The Night She Met Tyrell

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The Night She Met Tyrell Page 1

by Daniella Donati




  Fifty Shades of Black - Part One: The Night She Met Tyrell... by Daniella Donati

  The first part in the erotic short-story series Fifty Shades of Black about interracial desire and sexual domination.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to other works of fiction, is purely coincidental. All sexual acts depicted are between consenting adults aged eighteen and over.

  The author specifically disclaims any responsibility for any liability, loss or risk, which is incurred as a consequence, directly or indirectly, of the use and application of any of the contents of this book. The author promotes sexual fantasy and self-pleasure as a healthy, harmless pursuit and does not condone or encourage promiscuity or debauchery in any form.

  Copyright@2013 Daniella Donati at Smashwords.

  All Rights Reserved

  Fifty Shades of Black - Part One: The Night She Met Tyrell...

  In the middle class town of Richdale, things appeared to be very much the cliché of American life, lots of similar looking houses in neat rows with white picket fences, lots of prim housewives waving their husbands off to work and having their dinner on the table the minute they got home. But beneath the cotton-candy exterior there lay a clandestine underworld that went on strictly behind closed doors, reminiscent of the seedy secrets the detective discovers in the Lynch film Blue Velvet. Christine Palmer, one such prim housewife, with an outwardly idyllic life and marriage, was about to uncover this secret world, and it was about to change her life forever.

  It had all started the previous summer, the big blockbuster film had been a controversial one called Black Knight about a white housewife starting an affair with a black man, which soon develops into a highly sexual, submissive relationship. As the woman gradually submits to her lover, she becomes his 'shade' meaning his whore, his owned property. The film proved to be a huge hit due to the scandal and furore that greeted its release. Christine had seen it and enjoyed it herself, sneaking off to see it with her friends whilst her husband Edgar was out for the day playing golf, as he so often spent his weekends. The experience had excited her, given her a glimpse into a side of life she knew nothing about, and one she could even see the appeal of.

  But never for a second had she entertained thoughts of actually getting involved with a black man herself, she was married, after all. She certainly found black men physically attractive with a powerful, virile masculinity that white men seemed to lack, including her own husband, she had to admit. She'd kept these thoughts to herself till now, but one balmy summer day, Edgar out playing golf as usual, she'd invited round her best friend Darlene Simmons for a few fruit cocktails on the lawn, drinking in the afternoon about as daring as she got. After the usual exchanges of small town gossip and hearsay, the cocktails began to kick in and loosen their tongues a little. Darlene had been one of the friends Christine went to see Black Knight with, and the experience had opened her mind to a new way of thinking.

  Like Christine, Darlene was married to a successful businessman husband, but unlike Edgar, he spent large amounts of the year out of the country, and naturally Darlene grew bored and lonesome during these times. When she saw Black Knight, from then on the idea of taking a black lover seemed the most exciting thing in the world and it began to consume her daydreams and fantasies. She first imagined herself with the film's main character, then it spread to the few black men that she knew, who were more numerous in the less affluent areas of town, as racial equality had not yet been fully embraced by Richdale.

  As they reclined under the blazing summer sun, they sipped on their cocktails and the conversation slowly veered from inane to intimate as the alcohol loosened Darlene's lips. "Listen hun, this is strictly between us but...I'm gonna burst if I don't tell someone...and if I can't confide in my best friend...." she began, tantalizingly. Christine sat up in her deck chair and straightened her sunglasses, thinking this sounded interesting.

  Darlene drew a deep breath and began "Ok...so you know Robert is like hardly ever here anymore...well, over time I've become lonely and more than a little frustrated....and when we saw Black Knight, it was like a flip switched inside me...I wanted to experience the excitement that the woman did in that movie....I heard about this bar downtown...where there are a lot of black guys...I went along one night, all dolled up...".

  "Oh Darl....you are crazy! Carry on...." said Christine, her heart suddenly pounding with excitement. "Ok...so I walked in to Macy's and a few black guys were looking at me as I went in...I ordered myself a drink and this one guy came over and offered to pay for it...I let him...his name was Thomas..he was gorgeous...about 6ft 2...handsome, sexy deep voice....muscular...as hot as the guy in Black Knight, I couldn't believe it....I even told him he looked like that character and how much I loved that film...he said it was how he started dating white women...and it went from there...". Christine leant forward in her armchair, a little shocked. "Oh my god Darl, you went home with this guy? He could have been a psycho...you went back to his place?" she exclaimed.

  "I know....it was crazy of me....he was with a group of friends though...they were hot too! Anyway, we went back to his...he was so good, really gentle at first....then as we got into it...wow...he really knew how to dominate me...I was being thrown about like a rag doll by the end....such good sex, I can't even explain it...I'm meeting him again at Macy's next week...I think he wants to make me his 'shade'..." continued Darlene, followed by a silence. Christine was dumbfounded by her friend's risky behaviour, but found herself intrigued and fascinated also.

