When You Introduced Me To Your Girlfriend, Of Course, She Wasn’t Dressed Like She Is Here, In The Pic

When you introduced me to your girlfriend, of course, she wasn’t dressed like she is here, in the pic I took today. She was wearing a cute skater skirt and tight top, elegant sparkly strappy heels. Painted toenails. She bent her neck to look up at me like I was a tree in the forest. I was the only black man there. She just stood next to me asking questions, looking down at the floor and gradually lifting her face and smiling. As if she was a bit afraid.  She came from the south. I was two decades older than her. I had a different accent, more educated, she said. My work takes me to Europe and Asia I said. I am a financial professional –  I paused then – and I am also a post-graduate student working on my thesis on the power relationships between black men and married or seriously attached white women. Very specialized. “What does that mean, attached?” she said. It means committed to a long term relationship. Fascinating, she said. She said I seemed like someone she could learn from. She said she loved to learn. I said I bet that’s true.

Later she said a switch flipped at that point -  I paid more attention. She was about ten or twelve years younger than any women I was used to, an age I tended to avoid rather than seek. But my interest was piqued. We had coffee a couple of times. One day, over coffee she suddenly stopped talking and sat up like she was on her best behavior and got very serious. “Is it true, what they say?” she asked. About what? “About, you know, the size… the size of black… of black men’s…” I forced her to say it. “The size of black men’s cocks.” No, I said. The average is maybe half an inch longer than white cocks. But I bring the average up, by a few inches.

About her boyfriend, she said. “I can’t be faithful all the time,” she said. “My boyfriend doesn’t have to know everything.” She was a clear thinker. Oh, I also remember in those early days she was surprisingly bashful about saying some words, even words like “whore” or “sexual”. However, she has changed. Now your girlfriend loves it when I talk about her cheating pussy. She says things like she wants to work to become the perfect little whore, which is typical of her – she’s the sort of girl that sets her mind to improving herself. I tell her yes, that is improving herself, that she’s a good girl. With me, now, she’s not shy at all. She skinny dips when we go over to my friend’s pool during the day while he’s at work – we’re in the habit of going over there after we fuck in the afternoon, when she has told her bf she’s working on presentations. I always have presentations, she says. I’ve learned just how to pinch and brush her nipples so her pussy gets soaked. I’ve learned how to paralyze her with pleasure by fingerfucking her in certain ways. At first she was really nervous about my big cock but now she sinks herself down on it like she’s in heaven. At first I didn’t know what to think of her, but now I’m charmed. Look at this picture of her today – so uninhibited, her cute petite hot body that she gives so completely and without restraint when we fuck. Maybe she will become the perfect little whore.