The Sweet Wife Read Online Free Page A

“Please, fuck me,” she said.
    “You want the black man’s cock?”
    “Yes, I want the black man’s cock.” She placed her hands on his thighs and looked up at him.
    He stared at her, his face set, “That’s right,” he said, “you got to want it…want it bad. The black man ain’t like the white man. White man do anything to fuck your pussy. You white bitches use that, you know. You think your pussy’s made of gold cause the white man act like it is. He thinks about your pussy all the damn time. With the black man, man like me, it’s the opposite. I don’t give a damn about your pussy. I can get all the pussy I need. But you, white bitch like you, don’t ever get a cock like mine. You gonna be thinking about my big black cock all the time. Gonna be wantin it…wantin it real bad.” He leaned forward, “I ain’t only gonna be your black lover, I’m gonna be your black master and you gonna be my pretty little white bitch. Ain’t that right, bitch?”
    He was so full of himself, so confident. This huge, fat, ignorant, black overbearing slob was forcing her to say things she would later regret, but they were just words. She didn’t have to mean them. She swallowed hard, “Yes, tonight I’ll be as you say, your pretty white bitch and you will be my black master.”
    “You gonna worship your master’s cock so maybe he’ll fuck you with it?”
    She looked up at him then bowed her head and was silent. ‘My God, she thought, was he crazy or was she? All her life she’d been in control. Except for this present situation, she made the decisions in her marriage. She’d always known Brian was weak. He deferred to her in everything. Why did she agree to go along with his insane suggestion? She’d always been a strong and independent woman and proud. To be on her knees like this before this black stranger was beyond anything she could have imagined. But there was something…something she couldn’t quite understand. His size maybe, his arrogance, his presumption, his certitude. There was something about him, something about being on her knees like this…something about submitting to a man so obviously her intellectual, social, and cultural inferior that excited her just as much as it humiliated her. Looking up at him, she said, “Please let me see…I mean let me worship your cock”. She reached to unbuckle his belt.
    He grabbed her hands and glared at her. “You need some goddamn lessons,” he said evenly. “That’s the way with you white women. You think you can get whatever you want by just askin. Like I said, it don’t work like that with me. You got to learn how to worship the black man, how to be grateful even if he only lets you look at his prick.” He released her. She let her arms hang at her side and bowed her head. “You never touch your master unless you ask or he lets you know it’s OK for you to touch him. The only thing you touch my dick with is your mouth. You’re gonna learn to worship my cock without using your hands. First thing you do is clean my prick and my balls with your tongue, hands behind your back. Then you’re gonna beg me to fuck your mouth. You’re gonna open wide and learn to take it all. You got that?”
    She glanced up at him and nodded, “I understand.” She frowned. Something was happening that frightened her more than she’d ever been frightened in her life. She comforted herself with the thought that it would be over in a few hours. This huge powerful black man would be gone and that would be that. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something more or to do something.
    She put her hands behind her back. “That’s it, you got the right idea,” he said. “Sometime you’ll just suck me slow and easy. Other times I gonna hold your head and fuck your mouth hard just like it was your cunt.” She clasped her hands tightly and felt a shiver go through her body. He leaned forward, “I cum good. I can cum two, three times in a couple hours. There’s