Wet Black Slits
by Unknown
(bfb-123)


FOREWORD 

The handsome white man loved the wet gash of black girls. He had done PLENTY 
of research on the subject, and he had come to the conclusion that Negro 
pussies were superior to any other kind of pussy. He liked the way they felt 
on his cock better. He liked the way they smelled better, he even liked the 
way they tasted better. 

At that moment the handsome white man was on the bed in the little black 
girl's Brooklyn apartment. They were both naked. 

She was on her back with her legs spread. He was on his belly with his face, 
his head and shoulders, in between her parted thighs. She had her thighs so 
far open that her pussy lips and her ass cheeks had opened along with them. 

He rimmed her ass-hole clean. He began to lick her pussy. He did not stop 
until she was screaming bloody murder with pleasure. 


CHAPTER ONE 

Christopher Adamms locked the hotel room door, after putting the "DO NOT 
DISTURB" sign on the outer knob. 

Already in the room, and already undressing Christopher noticed, was a cheap 
neighborhood prostitute. 

Christopher told himself that he was here for research purposes only, but it 
didn't wash. He did not believe himself. 

The man, who was a sexual-ethnic researcher and writer, was studying the 
sexual abilities and fetishes of American women, by race and religion. He 
had already completed his research on Jewish girls. 

Now he was starting with black girls. Since he did not know many black 
girls, he began his research by purchasing the services of a cheap 
neighborhood hooker. 

The neighborhood was the Astoria section of Queens, which just so happened 
to be where Christopher lived. 

Later, after he and the girl had become familiar with one another, 
Christopher Adamms was going to ask this prostitute a series of questions 
concerning her sex life, both professional and personal. 

But, first of all, Christopher Adamms was going to fuck her. Christopher was 
going to fuck her with his big cock until he made her hungry Negro cunt turn 
inside out. 

Christopher was a very horny guy. He could fuck-or get sucked off-ten to 
fifteen times a day, many days in a row. Then, after a couple of days rest, 
he could do the whole thing all over again. 

Christopher Adamms was perfect for his job. He worked both above and 
undercover, depending on the circumstances. 

On this occasion, Christopher had not yet told the prostitute that he was a 
sexual researcher, working on a book. 

Christopher Adamms wanted the prostitute to think that he was a 
run-of-the-mill customer, at least at first. 

After he plowed her funky poontang, then he would tell her that she was his 
human guinea pig, an ethnically chosen member of his sample of American 
cunts. 

"So you just want a straight fuck, is that what you said?" the woman said. 

"Yeah, would you tell me your name first?" Christopher asked. 

"Yeah, sure. Yvonne," the Negro prostitute responded. 

"Yvonne-what?" Christopher Adamms inquired with a smile. 

He still had all of his clothes on. Yvonne could not help but notice the big 
bulge in the crotch of his trousers. 

Yvonne could tell, even before Christopher Adamms hitched down his trousers, 
that he was hung like a horse. 

like a golden stallion. 

She liked that. 

After getting her pussy fucked by so many puny white men during the course 
of a day it was great, at last, to see a white man who had been blessed by 
nature. 

She was pleased to see that Christopher Adamms possessed a member that could 
fill up her hungry poontang. 

"Yvonne Craig," she said. Yvonne found herself telling the truth to the man. 
She was already thinking about making him a steady customer. Yvonne wanted 
to make sure Christopher could find her in the phone book if he were looking 
for her at some later date-when he was in the mood for a lay again. 

"I'm Christopher," the blonde man said. His blue eyes were twinkling. 

Yvonne Craig could see his cock getting larger by the second. 

"Pleased to meetcha," Yvonne Craig said, tilting her head. 

Christopher Adamms could feel his balls starting to ache. 

"You have a lovely body, Yvonne Craig," Christopher said. 

"Thanks. You are quite a hunk yourself," Yvonne said. 

"I have never solicited the services of a professional before." 

Yvonne Craig felt like telling the white man he was full of shit. 

"There has to be a first time for everything," she responded instead. 

"Yeah," Christopher said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. 
Yvonne Craig quickly undressed and soon was every bit as naked as the day 
she was born. 

"You going to get naked or what? Maybe you just want to chat?" 

"No, no, no, I'll get undressed," Christopher said. 

The truth was that Christopher was somewhat astounded by the intensity of 
his own masculine passion. 

Christopher Adamms could feel himself getting intensely horny as he looked 
at the dark and naked woman. 

He could tell that she was in her early twenties. Christopher Adamms could 
see that her body was sublime! 

He had never felt this passionate while doing his research on Jewish girls, 
although that experience had been quite nice. 

But this was extraordinary. His cock was stretching the material at the 
crotch of his trousers taut. 

His prick felt like it was going to rip right through the crotch of his 
trousers at any second! He could feel the hot blood of his manly passion 
filling the head and shaft of his stiffening member. 

Yvonne could feel herself getting very horny also. She felt that Christopher 
was teasing her by leaving his clothes on for so long. 

This, in spite of the fact that Christopher Adamms and Yvonne Craig had been 
in the hotel room for less than a minute. 

The black hooker could feel the hot blood of her feminine arousal pumping 
downward in her body, pumping toward the cocoa-colored delta between her 
thighs. 

The pretty neighborhood hooker could feel all of the mucous membranes 
between her legs swelling rapidly. 

The super-horny black girl could feel both her inner and outer cunt lips 
growing with great rapidity. 

The passionate Negro girl could tell that soon her cunt would be fully 
engorged with the blood of her lust. 

Soon, Yvonne Craig knew, her poontang was going to grow as puffy and large 
as nature would allow it to get. 

The ebony-skinned professional could feel the glands inside her pussy 
starting to secrete her natural lubrication. 

Christopher Adamms' latest lover could feel her inner twat wall starting to 
"sweat" with her acute passion. 

This did not always happen to Yvonne Craig. There were times when she had to 
fuck without any lubrication. 

Most times, as a matter-of-fact, when she was with a John, her pussy flailed 
to lubricate itself. 

Just for that reason Yvonne always carried a tube of K-Y Jelly in her purse, 
for artificial lubrication. 

The K-Y Jelly, Yvonne Craig knew, also came in handy if a John wanted to 
fuck her Greek-style. Up the ass! 

***** 

Yvonne could tell that it wouldn't be long before her pussy was more than 
just moist because of the natural lubrication secreting from her inner cunt. 

The hooker knew that soon her poontang was going to be more than just damp 
because of her slippery cunt juice. 

The black girl knew that soon her Negro tunnel of lust was going to be 
SOAKING wet with her cunt juice. 

Yvonne could feel her clitoris growing, along with the rest of her Negro 
poontang's mucous membrane tissues. 

Yvonne Craig could feel that clit, that fiery bulb of womanly pleasure, 
getting steadily larger and harder. 

The pretty neighborhood hooker could feel her little man in the boat turning 
into a feminine erection. 

The passionate Negro girl could feel her clit pushing her clitoral foreskin 
up-up and out of the way. 

The ebony-skinned professional could feel her love button swelling right out 
from under the fleshy sheath-the sheath that usually all but covered it. 

Christopher Adamms' latest lover could feel her clit growing so large that 
it was ready to pop from the pressure. 

Yvonne's clit grew so large that it more greatly resembled the head of a 
baby boy's cock than the focal point of her intensifying feminine cravings. 
The woman found that it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her 
lower torso still on the bed. 

Yvonne Craig found that she was rocking back and forth, shifting the weight 
of her lower torso from one ass cheek to the other-and then back again. She 
could feel her natural lubrication pooling and accumulating at the base of 
her cunt slash, in between her protruding and slightly curled back inner 
cunt lips, at the mouth of her hungry fuck hole. 

The pretty neighborhood hooker was gyrating her round, near perfect hips on 
the bed, writhing with desire. 

Christopher looked into the hooker's eyes to see if she were acting. He knew 
that there were prostitutes in the world who were very good at their jobs 
without any real passion at all. These were women who deserved the Academy 
Award for best actress-twenty or thirty times a day for years on end. 

Christopher Adamms could tell, at least he thought he could tell, that 
Yvonne Craig was being sincere. 

He looked at her wanton expression, the need in her eyes, the puffiness of 
her lips (both sets), and he believed her. 

Then he moved to the foot of the bed and stared in between Yvonne Craig's 
legs, at her chocolate colored gash. 

He saw how wet the hooker's pussy was becoming, and he knew there was no way 
she could fake those secretions. 

She was getting all worked up, there could be no doubt about that. 

"You are getting hot," Christopher Adamms exclaimed. 

"Sure. I'm getting hotter than a pepper sprout!" she said. 

"I hadn't expected that. Not from-not from-" Christopher stopped. 

"Not from a hooker?" Yvonne Craig said, completing his sentence for him, 
with a knowing smile. 

"Yes, yes, yes, that's what I was trying to say," he said. 

"You got something against a girl who enjoys her work?" 

"No, not at all. I am PLEASANTLY surprised, you see." 

"Good. I was hoping you wasn't one of them weird-o's. Believe it or not, 
there are guys in this world who get off by knowing I don't enjoy being with 
them." 

"I believe it." 

"They like to pretend that they are raping me or something. I don't 
understand some things," Yvonne said. 

"Me neither." 

"You ever fantasize about raping a woman, Christopher?" 

"Nope. In my fantasies the girl is always having a VERY good time." 

"I think I am going to like you," Yvonne said, her nipples hardening. 

"I think I am going to like you, too, Yvonne," Christopher said. 

"I want you to know something, Christopher, and you don't have to believe me 
if you don't want to, but I am going to say it anyway," the hooker 
whispered. 

"What?" 

"I can't remember the last time I got this horny." 

"Okay if I tell you a secret in return?" Christopher said. "What?" 

"Me neither," Christopher Adamms said, and they laughed together. "Get 
naked!" she said. 

Yvonne Craig sounded, for all the world at that moment to Christopher 
Adamms, like a cheerleader shouting BLOCK THAT KICK! 

Christopher reached down and grabbed at the brass buckle to his black 
leather belt. His fingers were long and thick. Yvonne had a sneaking 
suspicion that this wasn't the only part of his body that was long and 
thick. 

Christopher Adamms opened up the buckle and then unbuttoned the single 
button that held the top of his trousers closed. 

The handsome sexologist and writer then grabbed the latch to the zipper to 
his fly securely. He gripped with his right thumb and forefinger and pulled 
the zipper to his fly all the way down. His pants opened at the top. 

"Ummmmmmmmmmmmm, you must be hung like a horse!" she said. 

"I guess I am abnormally large," Christopher Adamms said. 

"You make it sound like a big cock is unappealing." 

"I have been known to scare some women with my pecker." 

"You sure as hell don't have to worry about that." 

"Good." 

"Not with me." 

"Excellent." 

"I can take every inch of your cock, Christopher!" 

"I was hoping you might be able to. It gets to be a drag, with smaller 
women, fucking with just the tip." 

"I can imagine. I'll give you FULL FUCK STROKE, baby." 

"Yeah!" 

***** 

Christopher pushed his thumbs under the tops of his trousers until they were 
under the elastic at the top of his underwear as well. 

His cock had grown so large that it felt trapped inside his underwear, as if 
it were suffocating, as if it were held prisoner inside a cloth trap through 
which no fresh air could pass. Christopher Adamms pulled down his trousers 
and his underwear simultaneously. 

His cock came popping out of his pants like some kind of sexually aroused 
jack-in-the-box. Yvonne gasped. 

The handsome sexologist and writer sighed. His cock felt as if it could 
breathe again. His pecker was free! 

"My God!" Yvonne Craig exclaimed loudly, her eyes wide. 

The pretty neighborhood hooker's eyes were so wide that the whites were 
visible all the way around her dark brown irises. 

"What's the matter?" Christopher Adamms asked, his face partially amused and 
partially concerned-so that he would be ready for any response she might 
give. 

"Your cock is huge!" Yvonne said in a stage-whisper. 

"You knew that even before I whipped it out," he said. 

"It is even bigger than I thought it was going to be." 

"Are you frightened by it?" Christopher said. He spoke carefully. He didn't 
want the slightest accent of hopefulness to be in his voice when he said 
these words. 

Christopher Adamms knew, all to well, that he had a deep, dark, inner side-a 
side that LIKED to scare pretty girls with the size of his tool of manhood. 

"Not at all. I LOVE IT!" Yvonne said. She decided that she had better keep 
her mouth shut concerning her fondness for his anatomy. Once she had 
complimented a guy and his huge cock and balls so much that, after he and 
Yvonne Craig finished fucking, the well-hung man had requested a discount on 
her charge. The man thought, for reasons that were beyond Yvonne, that she 
shouldn't receive full payment if she enjoyed herself. He thought she 
definitely deserved less money considering the fact that he had actually 
made her come with his turgid ramrod of rock-hard man-beef. 

Yvonne Craig did not think Christopher would be like that. But she knew it 
was better to be safe than sorry. 

She had to assure herself that he would be a steady customer without 
allowing his ego to go out of control. 

It was a tough job. The pretty neighborhood hooker knew that she was up to 
it. Christopher looked like he had some money. She figured that there might 
be a nice tip in it for her if she threw the handsome blonde a great fuck. 

The super-horny black girl knew that she was not going to have to work very 
hard at all to give Christopher a great fuck. 

The passionate Negro girl knew that she would just have to let nature take 
its course. Things would work out. 

The ebony-skinned professional could feel her natural lubrication drooling 
from the base of her pussy. 

Christopher Adamms' latest lover could feel that juice rolling over the 
inch-long patch of mucous membrane in between her cunt's base and her tight 
ass-hole. 

Yvonne could tell that it was not going to be very long-no, not very long at 
all-before her natural lubrication began to make a wet spot on the hotel 
room bedspread. Yvonne Craig did not care. 

The pretty hooker knew she didn't have to do the laundry. 

Yvonne could smell the scent of her cunt wafting up from between her legs 
toward her flaring Negro nostrils. 

Yvonne Craig had known ever since she was a little girl that she simply 
LOVED the smell of her own cunt. 

She was so funky. 

So animalistic. 

She smelled like a bitch in heat. 

There was something oddly satisfying for Yvonne Craig about sniffing her own 
passionate cunt aroma! 

The super-horny black girl could not take her eyes off of Christopher's 
cock. She could see that his pecker was easily ten inches long. She figured 
that his pecker was close to ten and a half inches long. 

The passionate Negro girl, however, was more amazed by the thickness of 
Christopher Adamms' member than by the length. She could never remember 
seeing a cock on a white man with that kind of girth. 

Christopher Adamms' latest lover could see that the blonde man's cock was 
thicker than one of her wrists. 

The prone prostitute could see that the man's dick was close to being as 
thick as both of her wrists put together. 

Yvonne could see that Christopher's cock was thickest at the head, which was 
shaped like a mushroom cap. 

Yvonne Craig thought that Christopher's pecker head was shaped like a purple 
doorknob, or a grossly overgrown acorn. 

The super-horny black girl thought that Christopher Adamms' cock head was 
shaped like the sort of acorn from which mighty oak trees grow. She was 
astounded. 

Amazed. 

Flabbergasted. 

The black girl could see that the head had turned a deep purple color-almost 
a blue-black hue-because of the thorough engorgement Christopher was 
experiencing down there at the top of his rod. 

The Negro hooker could see that the skin covering the head of his cock was 
stretched thin and smooth. 

She could see that the cock was so swollen-especially at the head-that it 
looked as if it would explode if another single drop of blood tried to pump 
its way inside. 

The black girl found herself looking at the little hole at the very tip of 
Christopher's pecker. 

This was the hole through which both Christopher Adamms' golden urine and 
silver seed emerged violently. 

Yvonne could see that there were swollen little lips on either side of 
Christopher's cute piss hole. 

The black-hooker thought that those tiny lips made the urethra look very 
much like a small mouth. 

The Negro prostitute thought the hole looked like a toothless mouth. Yvonne 
Craig almost giggled. 

The black-skinned streetwalker could see Christopher Adamms' piss hole 
opening and closing rhythmically. 

The ebony whore thought the tiny mouth looked as if it were trying in vain 
to sing aloud with its desire. 