  "Amazing sex, huh? Well...I admit I've kind of forgotten what that is...Edgar is more interested in his golf swing than his pelvic thrust these days...." she said eventually, with a sigh. After another silence, Darlene piped up with "You could always come with me to Macy's...like I said, he has some gorgeous friends...you could take your pick Christine, you're hotter than me...".

  Christine blushed a little at this, feeling flattered, and though she' d never cheated on her husband in her life, she was seriously tempted to take Darlene up on her offer. "Oh gee Darl...I'm 42 now....married 21 years....never been unfaithful...but I admit seeing that film excited the hell out of me...if it's as good as it seems...then I think I should go....". Darlene turned to her friend to see if she was for real and her serious expression told her she was. "You won't regret it, darling...." she said, and Christine felt a tingle of anticipation run up her spine.

  The next week seemed to fly by in a flurry of fantasies and erotic dreams, by agreeing to go with Darlene, she'd awakened something deep within her that had lain dormant for a long time. The night of visiting Macy's soon arrived and she spent the whole day pampering herself, a manicure and pedicure, then a massage and a visit to the hair salon.

  She dressed to kill, a slinky velvet dark purple dress that clung to her still enviable figure, black thigh-highs showing off her shapely legs, along with black stilettos to complete the vampish look. She kept her make-up tasteful so that she still looked a classy woman, and was just finishing up when Darlene honked her car horn outside her house. She walked downstairs, having told her husband that she was going out for the night and would crash at Darlene's, the perfect cover. She noticed how distant he was as she left with her brief explanation, and didn't feel the slightest bit bad at what she was doing.

  As they got near Macy's she felt butterflies in her stomach, it was starting to feel real now, not a fantasy anymore. She strode in with Darlene feeling sexy and appearing confident, even though she was nervous inside. She saw a group of well-attired, handsome black men, one walking over, which she guessed correctly as Darlene's guy. "Thomas...hi....I brought my friend along this time, this is Christin
e..." said Darlene, and Thomas reached out his hand with a broad, friendly smile.

  Christine shook it, her soft fingers feeling crushed by his strong, large hand, and she was struck by his aura of effortless control and confidence. Suddenly, one of the group strolled over and introduced himself to Christine, with a handshake just as knee-weakening, and as she looked up at him, clearly a foot taller than her, she was mesmerized by his brown eyes and strong jawline. Thomas interjected "Christine...this is my good friend Tyrell..." and Christine felt herself blushing, overwhelmed by the situation. Tyrell smiled and said "Very nice to meet you Christine, what would you like to drink?".

  Christine thought she was going to faint when she heard his silky smooth voice, so deep and rich. By the gold medallion round his neck and the numerous rings on his fingers, she could tell he wasn't from the poorer side of town, he appeared well off, maybe even downright rich. His expectant gaze brought her out of her thoughts and she finally replied "Oh...well, as I'm trying new things tonight...why don't you surprise me?". She couldn't believe how flirty she was being, but Tyrell responded with a cool wink and "One surprise coming right up....". He turned away from her and quickly caught the barman's attention.

  As he ordered for them both, Darlene sidled over to her crimson-faced friend and asked "So what do you think? Drop-dead gorgeous or what? He's not from round here, I met him last time...he's here on business...so if he asks you back...it will be to the Regazza Hotel...$1000 a night there...seriously rich! And I think he likes you hun...".

  With that, she stepped away back to her lover Thomas and Tyrell strolled back holding an exotic looking drink. "Wow..what is this?" said Christine, as she took it in her hand. Tyrell replied smoothly "A cocktail...banana colada...try it, your mouth will love you forever...". He smiled and she took a sip, then licked her lips. "Darn...that tastes good!" she exclaimed, and it did, a rainbow of flavours hitting her taste buds. She drank some more, his eyes baring into her, and somehow drinking a cocktail suddenly felt like the most sensual thing she could experience at that moment.

  The wild flavour felt like the drink was some initiation ritual, an initiation into a new world of sensual indulgence and exploration. Now that she knew that he was staying at a hotel, she decided that if he asked her to spend the night with him, she would go. Besides, she felt innately comfortable if somewhat overwhelmed by his presence.

  He seemed to ooze effortless confidence and control, she just knew that he was one of these men who breeze through life, and she wondered how many women like her he had seduced...hundreds maybe. But she didn't care, she felt excited for the first time in years, and if all he wanted was one night of lusty fucking, she decided it was time that she had a taste of real pleasure, and not just an exotic cocktail...it was time for an exotic cock....

  They chatted away happily for a while, Christine feeling more relaxed as the drink went through her, Tyrell explaining his highly successful jewellery business, casting a spell over her with his nonchalant charm, a sense of ease that she'd never seen in a white man, they all seemed so uptight by comparison, especially her husband. Tyrell excited her in just the same way she'd felt when she'd seen Black Knight, the thrill of an unknown world opening up before her.

  A few drinks later and she felt like putty in his hands. When he finally suggested that she spend the night at his hotel, she made the obligatory excuse that she was a married woman, but he sensed the weak tone in her voice and replied "Christine, I don't care about that....I want to spend the night with you" in his rich, velvet baritone voice and Christine was melting....

