leading into the museum and back to the party. Alex would never accept her simply saying that she wanted to leave. She knew he would be mad, but she took out her cell phone and sent a simple text message to Alex:
Got sick on my dress. Getting a cab back home. Sorry.
She wasn’t sure why she put sorry other than to make him feel better. Whether Alex believed her text or not, it wouldn’t matter. There was no way he was going to leave his adoring public and all that money.
Within minutes, Vivian was being picked up in Javier’s pick-up truck. When he pulled up, she was grateful that he could read the signs to not pick her up in the front. Vivian pretended to not notice the truck as he slowly passed by and drove down a side street. Vivian waited a minute or two before leaving her spot to follow him. She opened the door to see Javier in some simple street clothes. The truck was a mess, but he was quickly moving trash into the back as much as possible. She was a little embarrassed to be riding in the dirty used vehicle, but if she wanted to leave, this was her only exit. Vivian got in the car as quickly as possible so no one would see her. When she closed the door, Javier put the car in drive and began the journey back to her home.
“Thank you,” she said. Javier nodded.
“It’s no problem,” he said.
After that, they sat in awkward silence as Javier drove. He did not bother asking her what happened, but remained silent as the street lights left a soft glow on both of their faces.
Vivian’s sense felt like they were going into overdrive. The entire vehicle smelled like Javier and being so close to him only made her long to touch his skin.
Suddenly, and without any hint consciousness, Vivian felt her hand trail over to Javier’s hand. He did not pull his hand away, but stayed perfectly still for her. When Javier didn’t pull away, she reached over and placed her hand on top of his.
Javier moved his hand off the gear shift and took her hand. Electricity flowed through her body as she finally held his hand. Javier looked at Vivian who looked at him back. The young Latino’s eyes were filled with power.
He had finally caught her.
Not saying a word, Javier pulled over into a closed gas station. Moving the truck toward the back, he quickly turned the car off and pulled Vivian in for a rough kiss. Vivian allowed him to be rough with her. She wanted it. To have some sort of feeling of attraction, want and power. She moaned into his mouth as she undid her seat belt.
His hands raised to her swollen breasts and began to pull one of out of her dress. She grabbed his hand and squeezed her breast with his.
“Take me…” was all she whispered to him. Javier stepped out of the truck and quickly walked to the other side. Vivian opened her door and was pulled out as he turned around and bent her over into the truck. Her breasts pressed against the carpet of the truck as she heard Javier unzip his pants.
That’s when she felt his large throbbing member. Though she had dreamed of it, nothing could have compared her for the size of his large cock. Vivian looked over her shoulder at him. Pleading with her eyes for him to take his prize.
Her dress hiked up over hips, Javier pulled her thong panties aside and shoved his cock into her dripping wet pussy. Vivian cried in pleasure as Javier’s hips thrust into her. Her whole body shook from the sheer ferocity of his pounding. She felt her big ass begin to jiggle with each thrust.
His nails dug into her flesh and she relished in the pain and pleasure of it. Alex never took her so roughly. Javier made her feel like a woman. The type of woman to set a man’s blood on fire.
She made her pussy lips squeeze down on his cock, making him moan and dig his nails deeper into her flesh. The sounds of cars passing by only added to the excitement. Someone could easily stop by and see them. All of the tabloids, people would see a pixelated image of her moaning like a whore while some strange Latino man fucked the shit out of her.
And she loved it. She was sick of her old boring vanilla life. She had been denied a life of her own for so long that she was now finally getting what she wanted.
“Cum…” she whispered. “Cum for me!” Javier spanked her ass hard making Vivian cry out and arch her back.
“FUCKING CUM
FOR ME!” she screamed. Javier spanked her ass again, making it jiggle even more. His nails dug into his hips as Javier went faster and faster. Vivian closed her eyes and clenched her teeth as her own orgasm wracked her body. Vivian thought she would have fainted right then and there if she wasn’t bent over into the truck. Her knees buckled as she lowered her ass. Javier pulled his cock out of her gaping pussy and stroked his cock. She laid there waiting to be claimed and marked like an alpha marks his property…his bitch.
Without warning, she felt the warm sticky fluid land on her ass cheeks. She closed her eyes as the warmness put her at ease. This was the type of life she longed for and she was finally getting.
Javier looked down at his handiwork. Her ass was covered in his cum. Vivian reached back and began to rub the cum into her skin, breathing shallowly as she did. When she felt dry enough, she brought her dress back down and returned to the car with Javier. They looked at each other; smiling. She could tell that this was something he had been wanting for a very long time.
As they came in to kiss each other, they were interrupted by a bright white light that shone from behind them. Vivian turned in horror and felt her stomach drop as the flashing lights of a cop car slowly approached the truck….
THE END
BONUS CONTENT
CHAPTER ONE
It’s 4AM! Although she hasn’t ever needed to hit the snooze button before, Sophie finds herself having hit it three times this morning before she pulled herself out of bed. Having arrived in the states a few days ago, she isn’t jetlagged, but the time difference between London and America is enough to make her feel a little unsettled.
Sophie, a 20 year old, redheaded British exchange student, with the palest green eyes and the palest white skin, is up now, and after pulling her tights over her long legs, and then over her firm backside she smiles, looking at her reflection in the mirror. The perfection of her derriere catches her by surprise as usual, and after she admires the svelteness of her body perhaps a moment too long, she knows that she must leave.
Pulling a sweater over herself, covering her almost too perfect breasts, she heads out of her MIT apartment, her home for this year. She is one of three exchange students, and one of the perks of being a senior exchange student is that, if they were available, you could get a private apartment on campus. Sophie got the last one.