The kinky-haired professional fucker could see that the shaft of 
Christopher's cock was skinnier than the head. 

The pretty neighborhood hooker could see that the stem was a slightly 
lighter shade of purple too. 

Yvonne noticed, however, that these differences between the head and shaft 
of the cock were not great ones. 

Yvonne Craig could see also that the shaft of Christopher Adamms' took of 
manhood was every bit as hard as the head. 

It was as hard as rock. It was as hard as real granite. 

It was as hard as a pillar of marble, Yvonne thought. 

***** 

Christopher's cock was sticking out straight in front of his masculinely 
sloped loins, like an arrow. 

Christopher Adamms' cock was sticking out straight from his underbelly, like 
a good soldier-standing at attention. 

The handsome sexologist and writer's dick was bobbing up and down in front 
of him with great anxiousness. 

Yvonne could see that the tip of Christopher's cock was snapping upward, 
higher and higher, closer and closer to the flat plane of the white man's 
belly. 

Yvonne Craig could see that the tip of Christopher's cock was aiming for a 
place several inches above his bellybutton, thus giving her a concrete 
perspective of just low long that dong really was. 

The black girl could see that the tip of Christopher's cock came closer and 
closer to his tummy, but that direct contact with his belly was never made. 

The Negro hooker expected his cock to start violently slapping his own 
stomach at any second-but this never happened. 

Christopher Adamms' member was bobbing up and down as if attached to his 
loins at the base by a tightly-sprung hinge. 

Because of the way his cock head was snapping upward, like a catapult, 
Yvonne found herself looking predominantly at the underside of his thick 
stem. 

Yvonne Craig could see that his cock shaft, at least on the underside, was 
lined with dilated blue veins. 

She could see that those veins were sticking out from what would have been 
an otherwise smooth tube of flesh. 

The veins were making Christopher's cock shaft look craggy. 

Gnarled. 

Angry. 

Yvonne thought that Christopher Adamms' member certainly looked a hell of a 
lot more like an angry weapon than it did like an instrument of love-making. 

What amazed Yvonne Craig was that there was something about this aspect of 
Christopher's cock's appearance that greatly appealed to herturned her on! 

The pretty neighborhood hooker lowered her eyes and found herself looking at 
the sack that held his balls. 

His scrotum. 

Christopher Adamms' balls, like his cock, were the largest Yvonne Craig had 
ever seen on a white man. 

The handsome sexologist and writer's nuts, Yvonne Craig could see, were the 
size of golf balls! 

The well-hung ethnic-sexual researcher's testicles, the black hooker 
noticed, were shaped like chicken eggs. 

The well-hung ethnic-sexual researcher's twin glands of masculinity felt 
swollen to thrice their normal size. 

This, however, was sensual hyperbole being created by Christopher Adamms' 
libidinous nervous-system. 

His balls were not really as swollen as they felt. 

Yvonne Craig could see that Christopher's balls were resting very heavily at 
the base of his scrotum. 

The pretty neighborhood hooker could see that his scrotal sack appeared 
filled to the brim with come. 

The passionate Negro girl could see that Christopher's scrotum appeared 
ready to overflow with come. 

Judging solely on the look of the man's sack, Yvonne would have thought he 
had not come in about a month. 

Judging, however, from Christopher Adamms' handsome face and hunky body, 
Yvonne figured this was not true. 

But who knew? 

For all Yvonne knew the man might have been out of commission for a month or 
so with a physical or psychological problem. 

Just because he looked like a stud did not mean that Christopher Adamms felt 
like a stud, Yvonne Craig knew. 

All hookers become head-shrinkers after awhile. She knew that one could not 
judge a book by their cover. 

Some of the biggest and handsomest men she had fucked had been plagued by 
near-desperate insecurities. 

On the other hand some of the plainest and smallest of her customers had 
turned out to be great lovers, simply because they lacked these self-induced 
insecurities. 

All else equal, it was true that Yvonne Craig preferred her cocks BIG-but 
only if the lover behind the cock knew what he was doing. 

The pretty neighborhood hooker would have chosen a good lover with a small 
cock over a bad lover with a big cock any day. 

She was feeling good, but she told herself that she not forget the jury was 
still out on this hunky blonde. 

Christopher got his pants and his underwear all the way down to his ankles 
before he realized he had forgotten to remove his shoes and socks. 

***** 

Christopher Adamms sat on the foot of the bed and removed his shoes and then 
his socks. He pulled both his trousers and his underwear off over his feet 
simultaneously. Christopher could feel Yvonne's toes running up and down his 
back, on either side of his backbone, kneading at the muscles in between his 
extraordinarily broad shoulder blades. 

What would she think when she found out he was taking mental notes, fucking 
her for a research project? Christopher Adamms wondered. This problem had 
come up before. He feared he would bias his sample irrevocably if he told 
all lovers immediately that they were human guinea pigs. Christopher wanted 
to see Yvonne Craig behave normally, not as if she were being graded on her 
sexual skill. 

Still, it always made Christopher nervous to fuck women under false 
pretenses, even on this occasion when he planned on shelling out cold hard 
cash for the fuck. 

Christopher Adamms unbuttoned his shirt and removed it over his shoulders. 
He tossed the shirt aside carelessly, without even bothering to turn his 
head and see where it landed. 

Yvonne, however, found her eyes involuntarily following the flight of his 
suddenly crumpled shirt, as it was tossed into the far corner of the hotel 
room, into the corner furthest from the door that led to the hallway. 

They were in Room Six Sixty-Nine. That had struck Christopher Adamms as 
symbolically appropriate, but he did not mention this to the black girl, out 
of fear that she would not get the joke. 

Little did Christopher Adamms know that Yvonne Craig was amused for 
precisely the same reason the instant she saw the number on the plastic 
thing that was attached to the hotel key. 

The handsome sexologist and writer was as naked as she. 

He turned to face her. 

Christopher once again stared in between Yvonne's thighs, at her swollen and 
juicy poontang slash. 

Christopher Adamms could see her natural lubrication dripping out of the 
base of her pussy in a steady flow. 

The handsome sexologist and writer thought that juice looked like so many 
melted pearls as it oozed from her poontang, from her oozing cooze, from her 
quivering quim. 

Yvonne's clitoris felt so swollen by this time that she thought it was going 
to come popping right out of its little nest at the top of her slash. 

Yvonne Craig's little man in the boat-which was no longer so little-felt 
like it was going to explode at any second from the internal pressure she 
was experiencing down there. 

The pretty neighborhood hooker's love button was practically demanding to be 
stimulated. The man climbed onto the bed, right on top of the black hooker. 

Christopher could feel her fine tits against his chest. 

There was a moment when he had the full weight of his huge upper torso 
pressing down on her. He was pressing her tits flat. 

Christopher could feel her nipples throbbing against him. 

Christopher Adamms' chest was so heavy upon the woman that she found it 
impossible to fill her lungs with air. 

Yvonne communicated her problem to Christopher efficiently by pushing at his 
broad shoulders a little with tiny black hands. 

The well-hung ethnic-sexual researcher could feel the entire length of his 
cock being pinned between their bellies. 

The passionate Negro girl could feel the tip of his cock throbbing in 
between her bellybutton and her tits. 

The ebony-skinned professional could feel the base of his cock pulsating 
against the base of her furry mound. 

Christopher Adamms' latest lover knew just how far the handsome man's cock 
was going to have to push into her lower belly before her inner cunt lips 
would have the honor of gripping his fleshy sword at the hilt. 

Yvonne Craig knew that she would feel IMPALED by his cock. She knew that she 
would feel run-through like the black and white loser in an ancient 
cinematic swordfight. 

The black girl contemplated how far her inner cunt lips were going to have 
to open to take just the head of his cock. 

The Negro hooker knew that her pussy's mucous membranes were going to have 
to stretch as far as they could possibly go in every possible direction to 
accommodate the bulk of Christopher's pecker. She was looking forward to the 
sexual challenge, you bet. 

Christopher had his long legs kicked out behind him toward the foot of the 
bed. For a moment he was resting on the tops of his feet and his hairy 
knees. 

Christopher Adamms' ankles and knees were close together. 

The handsome sexologist and writer then, sensing that Yvonne Craig was 
having difficulty breathing properly, placed the palms of his hands flat on 
the bed with his fingers slightly parted. As Yvonne had her head resting on 
a pillow, Christopher had to tuck his fingertips underneath that soft foam 
rubber pillow to do this. He pushed down with his palms and lifted his upper 
torso a few inches. 

Christopher lifted his chest so that only her nipples were touching him, 
both his chest and his chest hair. 

Christopher Adamms lifted so that Yvonne Craig's knockers were allowed to 
return to their natural shape. 

The pretty neighborhood hooker was pleased to find that she could once again 
completely fill her lungs with air. 

The handsome sexologist and writer kicked up onto his toes and lifted his 
loins a bit. His balls lifted away from the mouth of Yvonne's fuck hole. 

The well-hung ethnic-sexual researcher looked as if he were about to do a 
series of push-ups on top of the black hooker. 

In a sense, he was. 

The base of his pecker lifted away from the kinky black hair that covered 
Yvonne Craig's sloping mound. 

Only the tip of his cock was touching her, now throbbing half way in between 
her bush and her navel. 

He continued to press downward with the palms of his hand and he arched his 
back rather sharply, so that even her nipples were no longer touching his 
chest. 

Every once in a while Yvonne Craig could feel his chest airs grazing the 
feminine erections at the tips of her tits, but that was about it. 

Christopher then supported the weight of his upper torso with his left hand 
exclusively. He reached back with his right hand and made a tight fist 
around the base of his cock shaft-gripping so tightly that each and every 
one of his right knuckles were momentarily whitened by the tension he 
exerted. 

***** 

Christopher squeezed the stem of his meat loaf three times, just to make 
sure he was as hard and thick as possible. 

Christopher had nothing to worry about in the boner department, there could 
be no doubt about that. 

Christopher's erection was full-fledged. Yvonne could tell just by looking 
at Christopher's manly pole that it was hard as diamond. 

The handsome sexologist and writer, in truth, only squeezed his cock twice 
experimentally. The third squeeze was purely masturbatory in nature. He did 
it just because it felt so motherfucking good! 

Then Christopher used his right hand to guide the tip of his cock to the 
moist slash in between her legs. 

The head of Christopher's cock was so hypersensitive that her pubic hairs 
felt as rough as steel wool on the stretched skin covering it, and every 
rougher than that against the swollen little lips on either side of his 
opening and closing urethra. 

The very tip of Christopher's cock touched the black hooker's clitoris-and 
they both jerked with the mutual pleasure they shared at that moment. Yes, 
Yvonne thought this felt very good-but it was no longer what she wanted most 
of all. 

Yvonne Craig could feel her clitoris's role as the focal point of her 
womanly desire being usurped momentarily-no doubt by the knowledge that she 
was about to have her pussy plowed by Christopher Adamms' ten and a half 
inch manpole. 

The pretty neighborhood hooker could feel the focal point of her desire 
shifting to a new magic spot, a spot deep inside her pussy, as her love 
button was reduced to a secondary erogenous zone. 

The super-horny black girl could feel the new spot of sexual itch forming on 
the upper roof n: her inner cunt. 

The new spot, Yvonne Craig could feel, very close to her dimpled cervix-to 
the mouth of her womb. 

Christopher ran the tip of his cock down the entire length of her cunt 
slash. J this for several reasons. 

For one thing, it felt VERY good for both of them. 

But-more importantly-Christopher Adamms knew that the initial penetration of 
her cunt would be easier for them both if both his pole and her hole were 
wet and slippery with Yvonne Craig's natural lubrication. 

He then moved his cock head to the base of Yvonne Craig's poontang slash. 
Chris wiggled his ass cheeks from side to side a little bit, working the tip 
of his pecker in between the curled back outer edges of her inner cunt lips. 
He had his bulbous purple cock head poised at the mouth of her fuck hole. 

"I need your cock inside me so badly, Christopher. " 

"Your pussy flesh feels so good against my cock head." 

"I want you to fill me-chock full-with your cock." 

"I want to feel your cunt sucking my pecker off!" 

"I want to feel you filling me to the brim with meat." 

"I want to feel your cunt stretching to hold me." 

"I want to feel you push into my soft underbelly." 

"I want to feel your inner cunt stroking my pole." 

"I want to feel you plowing the core of my womanhood." 

"I want to feel my come boil with my passion, baby." 

"I want to feel you driving pleasure into my twat." 

"I can smell your cunt, Yvonne. It fills my sinuse-" 

"Do you like the way my cunt smells, Christopher?" 

"I love it. It is making my brain spin with lust." 

"Can you feel the scent of my pussy intoxicating you?" 

"Yes. I am getting drunk with my-with my passion." 

"You are going to make me come with that cock, lover." 

"I hope so. But don't fake it. I can't stand phonies." 

"I won't have to fake it. Not this time, Christopher. " 

"I hope I can fuck so for long enough to make you come." 

"I think I have a hair trigger when it comes to orgasms." 

"Is that true always, or is that true just this time?" 

"Just this time, Christopher, just this time, baby." 

Christopher could feel his intense passion having an acute effect on his 
respiratory system. He could feel and hear his breaths getting shorter and 
closer together. 

Christopher Adamms realized that he was panting-panting just like a wild 
jungle beast-just like the wild animal he wanted so badly to become. 

The handsome sexologist and writer knew that it wouldn't be long before he 
was breathing so hard and so fast that he would sound and feel as if he were 
purposefully attempting to hyperventilate himself. 

The well-hung ethnic-sexual researcher could already feel his entire body 
becoming slick with sweat. 

The intensely attractive young white man knew that this was the steamy 
perspiration of sexual excitement that was oozing from each and every pore 
on his body. 

Yvonne could feel her heartbeat being affected by the intensity of her 
unexpected passion. Her heart was racing. 

Yvonne Craig could tell that soon her heart was going to feel ready to beat 
right out of her chest. 

The pretty neighborhood hooker could feel her breathing being affected by 
her lust, just like Christopher's. 

The super-horny black girl could feel her breathing becoming ragged, as if 
she had suddenly been afflicted with a severe case of asthma or something. 

The passionate Negro girl had her legs spread open as far as she could get 
them. She could feel the muscles at the insides of her thighs stretching 
taut. 

The passionate Negro girl had the balls and soles of her feet flat on the 
hotel room bedspread. Her knees were up in the air, and she had her thighs 
parted first to a perfect ninety-degree angle, and then past a right angle 
to an obtuse angle. 

The ebony-skinned professional unsuccessfully attempted to open her finely 
tapered thighs to a straight angle-so that she could point her knees at 
opposite walls of the hotel room. Still, the hooker managed to get her 
thighs so far open that her pussy lips and the cheeks of her ass had opened 
with them. 

Christopher Adamms' latest lover squeezed at the sides of Christopher 
Adamms' masculinely narrow hips with the insides of her womanly black thighs 
snugly. 

***** 

The handsome sexologist and writer then adjusted the lower part of her 
torso, moving his hips back about three inches. 

The well-hung ethnic-sexual researcher wanted the shaft of his cock at the 
appropriate angle for deep-vaginal penetration. 

The intensely attractive young white man then tensed the muscles in the 
cheeks of his ass, and he pressed his smallish buttocks together as tightly 
as they would go. 

Christopher had his as cheeks hardened as he tensed the muscles in them. 
They were as hard as his cock. 

Yvonne Craig ran her hands for a moment over Christopher Adamms' tensed ass 
cheeks. She was thrilled with how firm they had become. 

Yvonne Craig could tell that Christopher Adamms had pressed his ass cheeks 
together so tightly that the world's strongest man would not have been able 
to pry them apart even if he were allowed to use a crow bar. 

"Give it to me," the pretty black hooker exclaimed. 

"Here we go. You want to be fucked softly?" Christopher asked. "No." 

"You want to be fucked hard?" Christopher inquired. "Yes." 

"Do you want to be fucked slowly?" Christopher asked. "No." 

"Do you want to be fucked fast?" Christopher asked. 

"Yes. I want to be fucked as fast as you can fuck." 

"Okay." 