  With just a quick nod she let him know she wanted it too and she walked over to Darlene to let her know she was leaving. For Tyrell, Christine was what he'd been looking for since he'd arrived in Richdale on business. He was a man of refined tastes and used to getting what he wanted, and his pleasure was in seducing attractive and sophisticated married white women, women who would have once looked down upon him when he didn't have a penny. He loved the idea that he was taking a white men's wife and showing her superior sex, superior masculinity.

  Darlene was beaming as Christine told her she was spending the night with Tyrell , and he ushered her out of Macy's with a strong arm round her waist, leading her to his Bentley convertible. She gasped as she saw it, the ultimate classic car, and shivered as he opened the passenger door for her. This was a taste of the high life that she'd always craved, that her husband could never quite afford, despite his allusions of grandeur.

  As they drove to the Ramazza hotel, Tyrell wearing brown leather driving gloves as he clutched the wheel, Christine's heart pounded in her chest, she knew she'd gone past the point of no return now, there was no turning back. The hotel looked impossibly huge, and as Tyrell booked in, Christine looked round the immaculately furnished reception area, red velvet carpets and perfect lighting. Her husband had never been able to indulge her sybaritic streak, her love of luxury, but to Tyrell, it was just an everyday occurrence.

  As they entered the elevator the sexual tension was tangible in the air, Christine's heart pounding so loudly in her chest that she thought it must be audible to Tyrell. She turned to look at him and he held her in his gaze as the elevator began rising, then Christine's mouth fell open as he placed a strong hand on her bottom and began to caress it slowly.

  Then he leaned into her and placed his large, nervous lips on her soft mouth, enveloping it and possessing it, thrusting in his thick tongue as his other hand moved to her breasts and began a gentle caress. Her nipples throbbed through her bra and were soon as hard as pellets, as she let him possess her with his exploring tongue, entirely at his surrender.

  After a formidably powerful, slow kiss, Tyrell placed both hands on Christine's flushed cheeks and with his mesmeric stare said "I want to make you my shade...." in an unnerving deep voice. Christine nodded and moaned "Anything...." and she meant it. Just as their passion was about to resume, it was briefly interrupted as the elevators doors opened having reached their floor.

  Christine looked down in shame as the refined-looking couple waiting to get in caught sight of her make-up smeared face, and Tyrell pushed past them, dragging Christine by the arm. As the elevator doors closed, Tyrell turned and winked at the wife of the couple, who looked at him with contempt but secretly envied what Christine was clearly about to experience.

  As soon as they were in the room Tyrell imposed himself onto Christine, his full strength in command of her, pushing her down on the end of her bed and without waiting for instruction, she began unzipping his fly, then unbuckling his belt, her hair now disheveled. She looked like a white trash whore and she knew it. She reached inside his open fly, pulled down his briefs slightly, reaching her hand in and grappling the thick pole. She pulled on it and out it sprung, the biggest and widest meat she'd ever seen, though admittedly had not much to compare it to. Her husband Edgar was five inches hard, that's when he could stay hard long enough, but Tyrell looked around nine and not even fully erect yet.

  It wasn't just the length but the girth that shocked her, her hand almost having to fully stretch to wrap round it as she brought it to her mouth. "Look at me as you lick it..." said Tyrell in a guttural voice that Christine found thrilling. She looked up at his imposing visage with doe eyes, circling the bulbous tip of his cock then licking off the shiny precum. She could tell from his expression that she was hitting the spot, so took a long, slow lick of his huge, pendulous ballsack, then all the way up his long shaft in one go, getting a nod of approval then doing it again several times. This wasn't oral sex, it was phallus worship, Tyrell was now like a god to her and she felt privileged to be pleasuring him.

  With her devoted tonguework, Tyrell was soon fully hard and Christine had to stretch her mouth wide to fully accommodate his girth as she began sucking him, then sinking her lips down his veiny shaft, taking as much as she could. "Ah yessss bitchhhhhh...." Tyrell sighed, and Christine's pussy tingled at being called 'bitch'. She was as modern and feminist as the next woman, but
when it came to sex, there was something so arousing about a man dominating her in this way, it brought out something primal inside her.

  Her pussy was aching and throbbing so badly that she had to slip her spare hand down under her dress and start to frig herself slowly as she used every ounce of technique she had pleasing Tyrell, her mouth now frothy and sticky with his precum, her face a smeared mess of make-up and lipstick. Tyrell was impressed with her cocksucking technique, he thought she'd be naive and need breaking in, but she was taking him deep like a pro, and he decided that this upmarket piece of ass might keep him happy for a while yet.

  Feeling suitably turned on, Tyrell decided it was time to turn up the heat. He ran his strong hand under Christine's dress and roamed her thighs with lascivious, exploring fingers. Her face contorted with pleasure as he got near her pussy, and the ache between her legs was almost unbearable. She started pulling off her dress and unclasped her bra. Tyrell tugged her panties down in one aggressive motion, which thrilled Christine. He then pushed her down onto the bed on her back and feverishly kissed her thighs with a ravenous mouth, Christine cupping his head instinctively, encouraging him towards her soaking wet snatch.

 

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