She exits her apartment building and gets her bearings. After checking and rechecking her online map, she figures out where the track field is, and makes her way there in a light trot. She has only been here two days so it is completely understandable that she doesn’t yet know where everything is. About 10 minutes later she is under the bleachers, having taken an unexpected shortcut not on the map.
But at least she is here, and she can do her standard-clear-your-head morning run, last done five days ago when she was still in London, and very necessary today, with it being her first full day of lectures.
Massachusetts wasn’t her first choice, but MIT offered a great renewable energy program that she wanted to be a part of, for a year at least. And since it had always been her dream to study in the US, when the MIT opportunity presented itself, Sophie grabbed it with both hands. She was an obvious choice for the program too, her intellect surpassed only by her incredible good looks.
Sophie didn’t look like a nerd though, by any standards. She looked more like the centerfold from one of those taboo magazines that most men wouldn’t admit to having under their beds. The good thing about her though is that she really didn’t seem to know it. Or if she did, it really wasn’t her calling card in any of her social interactions. She was very attractive, no doubt. But she never forced her attractiveness down your throat the way you would expect someone with such striking beauty to do.
Humility as well as a certain regal air, without being pretentious, add to the attraction of Sophie. And needless to say, many a male student, and some females, noticed her at orientation, and they must have already made several mental notes to make a move. She knew why she was here though, and it certainly wasn’t to get involved in any sort of relationship that would last only a year and then be done when she had to go back to England. Such complications didn’t appeal in any way to the savvy 20 year old.
She stretched on the bleachers for about ten minutes, looking around her at the vast emptiness of the track. There was one solitary form on the far end, and if Sophie timed it right, she would be able to say good morning to him on her second lap. She was just a nice girl and made a point of making everybody feel more than a little special. She really didn’t care whether you were a janitor or a lunch lady, grounds maintenance worker or a plumber. Her philosophy was simple: everyone was somebody to somebody!
As she approached the man in the grey coveralls, his figure illuminated by the bright floodlights that still lit the track, she noticed that he was very tall. He was almost too tall, and she was suddenly nervous about greeting him and taking his attention away from sweeping the track, something she would later look back on, and it still not make sense. He seemed out of place.
"Why would a statuesque man like him be sweeping a track?
When she gets close to him though he looks up suddenly and she doesn’t know what to do. Should she greet him and just keep on running, or should she stop and strike up a real conversation. Both of these would be easy for her to do, but she cannot really read his face so she isn’t sure which scenario would make him uncomfortable. She knew from her school back in London that maintenance staff tended to keep to themselves, and they only spoke to students when said student had locked themselves out of their dorm and needed help.
“Good morning,” the dark waterfall of a man says suddenly and Sophie stops dead in her tracks.
“Good morning to you sir,” she says, not really breathless because she hasn’t even started to work up a sweat.
“Sir? You are definitely not from around these parts Miss…” he says, looking away. Sophie thinks that she might have embarrassed him by calling him sir, but he was obviously older than her so this seemed more than a little appropriate, regardless of his vocation.
“London, England,” she says, walking up to him now just because she is really curious as to just how tall he really is.
“Kingston, Jamaica,” he says, reaching out a hand to her as she suddenly places the accent. She and a couple of girlfriends had gone to Jamaica last summer, a girls retreat, and the one thing she walked away from that trip with was how thick and heavy the Jamaican accent was. It was instantly recognizable, whether you were in Kingston, London, or Cambridge Massachusetts.
“I’m Sophie,” she says, smiling as her tiny hand is enveloped in his gigantic one.
“Jamal,” comes the response, his voice deep and rounded, like a river of melted dark chocolate. Actually, Sophie thought as he shook her hand gently, he looked like a towering dark chocolate river, smooth skin and a perfectly matte complexion. She needed to get back to her run, and shake her head of the thoughts that creeped into her head suddenly and without invitation. She could have no such thoughts, not of Jamal, or of anybody. She was just here for a year, and the last thing she needed was the complexity of a one-night-stand, especially since she was still a virgin…
Jamal watched her as she disappeared around the track. He couldn’t take his eyes off her ass, thinking that it was just too perfect to belong to a white girl. Another place, another time, he thought, he might have stood a chance with the almost-too-sexy Sophie. Perhaps if they had met on the island and he was 20 years younger! He returns to his sweeping, and tries to shake the thoughts he knows he should not be having about her. When he doesn’t succeed he disappears into the storeroom near the track before she comes around again, parading her perfection in front of him almost as though she were daring him to reach out and touch it.
For the next couple of days they see each other every day, at 4AM, exchanging lingering looks that both hopes the other doesn’t notice. Jamal knows what his attraction to Sophie is, even though she is s
till unsure about her own. A week later Sophie tries to find another place to run.
Accustomed to this new found anticipation of watching her run each morning, Jamal waits and extra 15 or 20 minutes each day, just to make sure she isn’t coming. Resisting each other is futile though. With the unabated intrigue of 'the idea' of one another, neither can imagine staying away from each other. At least, until the burning curiosity is satisfied one way or another. Try as they might, both of them are once again like moths to a flame, meeting on the track at 4AM again.
Neither can even explain to themselves what the visceral attraction is!
Pondering her growing obsession, Sophie thinks it's probably the fact that he is a nonthreatening man who seems to be interested in nothing but casual greetings and the occasional lingering glance, but Sophie knows that there is more to it. At least she hopes that there is, although she will not admit it to herself. She doesn’t even know why, because not only has she never slept with a black man, she in fact has not slept with any man before. You wouldn’t think it by looking at her though, but Sophie is a virgin.