"I want you to fuck me so fast that your ass cheeks will be a blur." 

"You got it." 

With that Christopher began to push downward with his lower torso, with the 
tensed muscles in the cheeks of his ass. 

Yvonne Craig concentrated on relaxing the muscles at the sides of her 
pussy-keeping in mind that her cunt lips were going to have to open as far 
as they could go to accommodate the girth of his dick. 

The pretty neighborhood hooker found that this was remarkably easy for her 
to do. Yvonne's pussy relaxed itself. She had not been very tense in the 
first place. 

Yvonne began to push upward with her own lower torso, so that their loins 
were pushing toward one another. 

Christopher Adamms and Yvonne Craig knew that they were not going to stop 
pushing until their loins met. 

Only a couple of seconds passed between the time when he started pushing and 
the time when she began to open. 

"Stretch me! Turn my cunt into a gaping mouth, Christopher!" 

"Ooooooooooh, your pussy-your pussy is so tight!" 

"I can feel my cunt lips stretching, they are taut!" 

"Ooooooooooh, I can feel my cock head pushing inside you." 

Yvonne Craig's cunt felt as if it had been opened as far as it could go. Her 
pussy lips felt like a rubber band that had been stretched to the snapping 
point. Even in retrospect Yvonne Craig believed that her cunt would have 
torn wide open if his prick had been a millimeter or two greater in girth. 

The pretty neighborhood hooker could feel her inner cunt lips gripping at 
the ring of scar tissue at the top of his cock shaft, just below the lower 
rim of Christopher Adamms' bulbous purple cock head. 

The super-horny black girl could feel the tip of his cock pushing into her a 
fraction of an inch at a time. This was partially out of necessity because 
of the girth of his prick. She could tell that Christopher was afraid of 
hurting her, as he had no doubt hurt so many other woman by entering their 
cunts too quickly. 

Still, each fraction of an inch of penetration brought the Negro woman's 
cervix closer to his glans. 

Each millimeter of penetration brought the tip of Christopher Adamms' pecker 
closer to the mouth of her womb. 

Yvonne Craig could tell, in spite of all of this, that Christopher was 
entering her more slowly than he had to . 

The pretty neighborhood hooker correctly assumed that the man wanted to make 
his own pleasure linger, and the only way he could do that was do everything 
slowly. 

The super-horny black girl could tell that the second she felt a sudden 
quickening of Christopher Adamms' movements, his orgasm was not going to be 
far behind. 

The passionate Negro girl then felt the tip of his cock strike the magic 
focal point of her deep-vaginal cravings. 

"OHHHHHHHH!" Yvonne Craig yelled. Her voice was shrill. 

"Ummmmmmmmm, did I touch that special nerve?" he asked. 

"I can feel you scratching the magic itch," she said. 

"And where is that magic itch?" Christopher asked. 

"It feels like it is behind my bellybutton," she said. 

"I see," Christopher said with an amused smile on his lips. 

Yvonne could feel the tip of Christopher Adamms' cock touching the rear wall 
of her inner cunt. 

This sensation was both a little thrilling and a little frightening for the 
young ebony-skinned streetwalker. 

She could feel her pussy being filled to the brim with cock meat-just as she 
hoped it would. Her pussy felt like it already was stretched as far as it 
could go in every possible direction. 

The thing that was frightening Yvonne Craig was that she knew there were 
still several inches of cock meat at the base of Christopher Adamms' cock 
shaft remaining to be inserted. She felt as if the tip of Christopher's cock 
were about to touch her in places where she had never been touched before. 
Yvonne Craig felt as if Christopher Adamms' cock were about to touch her in 
places that she did not even know she had-places the streetwalker would have 
sworn up and down could not be reached from the outside unless she had felt 
that direct contact for herself. 

Christopher huffed and puffed and pushed until he had done it, until the 
penetration of the hooker's Negro cunt was complete, until her inner cunt 
lips had the honor of gripping his cock meat at the base. She could feel his 
balls resting on her ass-hole. She was squeezing a little bit tighter than 
before at the sides of his masculinely narrow hips with the insides of her 
thighs. 

***** 

Yvonne Craig expected Christopher to start his natural in and out fucking 
motion immediately, once the violation of her fuck hole had been completed. 

But Christopher Adamms had other ideas on the subject. 

The handsome sexologist and writer continued to press downward with his 
lower torso in spite of the fact that his cock was already all the way 
inside her. 

This created the illusion within Yvonne Craig's pussy, indeed within her 
entire nervous-system, that his cock head was sinking even deeper into the 
soft internal tissues of the Negro prostitute's underbelly. 

The black girl lifted her feet right up off the bedspread. She pointed her 
toes at the hotel ceiling. 

The Negro hooker never loosened her grip on the sides of Christopher Adamms' 
hips with her thighs as she did this. 

The ebony-skinned prostitute straightened her knees and created a perfect 
"vee" with her shapely gams. 

The black-skinned streetwalker then turned her toes inward. 

She crossed her ankles. 

She lowered her heels-which Christopher Adamms noticed were much lighter 
than the tops of her feet-down to the small of his back. Yvonne Craig placed 
her rather rough ankles at the small of the white man's back, just above the 
y-shaped cleft at the top of the crack of his ass, almost directly on top of 
the cute little twin dimples that indicated the location of Christopher 
Adamms' kidneys. 

"Please," Yvonne Craig said, in a very low, soft voice. 

"What?" Christopher Adamms asked, lowering his head. 

"Ohhhhhhhh, please," Yvonne Craig repeated, in a whisper. 

"Please what?" Christopher said, his lips close to her ear. 

"Please FUCK ME!" Yvonne Craig said. She was begging him for it. 

"Okay, baby, in just a second," Christopher exclaimed. 

"You are such a motherfucking tease!" Yvonne Craig said. 

"You got it, baby," Christopher Adamms said with a laugh. 

"I am on the edge of coming and you haven't even started fucking yet," 
Yvonne Craig said, her voice shrill. 

"Easy, baby, easy does it, that's the ticket," he said. 

He began to gyrate his hips, grinding his pubic patch flat against hers. The 
coloring was in direct contrast. 

He was fair. 

She was black. 

He was ivory. 

She was ebony. 

His pubies were the color of gold. Hers, were the color of tar. 

He moved his lower torso in slow sensuous circles, so that the head and the 
shaft of his humongous meat loaf stretched the black hooker's inner cunt 
lips and the inner walls of her pussy in every possible direction. Then, 
after what seemed to the Negro girl like an eternity, Christopher began to 
pull upward with his ass cheeks, which were every bit as tensed as they had 
been when he was penetrating her. To the black hooker's dismay, Christopher 
pulled upward with his lower torso every bit as slowly as he had originally 
violated her. The Negro prostitute could feel her inner cunt lips being 
stretched up and away from the rest of her female crotch. The flesh was 
tugging taut. She could tell that the shaft of Christopher's cock was so 
thick that the top of that fleshy stalk was going to rub directly against 
her little man in the boat when he got around to fucking her proper. 

Yvonne Craig could tell that it would not be very long at all before 
Christopher Adamms' cock shaft was battering her little man in the boat back 
and forth violently-just as if it were a small punching bag being worked 
over rhythmically by a particularly talented boxer during a vigorous 
work-out. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Christopher pulled up with his lower torso until just the very tip of his 
cock remained inside Yvonne's cunt. 

He then paused and took a deep breath. Yvonne thought he was going to ease 
his cock into her again. 

Wrong. 

Christopher slammed down with his lower hips a second time, this time as 
hard as he possibly could. 

Christopher Adamms slammed the entire length of his cock into the black 
girl's cunt in one fell swoop. 

Yvonne Craig could hear her cunt making a loud wet farting noise as he 
violated her pussy violently. 

The handsome sexologist and writer moaned as he felt the tip of his dick 
sink into the prostitute's tummy. 

The farting sound from Yvonne Craig's poon-tang came from displaced gas and 
juice inside the passageway. 

The Negro hooker could feel her eyes opening so wide that the whites were 
visible all the way around her irises. 

The black-skinned streetwalker could feel a great pressure behind her eyes. 
They bulged. They bugged outward. 

There was a frightening moment or two when Yvonne Craig thought her eyeballs 
would come popping out. 

Right out of her head. Right out of their bone sockets. Obviously, her fears 
were completely unfounded. 

In retrospect, the Negro prostitute realized that she was more stunned than 
injured by the penetration. 

She realized that she had simply forgotten how quickly a stiff pecker could 
sink inside her poontang. 

Yvonne Craig had forgotten that her cunt could go from completely empty to 
completely full with that kind of rapidity. 

The black girl could feel the head of Christopher's cock smacking the mouth 
of her womb once again. 

This time the Negro hooker could feel a massive and mammoth thunderbolt of 
pleasure with that contact. 

The second Christopher Adamms' tool of masculinity touched her cervix she 
jerked with enjoyment. 

Yvonne Craig could feel the lightning bolt of feminine sexual joy rushing 
from her pussy up her backbone. 

The pretty neighborhood hooker could feel that pleasure rising and rising, 
getting ever-closer to her head. 

The super-horny black girl could feel the pleasure getting up all the way to 
the base of her skull. 

The passionate Negro girl could feel the pleasure pausing there-at the nape 
of her slender neck. 

The ebony-skinned professional could feel the pleasure then repeating all 
the way back down her spine. 

Christopher Adamms' latest lover felt the pleasure pulling up short-instead 
of exploding into her brain. 

Only the pleasure of a feminine climax would explode into the gray matter of 
Yvonne Craig's brain. 

The pretty neighborhood hooker could tell that Christopher Adamms was not 
going to have to fuck her for long to give her the ultimate pleasure of 
orgasm. 

The only question in the black girl's mind at that moment was how many times 
Christopher would make her come. 

The super-horny black girl was fairly sure that he was going to make her 
come more than once as he fucked. 

The passionate Negro girl figured there was a chance Christopher was going 
to make her come more times than she could possibly count. 

The ebony-skinned professional figured there was a chance that, by fucking 
her pussy, Christopher Adamms was going to teach her what multiple orgasms 
were all about. 

The man began to fuck Yvonne Craig with a smooth steady motion. He used the 
entire length of his cock with each stroke. 

Christopher Adamms always pulled his pecker almost all the way out of her 
pussy before slamming it back inside once again. She farted loudly for the 
first few strokes and then the farting stopped. 

Her cunt began to make a funny sucking sound as he plowed her. Her pussy 
went: Squish-squash. Squish-squash. Squish-squash. 

At first Christopher moved his tensed ass cheeks from side to side almost as 
much as he moved them up and down. 

Christopher Adamms used the tip of his pecker to thoroughly explore the 
nooks and crannies of her inner cunt. 

The avant-garde journalist was surprised to discover that Yvonne's pussy was 
delightfully tight. 

The handsome and muscular sexologist could feel Yvonne inner cunt tightly 
gripping the shaft of his cock. 

The blonde and blue-eyed writer could feel his dick getting tugged at the 
root each time he withdrew. 

Christopher could feel the temperature of his come inside his scrotal sack 
steadily increasing. He could feel his semen approaching the boiling point. 

Christopher Adamms rode Yvonne's pussy high as he fucked in and out, so that 
the top of his cock shaft would give maximum direct stimulation to the 
hooker's clit. 

The avant-garde journalist used his cock shaft to make her clitoral foreskin 
slide back and forth across her little man in the boat. Yvonne Craig's clit 
felt more than ever like it was going to pop out of her gash. 

Yvonne Craig draped her arms across Christopher's back and began to scratch 
at him with the tips of her long fingernails. She scratched up and down his 
back on either side of his backbone. 

She then clutched at the muscles between his amazingly broad shoulder blades 
with the fleshy part of her fingertips. 

Yvonne Craig still had her shapely gams wrapped tightly around Christopher 
Adamms' lower body, her hells on the small of his back. 

In this manner the Negro hooker was clutching at her latest customer with 
all four of her limbs together. 

Christopher loved the way her strong thighs felt against the sides of his 
hips. The avant-garde journalist started out fucking Yvonne Craig slowly and 
gently, which wasn't what he had told her he would do at all. 

Still, Christopher did steadily increase the pressure and the tempo of his 
in and out fucking movements as he went along. 

Yvonne could feel all of the muscles in her body tensing up on her 
involuntarily because of the acute nature of her pleasure. 

Yvonne Craig could feel her pleasure rising a little bit closer to the 
saturation point with each of Christopher's thrusts. 

Then all of her muscles tensed. 

Her breathing all but stopped. 

Her heart skipped a beat or two. 

He rammed into her very hard. 

She felt her inner cunt exploding! 

"OHHHHHHHHH! YOU ARE MAKING ME COME, CHRISTOPHER, CHRISTOPHER, CHRISTOPHER! 
YOU'RE MAKING ME COME INSIDE MY CUNT, YOU ARE MAKING ME COME SO FUCKING 
HARD, YOU ARE MAKING ME COME SO MOTHERFUCKING HARD-SO MOTHERFUCKING HARD!" 
Yvonne screamed. 

Her facial features were contorting. 

Her face felt hot and flushed. 

She tossed her head from side to side. 

She bucked upward with her round hips. 

Their loins were slapping hard together. 

***** 

Their bodies were both wet with perspiration. 

Yvonne Craig was shivering violently, looking for all the world as if she 
were attempting to shudder herself right out of her shiny black skin. 

Her complexion was about as dark as a human being's complexion can get. 
There was very little cream in the coffee of Yvonne Craig's family tree, you 
see. 

The pretty little Negro hooker could feel the pleasure of her orgasm 
shooting outward from her pussy. 

She could feel the pleasure once again shooting up her spine toward the base 
of her round little skull. 

But this time that pleasure did not stop at the base of her skull. The 
pleasure did not even pause there. 

The beautiful black prostitute could feel the pleasure exploding into the 
gray matter of her brain. 

The ebony-skinned streetwalker could feel the pleasure becoming more 
ecstatic than she would have thought possible. 

Christopher Adamms' latest lover could feel her brain reeling with the 
intensity of her orgasmic pleasure. 

The come was short and sharp. Christopher Adamms' latest lover's tiny toes 
were tightly curled under. 

The super-horny professional fucker was clutching at Christopher Adamms with 
all four limbs more tightly than ever. 

Christopher never stopped fucking, even when u the girl's orgasm was ripping 
through her, running up and down the entire length of her spine. Yvonne 
Craig was snapping upward with her femininely sloped loins each time he 
stabbed down with his big cock. Her movements were filled with the urgency 
of her libido. 

The best thing about the orgasm, Yvonne Craig discovered, was that after it 
was through, it had done nothing to appease her fuck urge. Yvonne discovered 
that she wanted to have her pussy fucked even more after her come than she 
had before. 

She was not appeased. 

She was not satisfied. 

Her deep-vaginal come had enhanced her horniness rather than stifled it. She 
knew that this was not the last of her orgasmic enjoyment. Yvonne Craig knew 
that there was a hell of a lot more pleasure where that came from. 

There was no doubt in her mind that Christopher Adamms was going to make her 
come more than once with this fantastic beef injection he was giving her. 

Christopher Adamms continued to steadily increase the tempo of his fucking 
movements. He was slick with sweat, the steamy perspiration of his sexual 
exertion. 

The avant-garde journalist could feel Yvonne Craig's pussy sucking his cock, 
sucking his come right up out of his scrotal sack into the base of his 
pecker. 

The handsome and muscular sexologist could feel a tickle of manly sexual 
anxiety forming at the base of his dick, on the underside of his cock shaft, 
right where Christopher's prick and balls came together. 

The blonde and blue-eyed writer could tell that this tickle of sexual 
anxiety could do nothing but grow in intensity-as long as his massive tool 
was inside Yvonne Craig's wanton tunnel of professional lust. 

Yvonne could feel her sense of time and space being altered by the intensity 
of her own pleasure. 

Yvonne Craig was only vaguely aware of where she was by this time. Her sweat 
was soaking through the hotel bedspread, and no doubt through the sheets 
below as well. 

It was summer. 

It was hot. 

Humid. 

Sticky. 

The pretty little Negro hooker could feel her sense of time being severely 
elongated by her pleasure. 

