The White Guy
The last white man I fucked was my husband. It was some time in 2012 and things were already strained with us. It was after that night that I told my lover and owner, Clarence, that I didn’t want to sleep with white men any longer. It felt weird. Not bad, not good. Just weird.
Scroll forward three years. I live with Clarence. I’ve slept with a lot of black men in between. Occasionally, a couple of times a year, he whores me out. Usually through his friend Rolly, who’s an actual pimp. This time though, things went a little differently. Clarence gave me the address himself and said, “One more thing. This guy is white.”
It started a fight between us. We don’t fight often and I’m not going to go into the details here. The point is, Clarence won. In the end, we both agreed that his rules, his desires were more important that my preferences.
The other thing that was different was that this guy didn’t want me to dress up in a way that I usually dressed when meeting a guy for sex. He didn’t want high heels or skirts. Instead, he wanted me to dress like a “soccer mom” as Clarence described it. Normal jeans, kitten heels, a fairly conservative top, minimal makeup. And a wedding ring. Clarence told the guy I wasn’t married but “Thomas” asked Clarence if I could wear a wedding ring and pretend I was a cheating wife. It was strange slipping David’s ring back on my finger.
Clarence let me know that this guy was a client of a client from his real day job, so no one that Clarence was working with directly, but still someone that moved in his circles. Clarence had met the guy once while working, but this Thomas fellow didn’t know that it was Clarence that was doing the pimping. Their mutual friend had just given the guy Clarence’s phone number and said, “Talk to this guy, he’ll hook you up.” Clarence told me that as far as this guy knew, I was just a normal prostitute.
Because we didn’t know the guy well, Clarence drove me to his hotel room out near the airport and then told me he’d be waiting in the restaurant across the street. This guy had one hour with me and then we’d either have to make arrangements with Clarence for more time, or I was gone.
I did a couple of vodka shots just before we left because I was nervous as all hell. When Thomas answered the door, I was surprised. I expected some middle-aged, paunchy, pale guy. Instead, I had to admit, he was handsome. He must have been in his early 30s with dark hair. He had on fitted jeans and a t-shirt with a band logo I didn’t recognize. There were a long series of tribal tattoos down one arm.
He opened the door casually and said, “Come on in,” with an alarmingly normal smile.
I don’t know why, but it wasn’t until that moment that my brain finally fired and I thought, “Why did Clarence want me to sleep with this guy in particular? What was it about him that made Clarence make an exception?”
His room was neat and clean, almost like it wasn’t lived in. He offered me a bottle of mini-booze from the fridge and I took him up on another vodka. He wasn’t nervous and I could tell this wasn’t his first time with a prostitute.
After the drink and pleasantries and the cash situation, he got right down to business. I sat on the side of the bed while he took a seat facing me at the little table by the window. “We’ve only got an hour and I want to get right into my thing.” Uh oh. He had a thing. “Basically, I used to spy on my aunt when I was a kid. She lived with us for awhile while she was separated. She cheated on her husband, my uncle. I had the room next to hers and I could crawl out of my window out onto this ledge and peak into her room. I used to do it just to watch her get undressed. But that summer, I watched her fuck probably 30 different guys. Then my uncle would come over and she would lie straight to his face about how she wanted to patch things up and that she still loved him. Anyway. Long story short, I want you to pretend that you’re my aunt. Does that freak you out?” He wasn’t worried or embarrassed, he was just asking.
I thought about it for a minute. I looked down at my ring and said, “Nope. I’m okay with that.”
“Okay, so I’m going to step out for just a minute. While I’m gone, I want you to strip all the way down.” He began to mess up the sheets and blankets on the bed. “Then start putting your clothes back on just like normal. After you’ve put your pants on, knock hard once on the end table and I’ll come back in. Just pretend I’m your nephew. Questions?”
“Just one. Should I be pretending to like this? Or are we doing…you know…a rape fantasy here?”
His dark eyes got cloudy and his expression changed to one I’ve seen on many men. “You don’t want me to, but you do.” I nodded, knowing what he meant.
He walked out and closed the door and I undressed. His fantasy wasn’t something I’d played out before, but in the scheme of things, it wasn’t that strange and within my bounds. I could play along. Once I was fully naked, I started getting dressed again. I pulled my panties and jeans on, then rapped on the nightstand.
Thomas came back in the room and said, “Shelly! That’s it! No more cheating on Bill!”
I covered my chest and said, “Thomas! What are you doing here?”
“I followed you! I know you’ve been cheating!” He strode in angrily and grabbed my arms, pulling them away from my chest. He stared down at my tits while he continued to yell. “I’m going to teach you a lesson, aunt Shelly.”
“You don’t understand! I wasn’t cheating! It’s not what you think?” But he ignored me and pulled me over to the bed. Getting behind me, he undid my jeans and pushed them and my underwear down to my knees. Then, sitting on the edge of the bed, he yanked me over his lap.
Using one hand to push my head down, he brought his other down on my ass. I yelped and then screamed and thrashed as he continued to spank me. It wasn’t hard at first, but he kept going until my fake cries were real ones. He finally stopped, breathing hard, running one hand over my ass. Then he said, “I’d like to think this spanking has changed you, aunt Shelly, but it hasn’t, has it?”
“No, it has, Thomas. I promise. No more cheating.” I looked over my shoulder at him.
He shook his head slowly and said, “Liar. You’re a slut, aunt Shelly. A cheating, lying, slut.” He pushed me off of him and said, “Get on your knees.”
“What are you going to do? Don’t tell my husband or my sister, okay?”
