Like a hungry animal, he pushed her legs apart effortlessly and lunged towards her bare, glistening pussy, taking a long, slow lick over her labia lips, savouring the salty taste. His tongue lapped at her sopping gash till she was gasping for breath, the intensity rising in the room, beads of perspiration on their skin. His tongue became relentless, prodding into her pussy, then flicking against her clit, now throbbing and poking out of its hood.Tyrell's face was now glistening with her pleasure and he stood up, having satiated his taste for cunthoney....
What happened next was a moment Christine would never forget. Tyrell, still fully dressed, his hard cock still poking out of his suit trousers, reached inside the large right pocket in his suit jacket and pulled out a white hockey mask then put it on. He immediately looked terrifying and menacing and Christine's initial reaction was to feel scared. But the sight of this tall, strong black man looking so demonic seemed to arouse a deep, primitive feeling in her and she knew this was going to be sex like nothing she'd known before.
Tyrell started pulling off his tie impatiently and stripped off, his buff, toned physique revealed for Christine who could only watch mesmerized. Soon he was wearing nothing but the hockey mask and she instinctively spread her legs wide, knowing the moment of entry had arrived. He lined up and leant down over her, then Christine held her breath as he guided in his now fully erect cock, the tip glistening with precum, the bulbous head pushing into her, then the rest sliding in gradually, Christine moaning as she released her breath.
She didn't know how much of him she could take, the girth alone was stretching her to the point of discomfort, and he only seemed halfway in but she felt so filled already. He eased into her inch by inch, and with seven inside her, started to pump in and out, made easy by the sheer wetness of her pussy walls.
As the sensuous pleasure made her relax, Tyrell grabbed her stocking-clad legs and thrust in his final inches, making her shriek, though the pain soon subsided back to pleasure. She couldn't take her eyes off the hockey mask as he fucked her with mounting intensity, the holes of the mask boring into her somehow, the image so powerful that she could only stare transfixed as his whole being overtook her.
He leant down over her further so that his face was brought to hers, the hockey mask only inches away from her now and she thought she might faint any second. Tyrell was now pounding into her so hard that she felt quite helpless underneath him, his huge hands roaming over her bare, swollen breasts, then, to Christine's horror, he slipped one round her throat and began to squeeze to the point Christine was struggling to breathe.
He carried on thrusting into her hard as he did so, and Christine felt genuinely scared by this point, wondering if she'd found a psycho and was about to meet her demise. Tyrell knew exactly what he was doing though, releasing at just the right time, Christine taking in a deep breath the second he let go.
She knew then that it was all part of his plan, and though she never wanted to feel so helpless ever again, the adrenalin was coursing round her like a drug and she felt so damn elated, a state that felt new to her. Just as she was reeling from being half strangled, Tyrell pulled out of her and, standing up, said "On your knees bitch...kneel in front of the mirror....".
She loved him talking nasty like that, and she did as he asked obediently, wondering what could possibly happen next. Tyrell then grabbed her handbag and turned it upside down on the bed, the contents spread over the sheets. He picked up what he was looking for, her lipstick, then walked over to her, and she watched him daub lipstick onto her chest but she couldn't read what it said....
He then cast the lipstick aside and grabbed her hair tightly, yanking her head back. "Tongue out, bitch..." he grunted, and she dutifully thrust it out. She knew what was coming now as he wrapped her hair round his fist, his other hand slowly jerking his long length of prime black meat, the bulbous tip brought near her open mouth and awaiting tongue.
She closed her eyes and waited for the divine moment of release, presaged by Tyrell's deep, primitive grunt, then the hot, violent spatter of his thick seed arcing over her face, some shooting straight down her throat and over her tongue, some dripping off her chin down onto her breasts. It was relentless, her face felt coated with it, a liquid mask....a souvenir of sin....
She reached down to bring on her own climax, her juices trickling down her thighs over her stocking-tops, as Tyrell marked his territory with his semen. He sighed with relief as the last drops spurted from him and he stepped aside, grabbing Christine by the hair and letting her look in the mirror at herself. She barely recognized the woman in the reflection, her hair like a bird's nest, her face a sordid mess of smeared make-up and cum.
She then noticed what Tyrell had written on her chest, the word 'WHORE' daubed in thick red lipstick, and as she looked up at her new master and rubbed his jizm into her full, reddened breasts she knew her initiation was complete....she was now his 'shade'.....
The Night She Met Tyrell Page 2