Everything, every goddamn thing, felt so good that each second was stretched 
out into a full minute. 

The beautiful black prostitute could feel each minute stretching into sixty 
minutes-a full-fledged hour. 

Christopher Adamms' latest lover knew that her pleasure-and this blissful 
fuck-were going to seem like they were going on forever. The unexpectedly 
passionate neighborhood whore realized that this was one of the most intense 
sexual experiences she had ever had-and that was saying something for a girl 
who had been on the streets picking up men and having her pussy fucked 
fifteen or twenty times a day ever since she was thirteen. 

The super-horny professional fucker felt as if she had been waiting for 
years and years on the sexual launching pad and now-at last-she had blasted 
off. 

The intensely lustful neighborhood prostitute felt as if she were straddling 
the pointy nose-cone of a cigar-shaped rocket-ship. She felt as if she were 
rocketing toward the stratosphere, and still rising. 

Yvonne felt as if she were headed for the depths of outer space. She felt as 
if she ere heading for other solar systems. She felt as if she were headed 
for other galaxies. She felt as if she were about to leave the universe. 

Yvonne Craig felt as if she were headed for another universe-toward another 
dimension. 

The pretty little Negro hooker felt as if she were headed for the fifth 
dimension, a place where time and space had ceased to exist. 

The pretty little Negro hooker felt as if she were heading for a place, a 
place for sensates, where only sensation existed and only the intensity of 
sensation held any import. The second Yvonne Craig's first come was through 
she could feel her libido rapidly rising toward the saturation point for a 
second time. 

The pretty little Negro hooker's pussy exploded again and she let another 
shrill cry of pleasure-like a feminine version of a Tarzan call. 

The beautiful black prostitute was pleased to find that her second 
deep-vaginal come was even longer and more intense than her first had been, 
and that was saying something. 

The ebony-skinned streetwalker could tell that her pleasure was continuing 
to mount. She was tossing her head from side to side as if she were 
purposefully attempting to injure her slender neck, as if she were saying 
"no" over and over again. 

But Christopher Adamms was smart enough, and sexually experienced enough, to 
realize that the little girl was saying precisely the opposite with this 
wild tossing of her head. 

She was saying yes. 

Again she began to scream. 

***** 

"YOU ARE MAKING ME COME! YOU ARE MAKING ME COME AGAIN! CHRISTOPHER! 
CHRISTOPHER! CHRISTOPHER! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW GOOD YOU 
ARE MAKING ME FEEL! I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW HOT YOU ARE MAKING ME FEEL! IT'S 
UNBELIEVABLE! UNBELIEVABLE, CHRISTOPHER!" 

Christopher Adamms could tell that the tickle of masculine sexual anxiety 
that was forming at the underside of the base of his cock was going to do 
nothing but grow. It was going to grow until it was no longer a tickle at 
all. 

It was going to grow until it was a comet-like fireball of liquid anxiety. 
It would be then that Christopher would know his sexual arousal had reached 
the saturation point. Christopher Adamms then would know that his libido had 
reached the point of no return. The avant-garde journalist would then know 
that he had reached the point of orgasmic inevitability. 

"MY SECOND COME, MY SECOND COME, MY SECOND COME, MY SECOND COME IS EVEN MORE 
INTENSE THAN MY FIRST!" she screamed. 

Yvonne's back teeth were clenched together very tightly. She was grinding 
her rear molars away in this manner. 

Yvonne Craig's back teeth were clenched together so tightly that the muscles 
at the sides of her face were protruding. 

The pretty little Negro hooker's teeth were clenched so tightly that her jaw 
was beginning to ache. 

The beautiful black prostitute hardly paid any attention, however, to the 
discomfort in her lower face. 

The ebony-skinned streetwalker thought this slight discomfort in her lower 
jaw was all but insignificant, next to nothing, compared to the roaring 
pleasure she was experiencing down inside her Negro cunt. 

Christopher Adamms' latest lover could feel her inner lips being pushed and 
pulled, pushed and pulled, pushed and pulled, by the girth of Christopher's 
constantly working ram-rod of hard beef. 

Their wet loins were slapping together hard, beating out the rhythm of the 
blissful hump. Christopher Adamms' latest lover could feel bolts of 
lightning going directly from her cunt into her brain. Her libido had taken 
control of her willpower. 

She could see bright flashes of light on the insides of her tightly closed 
eyelids. Her eyelashes were crushed desperately against her high cheekbones. 
Her usually smooth forehead was deeply creased with the tension of her acute 
sexual pleasure. 

The super-horny professional fucker could feel crinkles forming across the 
bridge of her nose as it pushed upward on her face. Her facial features 
looked as if they were trying to cluster at the center. 

The intensely lustful neighborhood prostitute's lips were stretched back 
across her front teeth, so that her facial expression had contorted itself 
into a perfect cross between a smile and a grimace. 

Not long after her second come was through, Yvonne exploded into her third 
come-and still she was not satisfied. 

"FASTER!" 

The prostitute stopped counting her comes after the third one. Numbers were 
no longer important to her. She was in the land of the sen-sates, and she 
felt as if she were going to stay there. Now more than ever only the 
intensity of her sensations mattered. 

In retrospect, Yvonne Craig realized that she probably would not have been 
able to count all of her orgasms even if she had been in the mood to try. 

Her comes were snapping off inside her loins at a frightening rate. There 
were snapping off closer and closer to one another-so that it was 
increasingly difficult for Yvonne Craig to tell them apart. 

"HARDER!" 

Christopher fucked harder. 

Yvonne Craig could feel her comes running into one another so that the final 
convulsion of one come seemed to coincide with the initial spasm of the 
following come. Her orgasms were becoming all but indistinguishable in the 
reeling gray matter of her brain. She could feel the earth moving. She could 
feel the bombs bursting in air. 

"FUCK ME FASTER! FUCK ME HARDER! CHRISTOPHER! CHRISTOPHER! CHRISTOPHER! I 
CANNOT STOP COMING! OHHHHHHHH! OWWWWWWW! 

OOOOOOOH! I CANNOT STOP COMING. YOU ARE MAKING ME CRAZY-YOU ARE MAKING ME 
CRAZY WITH PLEASURE!" Yvonne Craig screamed loudly. 

The black girl felt more like she was having no continuous never-ending 
come, rather than a bunch of shorter orgasms all strung closely together, 
which happened to be the actual case. 

The pretty little Negro hooker could tell that there was no way her pleasure 
was going to stop-there was no way her pleasure was going to stop 
mounting-until Christopher Adamms ended the blissful sex act with the 
spilling of his seed deep inside her tunnel of lust, way up inside her soft 
underbelly, well up past the mouth of her womb. 

The beautiful black prostitute thought she was going to pass out from too 
much pleasure. Then she realized that she was being ridiculous. The 
ebony-skinned streetwalker realized that there was no such thing as too much 
pleasure. 

The ebony-skinned streetwalker could tell that Christopher was not going to 
be able to fuck her for much longer. She could tell by the gurgling noises 
Christopher Adamms was making in his gullet that he was getting ready for 
the big finale, for his own ecstatic orgasm. 

***** 

Christopher Adamms' latest lover could hear Christopher's sounds of pleasure 
steadily rising in pitch and volume. 

She could hear him moaning and groaning with pleasure with each and every 
one of his rapid exhales. 

The super-horny professional fucker could tell that his cries of joy were 
rising because of the tenseness in the muscles of his neck. 

The intensely lustful neighborhood prostitute knew that those tensed muscles 
were squeezing at Christopher Adamms' voice box, thus altering the product 
of his ecstatic exclamations. 

The avant-garde journalist could tell that he was not going to be able to 
fuck the black girl for much longer. 

This was a great disappointment for Christopher Adamms. The handsome and 
muscular sexologist wanted the fuck to go on forever. The blonde and 
blue-eyed writer never wanted to leave this room. He knew that it wouldn't 
make any difference if he tried to distract his libido by thinning about 
other things. Christopher Adamms knew that he was going to come no matter 
how much time he tried thinking about baseball. 

Sensing that the end was near, that they were in the homestretch of the 
fuck, Christopher shifted his hips into high gear. 

Into overdrive. 

He began to fuck Yvonne Craig as hard and fast as he could. 

The sounds that her pussy was making were louder than before. 

Squish-squash. 

Squish-squash. 

Squish-squash! 

He fucked with everything he had. Christopher fucked with reckless abandon. 
He fucked her so hard and so fast that his ass cheeks really were a blur to 
the naked eye. 

Then he rammed the entire length of his cock into her pussy-and this time he 
kept it inside there. 

Yvonne Craig could feel his cock getting a little bit thicker than before as 
even more blood that previously pumped into the shaft of his pecker. Yvonne 
Craig would not have thought it possible unless she had felt it for herself. 
The pretty little Negro hooker could feel his cock getting a little bit 
longer-and a little bit harder. She could feel him becoming more urgently 
erect. With this additional growth, Yvonne Craig found that her inner cunt 
lips and the inner walls of her pussy had to stretch even more than before 
to accommodate the bulk of his tool. 

Yvonne Craig could feel herself snapping off her final come of the fuck at 
precisely thaT moment. 

It was her umpteenth come of the hump. She was thrilled to discover that her 
last one was her best one. 

The black hooker could tell immediately that her final orgasm of the fuck 
was by far her longest and-most intense. 

She knew why that as too. 

It was because they were coming together. 

They were orgasming simultaneously. 

They were feeding off each other's pleasure. 

All of the muscles in Christopher's body tensed. Christopher Adamms began to 
shiver. The avant-garde journalist arched his back and lifted his head in 
the air. The handsome and muscular sexologist could feel his own facial 
features contorting. Indeed, his handsome facial features contorted so 
severely with his bliss that he did not even look like himself very much 
anymore. 

His face was hot. 

His face was as red as a beet. 

His come was boiling inside his scrotum. His silver seed swam anxiously 
around his swollen nuts, trying to get the hell out of there. His cock began 
to spasm. His piss hole opened until it was gaping. 

His volcano erupted. 

His molten lava flowed. 

He filled her cunt with jism. 

They sang together with their pleasure. Christopher Adamms and Yvonne Craig 
sang a duet in homage to the extraordinary pleasure they were sharing. 

Yvonne Craig, being a bit of a romantic, thought there was only one come 
occurring in that hotel room. 

Not hers. 

Not his. 

Theirs. 

They were sharing its pleasure equally. 

Then the moment of passion was through and Christopher collapsed on top of 
Yvonne Craig so that her tits were once again flattened against his chest. 

They could both feel the absolute ecstasy of their combined orgasms fading 
into a new sensation. Yvonne Craig felt as if she and Christopher were 
sharing the same post-orgasmic afterglow. 

They moaned. 

Hugged tightly. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Yvonne could feel Christopher's cock losing some of its urgent rigidity 
almost immediately-thus offering her cunt lips and her inner pussy walls 
their first chance to relax in what felt to her like ages. 

They caught their breath together. Their chests were heaving on one another. 
After collapsing on top of her, following the end of his orgasm, Christopher 
lifted his upper torso once again so that his chest hairs were tickling the 
feminine erections at the tips of her tits. 

They listened to their heartbeats slow together. 

They felt their steamy perspiration cool together. 

Christopher left his cock inside her pussy for a long time and wiggled it 
around even as it deflated, even as the hot blood of his masculine arousal 
pumped back out of his cock head and cock stalk. 

Christopher Adamms was already only semi-erect, and he could tell that his 
pecker was well in its way toward full flaccidity inside Yvonne's poontang. 

The tall and handsome writer finally did pull his cock out of the little 
girl's pussy. He rolled over. 

He was on his back. At her side. 

The blonde and muscular journalist's hand rested on the inside of Yvonne 
Craig's thigh. He squeezed her flesh. 

Her skin, Christopher noticed, was hot to the touch. 

Her tits continued to heave up and down on her chest in the most delightful 
fashion as she caught her breath. 

"You know what that was, Christopher?" Yvonne Craig asked. 

"What?" 

"That was one fucking fantastic fuck!" Yvonne said. 

"I agree." 

"At times like this I wish I smoked cigarettes," she said. He laughed. 

"Do you know how many times you made me come?" she asked. "How many?" 

"About a million zillion trillion times," she said. 

"That's a lot." 

"Uh huh! I know you only came once," Yvonne Craig said. "True." 

"It doesn't seem fair somehow," Yvonne said with a sigh. 

"What doesn't?" 

"That I came so often and you only came once," Yvonne said. 

"It is different for guys, don't worry," Christopher said. 

"You seem funny, strange, now that you are appeased." 

"That's because I have a confession to make," he said. 

"Is this REALLY your first time with a hooker?" Yvonne Craig asked. 

"No, that's not it. It has to do with WHY I am here." 

"You ain't a cop, are you, Christopher?" Yvonne asked. 

"No, no, no, nothing like that," Christopher Adamms said. 

"What then?" 

"You don't have the money to pay me, maybe?" she asked. 

"I will pay you, tip you nicely too, I might add." 

"I should learn to get the money up front, I think." 

"I tend to agree with you. You can't trust folks." 

"I trust you," Yvonne Craig said. Christopher sensed her sincerity. 

"Well, I am using you, Yvonne," Christopher said. 

"Using me? Ummmmmmmmm, use me up!" Yvonne exclaimed. 

"You, you are my human guinea pig," Christopher said. 

"What the fuck does that mean?" Yvonne said. She sat up abruptly, her tits 
remaining high up on her chest. 

"It means that I am a writer, a researcher, actually. I am working on a book 
about sex," Christopher said. 

"Wow, tell me about it," Yvonne Craig said, fascinated. 

"It is a scientific analysis of the sex lives of American women, by ethnic 
group. I have just begun my chapter on black girls," Christopher Adamms 
said. 

"Hey, that's great! Are you going to put me in your book?" 

"Oh absolutely! So far my research on black girls has been most pleasant," 
Christopher Adamms said. 

"Do I smell okay, I mean, compared to white girls?" 

"Why do you ask?" 

"A lot of customers complain about my odor, they say I smell funkier than 
white women do," Yvonne Craig said. 

"That's ridiculous. You smell BETTER I think," Christopher said. 

"Thanks." 

"I was hoping you wouldn't mind if I asked you a few questions," Christopher 
said. 

"Ask me anything you like," Yvonne Craig said eagerly. 

"I will pay you for your time, of course," Christopher said. 

"I appreciate it. I ain't rich, you know," Yvonne said. 

"How long have you been a prostitute, Yvonne?" Christopher asked. 

"Ever since I was thirteen years old," Yvonne replied. 

"What made you go into the business?" Christopher asked. "My father." 

"He forced you to go to become a hooker?" Christopher asked. 

"Indirectly. He died and we needed money. It was just me and Mom." 

"What did your mother do?" 

"She became a hooker too, but she died last year too." 

"How?" 

"She caught the illness, withered away to nothing, and then she was gone," 
Yvonne Craig said sadly. 

"I'm sorry." 

"I'll grow out of it," Yvonne Craig said. 

"Do you enjoy sex with your Johns?" Christopher asked. 

"Sure. Always. I always enjoy it. I don't always get off, but it always 
feels good," the black hooker said. 

"How many times do you fuck during the course of an average day?" 

"Twenty-five, thirty times. No, no, no, some of those are blow jobs, maybe a 
third, figure it out," she said. 

Christopher Adamms had fetched a small notebook and was scribbling into it 
with the blunt tip of a pencil. 

He wrote down fifteen to twenty as the answer to the question. 

"I don't think I am an average black girl," Yvonne said. 

"You aren't supposed to be. After I interview many it will all balance out. 
All of the black girls I interview put together will become an average black 
girl," Christopher Adamms said casually. 

"I see. Do you fuck all the girls you interview?" 

"Not always. Sometimes they won't let me," Christopher said. 

"I find that hard to believe," Yvonne Craig exclaimed. 

"There are white girls who are frightened of my prick." 

"Yeah, everyone knows that black guys have big pricks. I guess it only 
figured that black chicks got big cunts." 

"Nature does have a way of working these things out. I was going to ask you 
about black men's cocks, Yvonne." 