Thomas stood up and undid his jeans. “We’ll see. For now you’re going to do what sluts do. I want to know what all those men like about you so much.” He pushed his pants and underwear all the way down and his cock was hard and already wet with pre-cum. It was strange to see a man naked in front of me who was so pale, so Caucasian. He smelled different and immediately, I was reminded of my husband, even though they didn’t look alike. He stepped forward and said, “Open up and suck my dick like the slut you are, Shelly.”
I opened and I couldn’t help but squeeze my eyes shut tight in anticipation of his dick. It wasn’t big or small. Just average. But it wasn’t the size or shape. It was just the mental image of a white guy fucking my mouth. It was difficult for me accept. I did it though and in just a few minutes, I was able to get him all the way down my throat. He was rough with me, but not so much that I couldn’t handle it. He held the sides of my head and fucked my mouth.
When I was all the way down on him he said, “Look up at me, Shelly. I want to see your eyes while I fuck that lying mouth of yours.” He suddenly yanked free from my mouth and stepped back and took a few deep breaths. I think he’d been about to cum.
After a moment, I said, “This is so wrong, Thomas. I’m your aunt. Let’s just pretend this didn’t happen and go home. You don’t tell anyone what happened here and neither will I.”
He turned, a fake anger on his face. Stepping back up to me, he slapped me and said, “This doesn’t make up for all the cheating you’ve done. And you might be my aunt, but you’re a slut first and you’re going to keep getting treated like a slut.” He pushed me onto the bed. Then grabbing a condom from the bed, he began to roll it onto his cock.
“Oh, no, Thomas. We can’t do that. It’s wrong. I’m your aunt.” I held my cheek. It hurt, but it wasn’t much more than a play slap. He stepped out of his jeans and pulled off his shirt. Then he climbed onto the bed and pushed me down, flat onto my stomach. Then he straddled me and I felt his cock lining up between my legs. This was it. A white guy was going to be fucking me. Again, I closed my eyes.
“At least I have the decency to wear a rubber, Shelly. You let all of those men cum inside you. It’s disgusting.” As he slipped inside me, he fell forward on top of me with a grunt. His used his arms to pin my arms and his legs to pin my legs. Then he raised his hips and began to fuck me. “How many men have fucked this dirty pussy, Shelly? I bet a hundred. More.” He began to pick up speed and force and his thrusts were strong. I thought with the way he was going, he would cum in about five minutes, but either he had great self control or the condom helped him hold off. Twenty minutes went by and he was still fucking me.
By then, I’d gone from uptight and uncomfortable, to relaxed and even a little wet, to getting tired and drying up a bit, then back to a little wet. It was during that wet period that the whole thing all made sense. Thomas was still talking quite a bit. Usually saying what a slut I’d been or whatever when he uttered something that brought all of my previous questions together.
We were both sweating and grunting, his pelvis slamming into my ass when he said, “And why were so many of them black, Shelly? What would uncle Bill say if he knew you had so many black dicks in you? And you never had them wear condoms, Shelly. You always let them cum in your pussy. I saw your face, when they did. You were always smiling. You liked them cumming in your sloppy cunt, didn’t you, Shelly? Tell me you liked it!”
“I did, Thomas, I liked them cumming inside me! And if you don’t tell Bill, I’ll let you keep fucking me, okay?” That was when he came. He pounded into me two more times, really hard and then held still, moaning out loudly. Then he laid down on top of me and shook. I thought he might be about to cry. Instead, after a minute or so, he climbed off of me, holding the base of the condom as he slipped out of me. He stepped into the bathroom and hopped into the shower. He came out a minute later and he was back to his old self again.
He smiled a charming smile and said, “Thanks. That was great. You want to shower?”
I was already half-way dressed. “Thanks, but no. So, if you don’t mind me asking, what happened with your aunt? Did she ever get caught? Did they get back together? Did you ever try to live out this fantasy?”
Thomas leaned down and busted out another mini-bottle from the fridge. “They’re back together. As far as I know she never got caught. She might still be doing it. Not sure. Sometimes I think he knows and either likes it or pretends not to know. As for me and her…” He trailed off for a minute and blushed slightly. “About four years ago, totally by chance, we ended up out together. Just she and I. We were drinking. I got the courage up to tell her that I’d always thought she was hot. She said she thought I was the best looking guy in the family. I took that as a go ahead to kiss her.”
“Wow! So you guys hooked up?”
He shook his head and smiled. “No. She let me kiss her. She even kissed me back. It was amazing. When we were done, she took my hand and told me that it would never happen again. Since then, I’ve noticed that she avoids any situation where we might be alone together, but I don’t think she told anyone. Sometimes though, we’ll make eye contact for a couple of seconds and she’ll smile at me. It’s enough.”
I said my goodbyes to Thomas and met up with Clarence. It had been just under an hour. Clarence looked up at me with those big sexy brown eyes of his and said, “All good?”
I gave him a sly grin and said, “All good. I get why you made the exception for him. I still don’t want to go back to sleeping with white guys, but I get it. You’re a good man, my love.” We went home, I took off my wedding ring, hopped in the shower and then Clarence fucked me. He didn’t wear a condom.
I write real stories about my sex life as well as fiction erotica. I post pics and videos of my own exploits. You can find me here, on Xhamster, Tumblr and my own website (which I won't link to in this post considering the rules)
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/3j9leq/the_white_guy_prostitution_incest
Loved it! Thanks for sharing
Yep, rang a few of my bells, nice setup, nice hot themes, good piece of execution. Thanks :)
Glad you liked it hon!
Absolutely!