Rebel Yell of Charlotte

While visiting some relatives in the South, I met a woman named Charlotte online.  She was a little over an hour away, but was interested in meeting and willing to make the drive.  I didn’t take her offer too seriously, but we exchanged numbers and she called while she was driving to let me know that she was on her way.

Being that I was staying with relatives and couldn’t host, Charlotte got a hotel room when she arrived in the city and gave me the room number.  I arrived, and after a few gentle knocks, she answered the door from behind with a shy grin and let me inside.  I checked her out as she locked the door behind me; she wore a silk negligé that enhanced the sex appeal of her curvy body, and black stilettos emphasized her tan legs and muscular calves.

“Nice to meet you,” she said with a bashful grin.

Her voice was high-pitched and sweet, layered with the heavy drawl of a Southern belle.

“Nice to meet you as well,” I said.  “Thanks for driving all this way.”

“Any excuse to leave the house for awhile.”

We had sat on the couch and had a couple of drinks as Charlotte told me about herself —  she was married to a man that was more like a roommate than a husband; they’d married young and drifted far apart from one another to the point where they hadn’t had sex in years.  They had two kids, the older one was in college and the younger one lived at home, and she stayed with her husband in order to maintain a stable environment for the youngest one.  She lived in a city with a lot of Civil Rights history, but over the years it had become a decayed and crime-ridden shadow of its former glory.  Charlotte worked as an ER nurse at a hospital there, where she tended to victims of the city’s violence on a regular basis.  She spoke highly of her co-workers and how they were like family, especially her Black co-workers.  That was no surprise because she had a soulful swagger about her that would be appealing to those who possess the same disposition, which was usually Black folks.

Charlotte mentioned that she’d had a Black boyfriend in high school.  The tale sounded like the premise of a movie we’ve all seen:  Two kids from opposite sides of the tracks, he was a star football player being recruited by major colleges around the country and she was the popular girl in school, Honors Student, and head cheerleader.  Her mother disapproved of their relationship but they kept dating each other despite the opposition.  One evening, Charlotte’s mother confronted and attacked the boyfriend, threatening to end his aspiring football career with false allegations of sexual assault and anything else she could come up with to smear his athletic opportunities.  Not wanting his future jeopardized, Charlotte’s boyfriend complied with her mother’s threats and never spoke to her again.  Charlotte never knew what her mother did until years later, causing a rift between them that didn’t mend for quite awhile.

After we lightened the mood with a few funny jokes, our lips found their way to each other.  We engaged in some passionate kissing as I ran my hand up her thigh and underneath her nightie.  I felt the clit of her wet and meaty pussy swell between my fingers as I massaged it.  She unfastened my pants and took out my erect cock.

“Oh my God,” she gawked as she gripped it with both hands.  “Is this real?”

I smirked as she built up the courage to put it in her mouth.  She opened wide and guzzled as deep as she could, keeping the shaft smeared with a blanket of saliva as she slurped and sucked like a seasoned vet.  When she’d rise and gasp for air, the spit threaded between my cock her lips.

“Let me put it inside of you,” I said.

She walked to the edge of the bed and stood on her tiptoes.  Her rounded, athletic calves flexed as she leaned forward and pushed her ass towards me.  I slipped on a condom and eased my cock inside of her dripping pussy.  She belted a painful moan as she pressed her hand against my stomach and moved forward to pull away, but I grabbed her by the waist and gently maneuvered her back and forth until she took it without resistance.   I propped my left leg onto the bed, giving me more leverage to go deeper and harder.  She screamed with pleasure and began moving in a tempo of her own until she came.

“Get on top of me,” I said as I rested on my back.

She straddled me, put my cock inside of her, and rode me with an intensity that would make a bull rider jealous.  Her fingernails dug into my chest as she bounced on me in a rhythmless pattern of carnal indulgence.  It was in that moment she muttered:

“Fuck me with that big nigger cock.”

I wasn’t sure if I’d heard her correctly.

“What’d you say?” I asked.

“Fuck me with that big nigger cock,” she moaned, louder.

Yep, I’d heard her correctly.  None of our correspondence or conversations prior to meeting eluded to her wanting to engage in any kind of race-degradation fantasies.  But she repeated it over and over, raising her aggression with each announcement, until she came and belted a cry that I was sure would have hotel security bursting through the door at any moment.

Her hair drooped onto my face as she fell forward and panted into my ear.

“You’re so fucking amazing,” she whispered in between the torrents of hot and heavy puffing.

I rolled her over into the Pretzel Dip position, a favorite of mine when I want to go as deep as possible and have total control.  When I slid my cock inside of her, she knew this wasn’t going to be a position where she could resist the depth of my strokes.


“Go easy baby,” she pleaded as she pressed her hand against my chest.

“Fuck that.”  I moved her hand away.  “You want some big nigger cock, I’m gonna give it to you.”

I rammed my dick all the way inside of her, smashing against the wall of her cervix with every thrust.  I put my hand around her neck and gave it a tender squeeze to see how she’d respond.  She grabbed my wrist and gestured for me to squeeze harder.  I tightened my grip and continued fucking her.  Her face turned red and her arm went up in the air like she was reaching for something.  She needed air, so I unclasped my hand and let her breathe.

“You like that big nigger cock don’t you?” I asked.

She couldn’t answer.  She was too busy getting oxygen back into her body.  I grabbed her hair and yanked her ear to my lips as I leaned in and whispered:

“You want more of this big nigger cock?  Answer me.”

“Please… please give me more,” she muttered.

I put her head back down and resumed the pummeling.  She bit into the bed sheet and muffled her wails as she came.  I pulled out, smacked my cock against her thigh, and watched as the orgasms overcame her body and sent her into a round of heavy convulsions.  After the fit ceased,  her body was limp and sweaty and her hair was a cluster of sweat-soaked, brunette strands.  She moved a lock of hair away from her lips and mumbled:

“That was… I don’t even know… my body…”

“I’m not done,” I interrupted.

I pressed my body against her back, bent one of her legs forward, and slid my dick inside of her.  I then hoisted myself into a push-up like position and watched her thick ass bounce against my waist as I gave it to her with no mercy.

I pulled out and came all over her ass as she climaxed with me.  I grabbed a towel from the restroom, cleaned the cum from her ass, and lied beside her.  She rolled over and draped herself across my chest, caressing and and kissing it like a prized possession.

“That was amazing.  I’ve never been fucked like that before,” she said.

“Did it turn you on to say big nigger cock?” I asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“You kept saying, ‘fuck me with your big nigger cock.’

She rose and looked at me in shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.  You don’t remember?”

She stared at me in bewilderment.  “No.  Oh my God, I didn’t even realize I was saying that.  I’m sorry if I offended you… I really didn’t mean to say that.”

“You didn’t offend me.  I was just surprised.”

“I’m surprised too.  I have no idea where that came from.”

Charlotte stared out of the window, distraught.  I rubbed her thigh and wondered what was running through her mind.  She lied her head on my chest again and made a few more apologies.  I reassured her that everything was fine.  Whatever was plaguing her thoughts was far greater than the unusual pleasure we both enjoyed from that unanticipated tirade.



No Comments Yet.

Leave a Reply