"Bigger than white men? Sure. They aren't always better lovers, though." 

"No." 

"Some of them stick it in and squirt. I mean, who the fuck cares how big it 
is if that's all I get." 

"I can see your point," Christopher Adamms responded. 

"Oriental men tend to be littler, and they aren't so great in the sack 
either," Yvonne Craig said. 

"Who are your favorite lovers?" Christopher asked. 

"Writers," Yvonne said. 

"Seriously," Christopher Adamms said with a slight blush. 

"Europeans, I guess. French men. Greeks. Spanish guys. I mean real Spanish 
guys. From Spain. I'm not talking about Puerto Ricans." 

"Do you have things you won't do for a customer?" 

"I only have things my customer can't afford," Yvonne said. 

"Then, what you are saying, is that you will do anything for a price, is 
that it?" Christopher Adamms asked. 

"Right. I won't star in a snuff film though," she said. 

"I don't blame you." 

"And I won't play any games that I can play only once, if you know what I 
mean," the black hooker said. 

"No maiming. I understand. Anything else?" he asked. 

"That's about it. I have been kinky in just about every way." 

"You have been bound for sex?" Christopher asked. 

"Sure." 

"You have had your mouth gagged while being fucked?" 

"I have had my mouth gagged with cock meat while being fucked." 

"Then you do take on more than one man at a time?" 

"Sure. The more the merrier. The bigger the bill, too." 

"What is the most guys you ever took on at once." 

"Three." 

"You took one cock in each of your holes, Yvonne?" 

"That's right. One in my mouth, one in my cunt and one up my hot ass-hole," 
Yvonne Craig said with a sigh. 

"You sound as if that is a pleasant memory," Christopher said. 

"It was. I came like a nuclear bomb!" Yvonne exclaimed. 

"How long have you been a hooker, Yvonne?" he asked. 

"Is that a discreet way of asking me how old I am." 

"Yes." 

"I have been a hooker for eight and a half years." 

"So you are twenty-one," Christopher Adamms commented. 

"Almost twenty-two. Twenty-two in September," she said. 

"Have you ever allowed men to beat you for money?" 

"Yeah, back in the early days I ran into that a lot." 

"Why do you think things have changed?" he asked. 

"I switched neighborhoods. Brooklyn was filled with sickies." 

"Do you have a pimp?" Christopher Adamms inquired. 

"No. That was the problem in Brooklyn. A girl can get away with not having a 
pimp as long as her customers don't know she doesn't have one. They get mean 
once they realize there is no nigger with a knife ready to slit them if they 
mistreat me," she said. 

"That's a horrible comment on human nature, Yvonne." 

"True. But that's the way it is. My experience anyway." 

"Did you enjoy being beaten by these men?" Christopher asked. 

"No way. I have known girls who did like it though." 

"Masochists." 

"That's right. They liked only brutish Johns with tattoos, you know." 

"I see. What sort of things were you beaten with?" 

"Straps, whips, paddles. They were spankings mostly." 

"The blows were limited to the cheeks of your ass?" 

"Usually, but not always. They beat my back. My legs." 

"That is criminal," Christopher Adamms said, sounding shocked. 

"I wasn't in a position to run and get a policeman." 

"I guess not. What sort of whips were used on you?" 

"I'm no expert. Cats of nine tails, riding crops, you name it." 

"Were these men from the neighborhood in Brooklyn?" 

"No, they were rich men who picked me up in limos." 

"Then they would take you out of the neighborhood to mistreat you?" 

"That's right. I got taken up to the Bronx a few times, to a hotel where the 
walls are soundproofed. " 

"So no one would hear your screams of pain?" Christopher asked. 

"That's right. It's a sick world, Christopher," she said. 

"What's the sickest thing that anyone ever did to you?" 

"Other than just beating me up?" Yvonne Craig asked. 

"Besides that," Christopher said, his pencil hovering over his page. 

"Well, there was one guy wanted me to be his toilet." 

"What, exactly, does that mean, Yvonne?" he asked. 

"It means the guy had to take a leak and didn't feel like going to the 
John," Yvonne said, wincing. 

The black hooker couldn't believe that she was sharing her deepest, darkest 
secrets with this man. 

The Negro prostitute feared that she might be falling in love with this 
writer, this Christopher Adamms. 

"So he pissed all over you?" Christopher asked quickly. 

"He pissed in my mouth and made me drink it," she said. 

"I assume that you charged him extra for that," he said. 

"We negotiated a price before I let him empty his bladder." 

"If I may be so bold, how much did you--? " Christopher started to say. 

"Twenty clams," Yvonne Craig said, before he could finish his sentence. 

"Did you enjoy the flavor of the man's urine?" he asked. 

"Hell no. It burned my tongue and my throat and my belly." 

"What happened after you were through drinking his piss?" 

"I crawled on my hands and knees into his bathroom." 

"What did you do once you were in there, Yvonne?" 

"I barfed up the piss into the toilet," Yvonne said. 

"So the piss ended up in the toilet anyway," he said. 

"Yeah, it just got there the hard way," Yvonne replied. 

"What other strange things have happened to you?" 

"I knew a guy who loved to fantasize about nurses." 

"Yes? Tell me about this man?" Christopher asked. 

"He was an older man, almost sixty, I guess," she said. 

"What did this older man like to do to you?" he asked. 

"He took me to his apartment and made me dress like a nurse." 

"In a white starched uniform?" Christopher Adamms asked. 

"That's right. With the little hat pinned on my head and everything. Only I 
wore nothing underneath. " 

"I see." 

"The guy liked to have me give him enemas and then finger out my ass-hole in 
the tub," Yvonne Craig said. 

"That was it?" 

"No, after I was through he would give ME an enema." 

"Did you enjoy having your bowels purged, Yvonne?" 

"Ummmmmmm, yummy! It felt great," Yvonne Craig said. 

"What did he do after he cleaned out your ass?" he asked. 

"He took me Greek-style, right up the poop-chute, fucking me wildly until he 
came inside my bowels!" 

"You sound as if you found it quite an erotic experience." 

"It was. Once he made me come and shit at the same time." 

"He diddled you as he allowed you to release the water?" 

"That's right. He had his ringer on my clitty!" she said. 

"It seems like it would impossible to come and shit together." 

"I thought so too-until it happened to me," she said. 

Christopher's pencil worked furiously across the paper. 

***** 

"Do you consider yourself good at sucking cock?" he asked. 

"Giving skull? Yeah, I am VERY good at it," she said. 

"What do you think the secret to your success is?" 

"I could show you, lover," Yvonne Craig said with a wink. 

"Maybe later. Right now I want you to tell me," he said. 

"I am tender and patient and I know how to suck HARD!" 

"I see." 

"My mouth can be like a human vacuum cleaner," she said. 

"The same could be said of your cunt, sweetheart." 

"Thank you. I have heard my ass-hole sucks too," she said. 

"So that's the secret to giving good blow jobs, sucking hard?" 

"I don't just give run of the mill blow jobs, Christopher." 

"What do you give?" Christopher Adamms inquired quickly. 

"I allow men to fuck my face," the black hooker said. 

"You offer your throat as well as your mouth?" he asked. 

"Right. I have learned to take cocks into my gullet." 

"It sounds like it would hurt a lot," Christopher said. 

"It did, at first, but I trained myself to relax." 

"How did you go about doing that, Yvonne?" he asked. 

"I told myself that I was a sword-swallower," she said. 

"You mean like the ones they have in the circus?" 

"That's right. I found out I could charge extra for throat." 

"That must have helped you relax some," Christopher said. 

"It sure did. Now I enjoy offering my throat," she said. 

"It no longer hurts at all?" Christopher inquired. 

"Not a bit. It feels good," Yvonne Craig said eagerly. "Wow." 

"I love being penetrated by cock meat, no matter which hole is being fucked. 
I have known ever since I was a very little girl that I was going to grow up 
to be the sort of woman who enjoyed being fucked in all three of her holes," 
Yvonne Craig said. 

"The ass-hole too?" 

"ESPECIALLY the ass-hole." 

"How does it feel when you get fucked in the ass?" 

"Great-almost as good as when I get fucked in the cunt." 

"But you orgasm multiply when getting fucked in the cunt." 

"I have multiple orgasms when getting buggered too." 

"How so?" 

"I come inside my ass. I thought all girls did," she said. 

"No, I've never even heard of anal orgasm before." 

"And you call yourself a sex researcher!" she said. 

Christopher laughed. 

"Maybe you are just different from other girls, Yvonne." 

"Maybe I am better!" 

"Maybe it is a trait found only in black women," he said. 

"That could be true. You'll find out before me," she said. 

"We've talked about you being used by sadists-" he said. 

"Yes? I don't think I want to talk more about that." 

"I was going to ask if you have ever had a masochist for a customer." 

"That guy who dressed me like a nurse dug pain," she said. 

"Was there anyone else?" Christopher queried quietly. 

"Sure. A lot of guys feel they need punishment," she said. 

"And you gave them the punishment they desired?" he asked. 

"You bet." 

"For a price?" 

"For a price." 

"You beat them?" 

"Sometimes. I gave a few spankings. I have never used a whip." 

"These men wanted to be spanked with your hand?" he asked. 

"That's right, on their bare asses," Yvonne Craig said. 

"Did they tell you why they desired these spankings?" 

"No, but I figured it out on my own," she replied. 

"What conclusion did you come to?" Christopher asked. 

"These were men who were hung up on their mothers." 

"I see," Christopher Adamms said with a slow nod. 

"They wanted to be treated like small children," she said. 

"Uh huh," Christopher said, writing the whole time. 

"One guy liked me to make him wear diapers," she said. 

"Infantilism!" Christopher Adamms exclaimed enthusiastically. 

"Whatever you want to call it, Christopher," she said. 

"Did they say anything while you spanked these men?" 

"They screamed, MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY! DON'T HIT ME SO HARD! HIT ME HARDER! 
DON'T HIT ME SO HARD! HARDER! It was silly." 

"Do you have any idea what made these men desire this?" 

"I think it had to do with the pressures of adult life." 

"How so?" 

"These men make important decisions every day. They have demanding jobs that 
are leading them on the road to heart-attacks. They yearn for a time when 
they were just bad little boys who were not allowed to make any decisions at 
all for themselves. They yearn for a time when they had NO freedom of 
choice. It is not freedom of choice they want any longer. They have had to 
much of that already. What they are doing is seeking freedom FROM choice." 

"You know what, Yvonne Craig?" Christopher said with a smile. 

"What's that?" Yvonne asked, looking into his blue eyes. 

"I think you are wise beyond your years," he replied. 

She kissed his mouth. They rolled their tongues together. 

Then Yvonne Craig lowered her head into Christopher Adamms' lap. She took 
the head of his cock in her mouth and she began to suck. She could feel his 
cock getting hard again. She fingered his balls and it was music in her ears 
when she heard him moan with his rekindled lust. 

The more she moved her lips on the cock, the harder it got. 

And the harder his cock got, The more Christopher moaned with his rapidly 
mounting pleasure. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Christopher wanted to stay with Yvonne for weeks and let her suck off his 
cock about once every fifteen minutes. 

Yvonne Craig took his cock right down into her throat-proving to him that 
she was no bullshit-artist. 

Yvonne wanted to prove that she could do the things she had told the 
ethnic-sexual researcher she could. 

By the time Christopher shot his seed in Yvonne's mouth, he was convinced 
his interview was valid. 

The information was useful, and would turn into some very revealing 
statistics, Christopher Adamms figured. 

Ahhh, but Christopher had to go. He could not stay with Yvonne any longer. 
For one thing, he couldn't afford it. 

He had to keep his research project in mind. He couldn't allow himself to 
think aboutwell-himself. 

He had to think about his work. He paid Yvonne for both the straight fuck 
and the blow job-with a tip for her throat, the interview, and overall 
skill. 

"You are going to come back and pick me up again?" 

"Sure." 

Christopher had found her hitching a ride under the Thirtieth Street 
elevated in Astoria. After Christopher and Yvonne left the Hotel Backstreet 
II, they went to his car and he dropped her off where he had found her. 

He wanted to come back and see her. She was great. But he had to move on. 
Christopher Adamms vowed to himself that he would return and fuck Yvonne 
again after his research had been completed. 

Somehow, he knew that it would never happen. His research would not be done 
for some time, and he doubted if girls like Yvonne Craig stayed in one place 
for very long. He knew that girls like Yvonne Craig sometimes did not live 
to be very old. 

***** 

Christopher went home and wrote out his notes longhand before typing them 
out. He then showered, dressed and headed out for more research. He was 
feeling very horny. 

As usual, he was beginning his ethnic research with the smarmier side of the 
sample. As always, he was going to save the least sexually active girls for 
last. 

He drove to the east side of Brooklyn Heights, where the old Heights met 
Fort Greene. There he found a bar called the Flamingo Tavern. The front 
windows had been painted over with a crude painting of a scantily clad 
female. The neon sign above the blue-lit doorway said, "GIRLS'. GIRLS! 
GIRLS!" 

Christopher Adamms could tell that he was in the right place. 

He could hear music blasting out of the strip joint from the jukebox, the 
second he stepped out of his car in the parking lot out back. 

The music called out to him: "Help me, Rhonda, help, help me, Rhonda, help 
me, Rhonda, help, help me, Rhonda-HELP ME RHONDA YEAH! GET HER OUT OF MY 
HEART!" 

There was no cover at the door. But the beers, which came in eight ounce 
bottles, cost three-fifty apiece. 

Clip joint. 

Typical. 

At one end of the bar was an elevated platform, a stage, where a girl in 
nothing but a g-string was gyrating to the music. 

"I'VE GOT TO GO MAKE IT HAPPEN! TAKE THE WORLD IN A LOVE EMBRACE!" 

Christopher Adamms bought a beer at the bar from the cute little blonde in 
leotards, tipped her a quarter, and settled in to watch the show. Good. A 
Negro. 

Within five minutes Christopher Adamms was hopelessly in love with the 
ail-but naked girl on the stage. 

"BORN TO BE WILD! BORN TO BE WILD! BORN TO BE WILD!" 

Christopher managed to pull his eyes off the dancer long enough to check out 
the scene. Naturally enough, there were no female customers, only female 
employees. 

He could see that two dancers were sitting at the bar waiting their turn on 
stage, while a third issued men in and out of the ladies room, which 
obviously served as her office. 

"PUSH! PUSH! PUSH IN THE BUSH! PUSH! PUSH! IN THE BUSH!" 

Christopher could feel himself getting a hard-on. This was another 
professional scene. Christopher Adamms did not want to bias his sample with 
hookers. 

But he couldn't leave. 

Christopher Adamms managed to make eye contact with the girl on the stage. 
She winked at him. He winked back. 

She was tiny. 

Yet her body was superb. 

His balls ached. 

Her skin was very black and her Afro hair-do was quite high. Still, 
Christopher Adamms could see that the stripper was barely five feet tall, 
and he correctly assumed that she had never weighed more than one-hundred 
pounds in her entire life. 

When the dancer's stint was through he was pleased as punch when she sat 
down beside him. She sat so close that he could feel the heat radiating from 
her body. 

He could smell the hauntingly beautiful musk oil the dancer had applied 
between both of her ears. Christopher decided that he was going to explain 
who he was right off. 

He was not going to make it with this one under false pretenses as he had 
with Yvonne Craig. This time Christopher Adamms was going to try a different 
approach. 

"Buy you a drink?" 

"Sure." 

"What are you having." 

"June will know." 

"Right. Mind if we drink these in a booth?" he said. 

The dancer's drink cost Christopher five bucks and looked to him like 
straight ginger ale. Clip joint. 

"Let's go. I hope you aren't looking for any extras. I do not do extras. You 
want something talk to Sharon, the girl who's working the girls room." 

"No extras. I want to talk." Christopher Adamms said. 

"You have my undivided attention," the girl said sweetly. 

Christopher Adamms started by telling the girl exactly who he was and why he 
was there. 

"That's quite an impressive line you got there, Mister." 

"No line." 

To prove it Christopher had brought along his most recently published book, 
which was about the movies of Abbott and Costello. Researching his current 
project was a hell of a lot more fun, Christopher thought. 

"Hey, you are on the level, huh?" the girl said. She was impressed. 

Next to being a doctor, being a writer was best for picking up girls. They 
took a survey and proved this to be true. 

"Anyway, I was hoping you and I could have a long talk somewhere, after you 
finish work, so that I can include you in my book," Christopher said. 

"I think that is a great idea. You are just going to ask me questions?" She 
pouted in the cutest manner. 

"I am a new wave journalist. I get involved," he said. 

"Good, you look like you might be fun to get involved with." 

"What's your name?" 

"Annette Hickman." 

"Annette? Pretty name." 

"My old lady was into beach party movies," she said. 

"Where would you like to go?" Christopher Adamms asked. 

"How about my place. I live on Pacific," she said. 

"Perfect." 

"I don't get off work until four, Christopher," she said. "I'll wait." 

"Don't get too drunk-if you know what I mean," she said. 

"I can't-not at these prices," Christopher replied. 

***** 

Annette lived in a studio apartment on Pacific Street, not far from where 
the cross-town thoroughfare crossed Flatbush Avenue, near the Long Island 
Railroad Station. 

Christopher's cock was burning by the time they got there, but he was 
determined to administer the interview first. 

It turned out that Annette Hickman was only nineteen years old, and was 
attending Hunter College during the day. 

She slept when she could, usually taking two three hour naps each 
twenty-four hours, instead of ever getting a full night's rest. 

She had been hired at the Flamingo because of her fine body and her dancing 
skills, in spite of the fact that she refused to prostitute herself in the 
back room like the other dancers. This had been a difficult decision for 
Annette Hickman to make, because the girls who worked extra earned up to 
two-hundred dollars more a week, and she could have used the money. 

But, as it turned out, Annette had morals. She had only "gone all the way" 
with four guys in her whole life, and she got by during her casual dating 
periods by giving the "best blow job this side of the East River." 

***** 

When the interview was over, Christopher put his pencil and his notebook 
away. 

"Now I want to do more personal research," he said. 

"Would you like one of my famous blow jobs and massages." 

"Sure." 

"Let's get naked." 

"Right. I don't want to touch you any place where I shouldn't." 

"You can touch me any place you like. Just keep your cock out of my cunt," 
Annette Hickman said with a smile. 

"Gee, I hope I can remember all of the rules," Christopher said. 

They took off their clothes and Annette Hickman spread a plastic sheet 
across her bed before allowing Christopher to get on it. 

She told him to stretch out on the sheet, which he did without a peep of 
protest. Annette Hickman then poured baby oil all over his back and his 
legs. The pretty little black girl used skilled fingers to massage the oil 
into his muscles. She caressed his buttocks, and then reached in between to 
lightly stroke the base of his balls. His nuts were on fire. 

She ordered him to roll over and massaged his front side, touching 
everything except for his cock and balls. 

She then climbed onto the bed beside him and began to kiss and lick and bite 
at the side of his neck. 

The ebony-skinned stripper used her pearly white and perfectly straight 
teeth to bite lightly at the side of his neck, up and down his jugular vein. 
She parted her lips and stuck out her tongue as far as she could get it. 

The diminutive bar girl flicked the tip of her tongue back and forth across 
his dangling ear-lobe. He could feel her using the point tip of her tongue 
to explore the inner shell of his ear. 

The small yet buxom dancer then pushed a stiffened tongue right up into his 
inner ear canal. He shivered violently and he could feel his entire body 
being covered with a thick layer of gooseflesh. 

He shivered so hard that he looked and felt as if he were trying to get 
right out of his skin. The small yet buxom dancer giggled girlishly at his 
reaction. The shapely and passionate black girl pushed her tongue tip up 
inside his ear as tightly as she could get it, pushing until she could taste 
the bitter flavor of ear wax. 

The curvaceous and large-breasted stripper then showered Christopher Adamms' 
face with tiny peck kisses, making loud smacking noises as she released each 
smooch. 

She kissed his chest, then his belly. She planted one long kiss on his mouth 
and then crawled in between his legs. 

Annette could see that Christopher's cock was fully erect. It had flopped 
onto his belly so that the tip was pointing at his handsome face. Annette 
Hickman could see that his cock was bouncing up and down on his stomach, and 
she couldn't help but think as she looked at his tool of masculinity that it 
looked like it was doing a modern dance at that deliciously sexy moment. She 
got on her belly in between his legs. He raised his knees in the air and 
rolled back onto his as cheeks so that she would more easily be able to get 
at his dangling scrotal sack with her lips and her fingers. 

The pretty little black girl kissed and licked and bit up and down the 
insides of Christopher's thighs, the way from his bent knees to the sides of 
his scrotum. Annette allowed her lips to come within a fraction of an inch 
of his balls without actually touching them. Christopher Adamms could feel a 
little hot moist breath on his aching nuts but that was about it. 

The Negro exotic dancer then parted her lips and once again stuck out her 
tongue as far as she could get it. She stuck out her tongue so far that she 
could feel an uncomfortable tugging at the roots of her taster. She 
concentrated her attention exclusively for a moment or two on making her 
tongue tip as pointy as possible at the tip. 

The ebony-skinned stripper then placed the tip of her tongue directly on the 
underside of Christopher's scrotal sack. She began to flick the tip of her 
tongue back and forth lightly and quickly. The little black girl licked 
tentatively at first. She could hear Christopher Adamms starting to moan 
with his absolute sexual delight. 

The diminutive bar girl's laving became more eager and more enthusiastic as 
she proceeded. She began to lap at his balls with the flat part of her 
tongue. She lifted and lowered his balls with the coated part of her tongue. 
Annette Hickman did not stop licking at Christopher Adamms' balls until the 
entire scrotal sack was wet and shiny with the spittle that spilled from her 
steamy Negro mouth. 

"Suck," he said. 

"Your cock?" 

"My balls." 

"Oooh, I am good at that." 

"You know to suck softly." 

"Of course." 

"You could hurt me if you suck too hard, you know." 

"Don't insult me." 

"I know you are an expert-but they ARE my balls." 

"I will treat them gingerly always, Christopher," she said. "Good." 

***** 

Annette concentrated on making her mouth cottony soft. She concentrated on 
breathing exclusively through her nostrils, which flared accordingly. She 
curled her lips over her teeth so she would not risk inadvertently biting 
his balls as she sucked them. 

Annette Hickman knew that one bite to Christopher's nuts and the WHOLE MOOD 
could be ruined. 

The Negro exotic dancer then wrapped her lips around Christopher Adamms' 
left nut and she began to suck. She did not suck anywhere near as hard as 
she could have. She created a subtle vacuum inside her oral cavity. She 
hollowed her cheeks only slightly. 

She sucked just right as far as Christopher was concerned. 

The Negro exotic dancer kept the tip of her tongue busy at all times so that 
she was licking and sucking at Christopher's swollen nut at the same time. 

The tall and handsome writer began to toss his head from side to side. She 
sucked and licked for a long time before she pulled her mouth away and 
repeated the process with the other nut. 

After sucking at the second swollen testicle for a long time, Christopher 
could feel his jism starting to boil. 

"You can't believe how good that feels," Christopher said. 

Annette giggled. 

"I told you that I was good at this," Annette said. 

"I believe you. I believe you. I believe you," he said. 

"And you know what." 

"What?" 

"The best is yet to come!" Annette said. 

She puckered her lips and blew cool air onto Christopher Adamms' wet and 
swollen nuts. He shivered with delight once again. He ground his back teeth 
together. Christopher was shifting the weight of his lower torso from one 
ass cheek to the other and then back again. 

"You sure do have a big cock!" Annette Hickman exclaimed. 

"Yes, it's probably just as well I don't fuck you." 

"I was thinking of letting you fuck me, actually." 

"But you are so little." 

"My pussy is normal." 

"I have been known to hurt women." 

"My pussy stretches. I have always found it a hell of a lot more elastic 
than I gave it credit for. Those women you hurt were tense-they were 
scared." 

"You're not scared." 

"No way. I think you are swell, Christopher," Annette Hickman said. 

The pretty little black girl turned her left palm upward toward the ceiling 
of her studio apartment. 

She pushed her fingertips under his swollen scrotal sack. She wiggled her 
fingers and juggled his balls in this fashion. She fondled those twin glands 
of manhood lovingly. 

The ebony-skinned stripper bobbed Christopher Adamms' balls up and down on 
the fleshy part of her fingertips, as if she were trying to determine the 
weight of his balls. 

They were heavy. 

Very heavy. 

The ebony-skinned stripper could see that Christopher Adamms' scrotal sack 
was so big that she probably would not be able to hold the entire thing at 
once in the palm of a single hand, no matter how tightly she stretched her 
palm, no matter how far apart she parted her dainty black fingers. 

The diminutive bar girl tried her best to clutch the entire sack, but there 
was no way. Her hand was too little, and Christopher Adamms' balls were too 
big. Some of that scrotal sack drooped over the sides of her hand no matter 
how far she stretched her hand. 

The small yet buxom dancer held what she could, however. 

She clutched as much of the scrotum as was possible, and she began to 
squeeze the sack gingerly and rhythmically-squeezing once for every beat of 
Christopher Adamms' racing heart. In this manner Annette simulated the 
natural throbbing Christopher was experiencing at that deliciously sexy 
moment in his balls. 

Then the little girl pushed her right fingertipswith her palm turned 
upward-in between Christopher Adamms' furry belly and the top of his 
flopping cock shaft. She curled her fingers at the knuckles and formed a 
cradle for his cock. She lifted the head of his dick away from his belly, 
not stopping until his glans was pointed straight upward, at twelve o'clock 
high, at the ceiling of her studio apartment. 

The small yet buxom dancer then made a fist around the shaft of his cock, 
and she found that the pecker was so thick that her fingers did not make it 
all the way around-at least not without the help of her long red 
fingernails. 

She could feel the tips of her fingernails pressing into the heel of her 
palm. She squeezed at his cock and his balls in sync with one another, and 
both in sync with his natural throbbing. 

The shapely and passionate black girl then held the tip of Christopher 
Adamms' cock upright with just the fleshy part of her right fingertips, so 
that she could get at the shaft of his pecker all the way up and down its 
entire length with her bold and curious tongue. 

The shapely and passionate black girl found herself looking at the underside 
of Christopher's cock shaft, and the dilated blue veins that were protruding 
from it. The curvaceous and large-breasted stripper could see that there was 
one vein that was a good deal longer and thicker than any of the others. It 
was the main vein, the vein whose job it was predominantly to get the blood 
up into the head of his pecker. 

She determined right then and there that she was going to allow that longest 
and thickest vein to determine her tongue tip's route from the base of the 
top of Christopher Adamms' pecker stalk. She once again parted her lips and 
allowed her tongue to protrude as far as it would go while keeping it as 
pointy as possible at the tip. She placed the tip of her curious tongue on 
the base of his cock at the underside, where his cock and balls came 
together. 

Although Annette dud not know it, she was touching Christopher Adamms 
precisely where he was feeling he constantly mounting tickle of sexual 
anxiety. 

Annette Hickman began to flick the tip of her tongue back and forth lightly 
and quickly. She lifted her chin and licked her way up that stalk, toward 
the head. She did this patiently. She licked upward only a millimeter or two 
at a time. 

She squeezed Christopher Adamms' balls a little more snugly than before but 
still nowhere near hard enough to risk hurting him. She licked steadily 
upward until she got to the fleshy patch at the top of his cock shaft, just 
below the lower rim of his bulbous purple cock head. 

Christopher's entire body jerked when she licked him there. Annette knew 
that this was a magic spot, where the nerve-endings were clustered densely. 
The spot, which was just below the split in the underside of his cock head, 
the groove that made that glans look to Annette 

Hickman like a ripe plum, was super-erogenous. Indeed, it was one of the 
most sensitive places on the man's entire body. 

Annette Hickman, sensing his acute pleasure, allowed her tongue to linger at 
that magic spot. She then licked upward further, right up onto Christopher's 
cock head. She allowed her tongue to follow the groove on the underside of 
his plum-like cock head until she got to the little swollen lips on either 
side of the handsome man's piss hole. He was moaning and groaning with each 
of his rapid exhales by this time. His exclamations of pleasure were getting 
steadily louder and higher in pitch. The little girl flicked the tip of her 
tongue back and forth across the man's piss hole. Christopher Adamms began 
to bounce up and down on the bed on the cheeks of his ass. He bounced up and 
down so hard that he made Annette Hickman's bedsprings squeak. 

The pretty little black girl rolled the sides of her tongue over the 
stretched skin covering the head of Christopher Adamms' cock, and she was 
pleased to find that this skin felt every bit as smooth on her tingling and 
sexually aroused taste buds as it had looked like it would. She continued to 
lick at him until his entire cock head was covered with her spittle. The 
black girl then licked up and down the entire length of his cock shaft with 
the flat part of her tongue, lapping at his meat pole as if she were still a 
child working over an all-day sucker. 

The Negro exotic dancer then propped herself up on her elbows so that she 
was looking straight down at the tip of his dick. The little girl could see 
the little hole at the tip of Christopher Adamms' cock winking at her. 

She knew that she was going to have to open her mouth as far as she could 
possibly get it to get his cock head in her mouth. The ebony-skinned 
stripper knew that there was a chance that she was going to have to open her 
mouth further than she had ever opened it before-with the possible exception 
of once when she was in the dentist's chair having a cavity in a rear molar 
drilled and filled. 

The diminutive bar girl then relaxed the muscles at the sides of her jaw. 
This was not difficult for her to do. The small yet buxom dancer then worked 
her lower jaw from side to side a little bit to get the kinks out of the 
hinges. The small yet buxom dancer once again concentrated on breathing 
exclusively through her nostrils. The shapely and passionate black girl knew 
that it wouldn't be long before this would be a necessity. After all, her 
mouth was going to be full. 

Full of cock meat. 

She dropped her jaw. 

Her nostrils flared. 

The little girl could feel her jaw dropping so low that it threatened to 
lock painfully in the open position. 

The black girl could feel the skin at the corners of her mouth starting to 
stretch taut. She again concentrated on keeping her lips curled over her 
teeth. She did not want to bite Christopher's cock any more than she had 
wanted to bite his balls earlier. 

Her jaw ached, but she tried not to think about it. She pushed her personal 
discomfort into the back of her head so that she could concentrate her 
attention exclusively on the pleasure she was giving. She pushed her mouth 
over the head of his cock and she began to suck. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Christopher could tell that Annette was not going to have to suck his cock 
for very long to make him come. 

Christopher Adamms could tell this, in spite of the fact that he had already 
gotten his rocks off several times that day. 

The sexual-ethnic researcher was one of those lucky guys who never had to 
worry about his ability to get it up. 

Or off. 

The handsome and muscular writer could feel Annette forming an intense 
vacuum inside her oral cavity. 

The good-looking blonde journalist had his arms stretched out at his sides. 
He was gripping the edge of the bed. 

Annette was amazed that she had been able to get the head of Christopher 
Adamms' cock in her mouth. 

Annette could feel his cock head stretching the corners of her mouth even 
more than they were stretched before. 

Annette Hickman would not have thought this was possible-unless she had felt 
that extra stretching for herself. 

The diminutive exotic dancer made a fist around the base of Christopher 
Adamms' cock shaft and began to pump. 

The large-breasted and small-waisted stripper was jerking off and sucking 
off his cock simultaneously. 

The extraordinarily beautiful black girl could feel her pussy getting wet 
and swollen as she sucked his dick. 

Christopher's latest Negro lover loved the way his cock head felt as it 
throbbed against her lips. 

Her tongue. 

The insides of her cheeks. 

There was nothing cute or subtle about the way she sucked his cock, as there 
had been a few moments earlier while she was sucking Christopher's balls. 

Christopher's human guinea pig managed to keep her teeth off of the head of 
his cock the whole time. 

Both Annette Hickman and Christopher Adamms agreed that this was quite an 
accomplishment all by itself. 

The pretty little black coed was hungry for the taste of Christopher Adamms' 
silver seed. There was a little voice in the back of her head that told her 
Christopher's come was going to be delicious. 

Annette's sixth sense-her feminine intuition, if you will-told her that 
Christopher Adamms' come was going to be some of the most delicious stuff 
she had ever tasted. 

Christopher could feel his come being sucked right up out of his scrotal 
sack into the base of his dick. 

Christopher Adamms could feel his sexual arousal rising closer and closer to 
the saturation point. The sexual-ethnic researcher could feel his horniness 
getting closer and closer to the point of no return. The handsome and 
muscular writer could feel his libido rising closer and closer to the point 
of orgasmic inevitability. 

"Your mouth-your mouth feels so good," Christopher said. 

Annette would have told him that his cock tasted good, except for one thing. 
Annette Hickman had her mouth full. 

"You are going to suck the come right out of me!" 

The little girl loved the way the big man's cock shaft felt as it pulsated 
against her palm and against the insides of her tightly curled fingers. 

"You are making my balls burn. They are burning so bad." 

Christopher could feel many of his muscles tensing up on him involuntarily. 
He was bouncing up and down even more berserkly than before on the tensed 
cheeks of his ass. Annette Hickman discovered that she had to be 
increasingly agile with her head and shoulders to keep Christopher from 
ramming the head of his dick right down her throat. 

Annette Hickman, unlike Yvonne Craig, practically gagged at the thought of 
having a dick forced down into her gullet. 

The large-breasted and small-waisted stripper's head was bobbing up and 
down, up and down, with the movements of the handsome man's narrow lower 
torso. 

"You are making my cock so hard, like STEEL!" he screamed. 

He did not have to tell Annette Hickman this. She could feel how hard his 
cock was, against her mouth and against her right hand. She still clutched 
his balls with her left. 

The extraordinarily beautiful black girl had her lips wrapped around the top 
of Christopher's cock shaft, just below the lower rim of his bulbous cock 
head. 

Christopher's latest Negro lover had her thick lips wrapped around the ring 
of scar tissue at the top of the shaft of his cock-the scar tissue that came 
from the operation Christopher had when he was just a little baby to remove 
his useless foreskin. 

Her lips were locked in place. 

The suction was incredible. 

Annette Hickman was doing magic things to Christopher's balls with her left 
fingertips. He was over twice her size. 

Annette could tell that Christopher stood well over six feet tall. He was 
six feet four inches tall, to be precise. 

Annette Hickman could see that Christopher Adamms weighed well over 
two-hundred pounds to boot. 

This is not to say, or even to imply, that Christopher was obese-or even the 
slightest bit overweight for that matter. 

Christopher did not have an ounce of fat anywhere on his body. The handsome 
man was all muscle. 

Iron-thewed muscle. Annette Hickman could tell that Christopher had to work 
out a great deal to keep himself in such fine shape. 

Annette Hickman would not have been surprised if Christopher had told her 
that he played some football in college. 

He was shaped-and he had the size-like a football player. 

The sexual-ethnic researcher's hair was a very light shade of blonde. He had 
the sort of hair that bleached to a near white hue in the hot summertime 
sunshine. 

His hair was on the long side-drooping over his collar in the back, when he 
was wearing a collar. His hair also fell over the tops of his ears. He had 
his hair parted on the left side and it tended to flop down onto his 
forehead. 

Christopher's eyebrows and eyelashes were every bit as light as the hair 
growing out of his pink scalp. 

Christopher's eyebrow were on the bushy side. They met at the bridge of his 
nose. It occurred to Annette that Christopher actually only had one 
eyebrow-which went all the way across his head. Christopher Adamms' eyes 
were the color of a cloudless summer sky. They were the color of a freshly 
laid robin's egg. His eyes sparkled whenever he was happy, and actually 
darkened when he was feeling blue. His eyes changed color depending on his 
mood-just like those mood rings that were so popular as Christmas presents a 
few years back. 

Christopher had an extremely fair complexion. His kin was made up of perfect 
peaches and cream. He had the sort of skin that burned easily in the summer 
sunshine. Christopher Adamms always had to burn and peel several times 
before the tanning process began. 

Christopher had perfect bone structure. His nose was straight and somewhat 
pointy at the tip. His nostrils were a little on the pinched side but they 
had a tendency to flare wide open whenever he was excited about something. 

Christopher had thick sensuous lips and a strong chin. 

Christopher Adamms' jaw was squared off. The sexual-ethnic researcher had a 
dimple precisely in the center of his chin. The large-breasted and 
small-waisted stripper thought that the dimple made Christopher Adamms look 
like Cary Grant. Or maybe it was Kirk Douglas. It didn't really make any 
difference. The handsome and muscular writer was good looking enough to be a 
movie star out in Hollywood. The extraordinarily beautiful black girl 
thought so, anyway. 

His shoulders were tremendously wide. Christopher's entire upper torso was 
huge, as a matter-of-fact. He had thick slabs of muscle across his chest, 
his shoulders and his back. In spite of the massive girth of Christopher 
Adamms' upper torso, his waist and his hips were surprisingly narrow. 
Annette thought that-from the waist up anyway-Christopher was shaped like a 
triangle with its point down. Annette Hickman could see that his stomach was 
flat. Christopher's human guinea pig could see that there was a big ratio 
between his chest measurement and his waist measurement. Two to one, maybe. 
The pretty little black coed could see, on the other hand, that there was 
hardly any ratio at all between his waist and hip measurements. The 
good-looking blonde journalist's thighs were very thick. Annette Hickman 
knew that she would never get to measure, but she suspected from the moment 
she saw him that just one of his thighs was larger around than her entire 
waist. Of course, Annette Hickman only had a twenty-two inch waist. 

His legs were very long. 

His hands and feet were extremely large-as, Annette knew so well, was 
another all-important part of Christopher's masculine anatomy: his cock and 
balls! 

***** 

The little girl, on the other hand, was so tiny that she seemed a good deal 
younger than she actually was. 

Her face was very pretty and her complexion was a deep coppery black. Her 
hair was spongy and thick. 

Annette Hickman had a flat little nose with broad nostrils. Her mouth was 
not very large either, but her lips were full and sensuous. She had a 
pouting mouth. It had been said, and not at all incorrectly, that Annette 
Hickman was walking through life looking as if he needed to be kissed very 
badly. The little black girl tended to hold her lips parted and slightly 
puckered at all times-although she was only vaguely aware of the prurient 
ideas this put into the minds of men like Christopher. The Negro beauty had 
a sexy habit of running the tip of her tongue back and forth across her 
fleshy lips. Christopher Adamms could tell that it was a habit because she 
did it at times when her lips were already wet. The sexual-ethnic researcher 
could see that Annette Hickman's teeth were perfectly straight and pearly 
white. The large-breasted and small-waisted stripper's teeth had grown in 
this way naturally. She had not had to wear braces when she was in high 
school-which was just about the only thing she had ever done that pleased 
her father. Her cheeks were very smooth and very soft. Her cheekbones were 
high. It was obvious to anyone who looked at her that she had been one of 
those lucky teenagers who had never once suffered from a facial blemish. The 
little girl's eyebrows were plucked neatly so that they were slender and 
femininely angular. Her eyelashes were covered with mascara so that they 
were very long and curled up slightly at their tips. Christopher Adamms 
could see that Annette Hickman's eyelashes were so long that they licked 
lightly at her high cheekbones each and every time she blinked-or winked for 
that matter. Her cheekbones had been slightly rouged. Her eyelids were 
painted blue. Eyeliner accentuated the shape of her eyes. Annette Hickman's 
eyes were shaped like almonds. Her shoulders were narrow. In spite of the 
diminutive size of Annette Hickman's stature, her breasts were 
extraordinarily large. Her tits were so big that they would have been 
considered quite large even if they had grown upon the chest of a much 
larger girl. Her tits were not only big but they were firm. They rested high 
on her chest. They did not sag. Not even a fraction of an inch. It was as if 
her tits had magically developed the ability to defy the law of gravity. 

The little girl's tits were pert. They were perky. They were firm. 

Yet they were supple. 

The little girl's tits were in this condition in spite of the fact that she 
had never worn a bra in her entire life. When she was in her early teens her 
tits had grown so quickly that her mother said there was no point in getting 
Annette a bra. Her mother said that any bra they might have bought for 
Annette was only going to be too small for her by the time they got it home 
from the store anyway. 

Her tits were not only firm but they were perfectly shaped. Her tits were 
rounded at their bottoms and at their sides. The sides of Annette Hickman's 
tits sloped well back toward her waxed underarms. The tops of her tits, 
however, were sloped so that her nipples pointed slightly upward whenever 
she was standing up or sitting up straight. 

She always sat and stood up straight. Annette Hickman's posture was always 
perfect. She walked, or so it had been said, as if he were balancing an 
invisible book on top of her head. Annette Hickman had a very sexy walk. She 
shook her ass from side to side like a pendulum as part of her natural gait. 
It had been said that her lower torso moved like Jell-O on springs. The 
little girl was only vaguely aware of this, but men had been known to cross 
the street or even change the direction in which they were headed all 
together, just to have the honor of walking behind her. Her nipples, like 
her knockers, were very big. The diminutive exotic dancer's nipples were the 
size of silver dollars-such as those used in Atlantic City, New Jersey for 
gambling purposes. Christopher Adamms found that he could not look at 
Annette Hickman's super-erect and throbbing nipples-her cocoa colored 
feminine erections-without thinking just how much they looked like Hershey's 
Kisses with the aluminum foil peeled off already. 

Her belly was flat. 

Her navel was concave. 

Her bellybutton was dimpled. 

Her hips were round. 

Her waist was very narrow. 

In spite of Annette's diminutive stature she had the curves of a real woman. 
She looked like a statuesque woman-only in miniature. Her shape was almost 
that of a perfect hourglass. She had all of her curves in the right places. 
The diminutive exotic dancer was built like a brick shithouse. The 
extraordinarily beautiful black girl was broad where a broad was supposed to 
be broad. Christopher's latest Negro lover had legs that were not long, but 
were femininely shapely. Christopher's human guinea pig's thighs tapered 
perfectly from her round hips down to her unscarred knees. Christopher's 
human guinea pig thought that it was pretty amazing that her knees were as 
unscarred as they were, considering the amount of rime she had spent as a 
child roller skating on cracked sidewalks. Her shins were smooth. The pretty 
little black coed's calves were rounded without being overly muscular. Her 
ankles were trim. Her feet were dainty, both short and narrow. Annette's 
toes were chubby and cute, and all very close to the same length-including 
her two big toes. Annette's toes had a tendency to curl tightly under 
whenever she was feeling excited about something. like sucking cock for 
example. At that moment her tiny toes were making a desperate and futile 
effort to clutch tightly at the balls of her feet. Her fingers were very 
delicate and on the long side-considering her size. Christopher Adamms 
noticed that her knuckles were slightly bony. He could see that her nails 
were perfect, and he correctly assumed that Annette Hickman spent a lot of 
time working on her manicure. She filed her nails carefully so that they 
that were all precisely the same length-and they all had precisely the same 
curve to their tips. He could see that she had her nails painted a deep red 
color that they both thought went very well with her black complexion. Her 
toenails were round and cute. Naturally, Annette Hickman painted her 
toenails at all times so that they matched her fingernails. 

***** 

Christopher Adamms noticed that Annette Hickman had very little body 
hair-even down between her legs. 

The sexual-ethnic researcher could see that the black girl was practically 
bald around her little cunt. 

This enhanced her youthful appearance. Because of this the little black girl 
REALLY looked a hell of a lot younger than she actually was. 

Most girls, Christopher knew better than most, had inverted triangles of 
short and curly pubic hair growing over their pussy slashes. The hair more 
often than not completely covered their mounds. 

Most girls, Christopher knew, had hair growing along the sides of their 
vulvas, partially obscuring their outer cunt lips, and sometimes even 
spreading out onto the insides of their thighs so that they had to shave or 
wax extra in the summertime so they could wear chic swimwear. 

Most girls, Christopher knew, even had hair growing in between the cheeks of 
their asses, especially around their tight ass-holes. 

Annette had none of this. The diminutive exotic dancer merely had two twin 
curls of black hair growing above and to the sides of her clitoral foreskin. 

The hair was downy and soft-and Christopher Adamms could see that it barely 
covered a third of her mound. 

The sexual-ethnic researcher thought that Annette Hickman's tiny pubic patch 
looked like it was shaped like a black heart. He could see that the little 
girl was completely bald along the outermost edges of her pussy. He would 
soon discover that she was equally bald in between the cheeks of her ass. 

Annette Hickman did not even have any hair growing around her ass-hole! 

"YOU ARE GOING TO MAKE ME COME!" Christopher screamed. 

His voice, being higher in pitch than usual because of the tenseness in his 
neck muscles, made Christopher Adamms sound just this side of total 
hysteria. 

"YOU ARE GOING TO MAKE ME COME SO FUCKING HARD!" he screamed. 

The handsome and muscular writer was tossing his head wildly from side to 
side and his face was very red with the flush of his near ecstasy. He was 
breathing very hard. 

"YOU ARE GOING TO MAKE ME SHOOT THE GOO, ANNETTE!" 

The little girl could feel his cock shaft getting a little bit thicker 
against her right palm, and against the insides of her tightly curled 
fingers. 

"YOU ARE GOING TO MAKE MY VOLCANO ERUPT, SWEETHEART!" 

The little girl could feel the head of his cock getting a little bit thicker 
inside her mouth, forcing her jaw to prop open further than before to hold 
it. 

"YOU ARE GOING TO MAKE MY MOLTEN LAVA FLOW, ANNETTE!" 

The little girl could feel even more blood pumping into the head of 
Christopher Adamms' cock and still the damn thing did not blow up. 
Extraordinary! 

"YOU ARE MAKING ME BURN BABY! SO HOT! SO HOT! SO HOT!" 

The large-breasted and small-waisted stripper could feel his cock contract. 
The extraordinarily beautiful black girl could feel his stem spasm. 
Christopher's latest Negro lover could feel his glans convulse. The pretty 
little black coed knew the end was near. Annette tried to ready herself for 
his jism. Annette Hickman could not wait to taste that hump jelly. 

"YOU ARE MAKING MY COME BOIL! I'M GONNA SHOOT IT! OHHHHHHHH! COMING! COMING! 
COMING! COMING! COMING!" 

***** 

The little girl could feel the first squirt of come entering her mouth. That 
squirt of semen was huge. 

It did not take the Negro girl long to figure out that Christopher Adamms 
was going to shoot a hell of a lot more silver seed than she had been 
counting on. 

The little girl found that she had to puff out her cheeks and begin to 
swallow hard and immediately, in a futile attempt to keep all of that fuck 
juice in her mouth. 

She couldn't do it. 

Her efforts were in vain. 

There was too much come. 

Annette Hickman's mouth was too little. 

The little girl could feel the jam oozing from the stretched corners of her 
mouth. The silver seed rolled hotly and thickly down onto her chin where it 
almost immediately began to cool and coagulate into a gelatin with its 
exposure to the fresh air. The little girl managed to keep ninety-five 
percent of the come inside her mouth however, and she and Christopher Adamms 
agreed that this was quite an accomplishment all by itself. She did not take 
long to figure out that the come was a hell of a lot hotter than she had 
been counting on too. The little girl spent a frightening moment or two 
fearing that the inside of her mouth was being scalded by the fuck juice. 
She discovered that she had to wait for the silver seed to cool down inside 
her mouth a little bit before her taste buds could properly register the 
flavor. She was not disappointed. 

Not one iota. 

The come was delicious. 

It tasted fishy. 

Salty. 

Refreshing. 

She couldn't get enough of that stuff. She was determined to keep sucking 
until his orgasm was through. 

Annette Hickman had read, somewhere along the line, that a man's come was 
almost one-hundred percent protein. 

That was very good news as far as she was concerned. 

She had sort of known that man-ome was healthy for her all along. Anything 
that tasted as good as fuck juice HAD to be healthy and good for her, 
Annette figured. 

She found that she liked the texture of Christopher Adamms' fuck juice every 
bit as much as she enjoyed the flavor. She loved the way the come felt as it 
slithered down the entire length of her gullet, heading for the spot of 
warmth and contentment at the pit of her tummy where the come accumulated. 

She thought that the jism felt like raw egg whites as it slithered down her 
throat. Annette Hickman correctly assumed that this texture would have 
grossed her out royally in all but the most prurient context, a moot point 
since she could think of no context more prurient than this. 

Annette found that she had no trouble keeping all of Christopher Adamms' 
come inside her mouth after that first blast. The quantity of come that 
accompanied each of Christopher's spasms diminished rapidly after that first 
squirt. She wanted to suck each and every drop of come out of the man's 
scrotum. She wanted to suck on Christopher's cock and make him come until 
his balls were as dried up as a pair of bones left out to bleach white in 
the sun. 

The little girl sucked even harder at Christopher's cock head, and she 
pumped up and down on the shaft of his cock even harder too, once the man's 
come was in progress. 

There was a warm glow in her belly. 

They were both covered with sweat. 

The sun would be coming up soon. 

It had been a long day for both of them. 

Neither of them felt the slightest tired. 

Christopher could feel his molten lava shooting violently from his erupting 
volcano. He continued to scream. 

Christopher Adamms could tell that his afterglow was going to be as intense 
as his come when all was said and done. 

The sexual-ethnic researcher could feel the pleasure spreading outward from 
his cock and balls. 

The handsome and muscular writer could feel the pleasure spreading into his 
fingertips, and down to his toes. 

The good-looking blonde journalist could feel his entire body jerking with 
his joy. The girl made sloppy sucking sounds with her mouth. 

Annette sucked at his cock until his come was through. She had no trouble 
determining at which point that came either. 

The diminutive exotic dancer could feel all of Christopher's muscles 
relaxing simultaneously as the jism stopped squirting. 

The diminutive exotic dancer could feel the last of his seed oozing onto her 
tongue. She gulped it down hungrily. 

The large-breasted and small-waisted stripper left her mouth on his cock 
head for a time after his come was through. 

The extraordinarily beautiful black girl thought that Christopher's cock 
head felt at home inside her mouth. She stopped sucking. She loosened her 
grip on his cock shaft and on his balls with her right and left hand out of 
respect for Christopher Adamms' temporary but complete sexual appeasement. 
She pulled his cock out of her mouth and licked it clean. 

He then pulled her up to his side and licked his own coagulated come off of 
her chin, a cleansing process which turned, naturally enough, into a soul 
kiss. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

"Tell me more about this book you are writing," Annette said. 

"What would you like to know?" Christopher asked softly. 

They were cuddled together on the bed, her head on his chest. His arm was 
around her shoulders. She was running her fingertips lightly through his 
chest hair. 

"How do you know which girls to interview?" she asked. 

"I don't. I just interview many of them, in the hopes that they will average 
out to be the average girl." 

"I think I might be of some help to you, Christopher. " 

"How's that?" Christopher Adamms asked, kissing her forehead, and then the 
tip of her blunt little nose. 

Her fingers were roaming up and down the inside of her thigh. Then her 
fingers roamed up and down the inside of his thigh. 

"I know LOTS of girls, and I would be glad to introduce you." 

Christopher Adamms' eyes lit up. She might have something there. A whole 
sample of black girls in one fell swoop. It sure would beat cruising the 
streets. 

Annette used the tips of her long red fingernails to lightly stroke at very 
tops of Christopher's thighs, very close to the base of his balls. 

Then the little black girl lightly tickled and scratched at the base of his 
scrotal sack. That got a reaction out of him. 

"Ummmmm, that feels good. I would love to have you introduce me to all of 
your friends. I am doing only black girls though during this stage of my 
research." 

"That's okay. Ninety-nine percent of the girls 

I know are black. It's not that I'm prejudiced or anything like that-it just 
has to do with the neighborhood I grew up in." 

"I understand." 

"When we are through here I'll lend you my little phone book and you can 
copy down some numbers." 

"You can be even more help than that, Annette," he said. "How?" 

"You can call up those girls first," Christopher said. "Why?" 

"You know, to let them know I am on the level," he said. 

"Sure. No sweat. Once I tell them how good looking you are, they are ALL 
going to want to meet you." 

"Well, all right," Christopher said, thinking this was his lucky day. 

"Aren't you going to thank me?" Annette inquired quickly. 

"Thank you." 

"Oh, come on, Christopher! We can do BETTER than that!" 

"What did you have in mind, Annette?" Christopher asked. 

"Well, I went down on you-I thought maybe you would-" 

"Go down on you?" 

"Yes. You aren't one of those guys that thinks real men don't eat pussy are 
you?" Annette asked quickly. 

"Not at all, I would LOVE to go down on you," he said. 

"I can feel my pussy getting hot and bothered just thinking about it." 

"I want to cover your whole body with kisses," he said. 

"Be my guest." 

"I want to kiss you up and down from head to toe." 

"Ummmmmmmm, yes please!" Annette said enthusiastically. 

Christopher rolled the diminutive black girl onto her back. He rolled onto 
his side, his upper torso hovering over her. Annette could feel her nipples 
hardening. 

Her nipples were once again turning into feminine erections at the tips of 
her delicious brown tits. 

Annette's nipples once again looked to Christopher Adamms like Hershey's 
Kisses with the aluminum foil removed. 

Christopher lowered his face over hers slowly. Their mouths were approaching 
one another as if they were moving in slow motion. 

They both closed their eyes. 

They both moistened their lips. 

Both sets of lips were parted. 

Christopher paused when their mouths were less than an inch apart-so close 
that they could feel the beating of each other's hot moist breath on their 
tingling lips. 

Christopher pressed his lips lightly down over Annette's pouting mouth. 

He kissed her gingerly at first, but that did not last for very long. Soon 
he was kissing her quite hard-so hard that she could feel her lips being 
pressed against her front teeth. 

They kissed with their lips exclusively-and this did not last for very long 
either. Just as if the white man and the black girl had rehearsed this oral 
embrace a thousand times in the past, they both offered the tips of their 
tongues at the same time. 

Christopher and Annette touched the tips of their tongues together-and they 
both shivered with the delight they shared. They flicked the tips of their 
tongues back an forth across one another. 

Annette could feel her pussy swelling. She could feel her pussy's tissues 
approaching thorough engorgement. 

Annette could feel her pussy lubricating itself. She could tell that her 
cunt would soon be soaking wet. 

Annette could feel her natural lubrication pooling at the mouth of her 
hungry fuck hole. Getting ready to drool. 

Annette could feel her clitoris swelling into an erection at the top of her 
chocolate colored cunt gash. 

They flicked the tips of their tongues back and forth against one another 
lightly and quickly at first. 

Then they began to roll their tongues together, performing an internal 
swordfight with their battling tasters. 

Christopher and Annette began to thoroughly explore the insides of each 
other's mouths with their tongues. 

They licked at each other's teeth. They licked at each other's gums. They 
licked at the insides of each other's cheeks. 

They sucked each other's tongues. They swapped saliva. 

They quaffed deeply of each other's mouth waters, having a wonderful time. 
Christopher could tell that it was not going to be very long at all before 
his post-orgasmic afterglow was going to wear off. 

Christopher knew that soon his glow was going to be replaced by a new 
sensation-by his rekindled passion. 

Christopher knew that soon the ache was going to return to his balls. Soon, 
he knew, the ache would return to his cock. 

The kiss lasted for a long time and they were both breathless with lust by 
the time they finally pulled their mouths apart. 

Christopher crossed his blue eyes and looked down past his straight white 
nose as he pulled his mouth away from Annette's lips. He could see that 
there were several strings of saliva bridging their mouths. He pulled up 
with his head and shoulders a few more inches. 

Those bridges stretched. 

The strings of spit broke. 

Half of each string fell onto either of their front teeth. 

Christopher moved his mouth to the side of Annette's neck. He kissed and 
licked and bit up and down her jugular vein. He flicked the tip of his 
tongue back and forth across her dangling earlobe. Her tits were heaving up 
and down on her chest as he desperately sucked air into her legs. Her legs 
were stretched out straight toward the foot of her bed. She had her thighs 
parted to a right angle. Her toes were curled under tightly. She could feel 
her pussy starting to drool juice down into the crack of her ass. Soon, she 
knew, she was going to be making a wet spot on the bedspread beneath her 
ass. 

Christopher used his tongue tip to explore 

Annette's ear, inside and out. She shivered violently and there was a moment 
when the entire surface area of her diminutive body was covered with 
gooseflesh. 

Annette had her face turned to one side so that it would be easier for the 
handsome white man to get at the side of her neck and to her ear with his 
lips and his tongue. She then turned her face the other way so that 
Christopher could repeat the process with her other ear-and with the other 
side of her neck. 

He kissed her throat, his mouth working downward toward her bosom. 

"KISS MY TITS! OHHHHHHHH! MY TITS NEED IT SO BAD!" 

The man decided that he was going to kiss and lick exclusively at Annette's 
right breast at first, since that was the closest tit. She moaned as he 
lowered his face to her breast. 

Christopher began to kiss at the tit from the base of the mountain upward, 
starting at the bottom and then spiraling his way upward toward the tip. 
Christopher Adamms arranged his oral caresses so that each little smacking 
kiss was a little bit closer to Annette's nipple than the one before. 

"OHHHHHHHH! YOU ARE MAKING ME FEEL SO HOT!" she said. The white man took his 
time about it, but he finally got his lips and his tongue to the part of her 
that wanted the oral stimulation most of all, her nipple. 

The tall blonde hunk of beefcake lightly placed the tip of his tongue 
directly on Annette's feminine erection. 

The handsome and muscular writer then rolled his tongue around lazily, 
covering that dark brown nipple with spittle. 

The good-looking sex journalist could feel her nipple growing larger and 
harder against his tastebuds. 

"LICK IT! LICK IT! LICK MY NIPPLE! OHHHHHHHH!" she said. 

Christopher began to flick the tip of his tongue back and forth across the 
diminutive stripper's nipple. 

He battered her nipple back and forth. He loved the little moaning and 
gurgling noises Annette was making in her throat. 

Every once in a while Christopher could hear Annette making a purring sound 
inside her sweet gullet. 

Annette's purring sounds sounded remarkably authentic. The little black girl 
sounded just like a real cat. 

Annette sounded so much like a real cat that Christopher found himself 
wondering if maybe she had been a feline in another life-although he did not 
whole-heartedly believe in reincarnation. 

"SUCK IT! SUCK MY NIPPLE!" Annette hollered loudly. 

Christopher could tell that she was screaming so loudly that her neighbors 
could hear. Christopher Adamms correctly assumed that Annette did not give a 
shit whether her neighbors heard her screams of pleasure or not. 

Annette was not the sort of girl who spent a lot of time worrying about her 
reputation. The fact that she had only allowed four different men fuck her 
during the course of her sexual career meant that she had personal morals, 
not that she was worried about her reputation. 

Christopher did as he was instructed. He wrapped his lips around her dark, 
dark nipple, and he began to suck. 

Christopher Adamms sucked very hard at Annette's feminine erection. He kept 
the tip of his tongue busy at all times so that he was licking and sucking 
at the nipple simultaneously. He hollowed his cheeks. 

The tall blonde hunk of beefcake created an intense vacuum inside his oral 
cavity. There was nothing subtle or cute about the way he sucked her nipple. 
The handsome and muscular writer sucked it as hard as he could. He sucked so 
that the skin all around the nipple was stretched taut. 

He sucked so that her entire tit looked a good deal pointier than usual-and 
that was saying something because Annette's tits were on the pointy side to 
begin with. 

He could feel her nipple continuing to get harder and larger against his 
sexually aroused taste buds. 

"BITE! BITE! BITE! BITE! BITE MY NIPPLE! OHHHHHHHH!" 

Christopher did as he was told. He got that dark brown nipple in between his 
upper and lower teeth. He nipped lightly. 

"BITE HARDER! BITE HARDER! BITE HARDER! OHHHHHHHH!" 

The man bit hard at her nipple, so that Annette felt twinges of pain 
blending with her pleasure. Annette did not mind the pain. Not at all. It 
was intrinsically sexual pain. Her sexually aroused nervous-system was 
translating the pain into pleasure before sending the signals to her brain. 
She found that the pain was enhancing her pleasure rather than stifling it, 
as one might imagine it would. 

Christopher began to make growling noises, unadulteratedly animalistic 
noises, down inside his gullet. He tugged at her nipple with his pearly 
white choppers. He moved his face from side to side. There was a frightening 
moment or two when the little black girl thought that the white man had lost 
control of himself, that he had turned into a savage beast. Indeed, there 
was a frightening moment or two when she thought he was going to rip her 
nipple right off the tip of her firm and supple tit. 

This, obviously, did not happen. Christopher had not lost control of 
himself. The tall blonde hunk of beefcake knew just what he was doing. He 
released his grip on her nipple with his teeth and allowed the feminine 
erection to snap back into place, before any damage whatsoever could be done 
to it. 

Annette opened her eyes and looked at the nipple. She was astounded by what 
she saw. Annette could see that her feminine erection had grown HUGE-that it 
was protruding almost a full inch from the tip of her tit because of the 
harsh oral stimulation Christopher had given it. Her eyes opened so wide 
that the whites were visible all the way around her brown irises. Her nipple 
had grown-by far-larger than it had ever grown before. 

"DO THE OTHER ONE! DO THE OTHER NIPPLE! OHHHHHHHH!" 

Christopher lowered her head to her bosom once again and he began to 
pleasure Annette's other tit. He once again went all the way from gingerly 
licking and kissing to harsh biting and sucking. Christopher did not stop 
orally stimulating the second nipple until both of Annette's feminine 
erections were once again the same size. They were BOTH sticking up from the 
tips of her tits a full inch. 

"YOU MAKE ME FEEL SO GOOD! YOU MAKE ME FEEL SO GOOD!" 

Christopher kissed her mouth once again. They kissed long and wet. 

The little girl could feel her pussy juice dripping out of the base of her 
cunt slash in a steady flow. 

Annette could tell that the crack of her ass was completely wet and slippery 
with her pussy's drippings by this time. 

The scent of Annette's pussy was wafting up from between her parted thighs. 
Both Christopher and Annette could smell her cunt. 

They loved that smell. They knew that it wouldn't be long before the whole 
room reeked of her wet twat. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

Christopher lifted his head away from Annette's second nipple. He had gone 
through the whole process once again. He went all the way from gingerly 
kissing and licking to harsh sucking and biting before he released his grip. 
Christopher Adamms did not stop until both of Annette's nipples were once 
again the same size. 

The man then placed one hand on either of her tits. He had his palms 
slightly cupped and he spread his ringers apart as far as he could get them. 
He had to spread his fingers that far apart if he wanted to hold her 
globular knocker flesh in its entirety. Christopher positioned his hands so 
that Annette's super-erect nipples were throbbing precisely against the 
stretched corners of his palms. 

"Ummmmmmmm! You make me feel so good, Christopher." 

The little girl had raised her knees in the air, and she was opening and 
closing her knees rapidly-fanning her knees, fanning the flame in her 
dripping pussy. 

"You make me feel so fucking hot, Christopher," she said. 

The man curled his fingers at the knuckles and pressed with the tips of his 
long blunt fingers hard enough to pucker her firm and supple tit flesh a 
little bit. 

"You make my tits feel so hot, so swollen. OHHHHHHHH!" 

The man squeezed her tits, and then Christopher began to move both of her 
tits at the same time in slow sensuous circles on her chest. He pushed her 
tits upward on her chest toward her neck. He pulled her tits downward toward 
the base of her slightly protruding rib-cage. He pulled her tits apart with 
both of his large hands at the same time-and did not stop until the skin in 
the cleavage between them was stretched taut. 

"OHHHHHHHH! OWWWWWW! YES! YES! YES! YES!" she cried. 

Then the man pushed her tits together. He shoved her boobs together snugly, 
very snugly. So snugly that those globular knockers were flattened on their 
insides. The cleavage between them, Christopher could see, had become 
extraordinarily long and deep. 

Christopher Adamms loved the way the little girl's nipples felt as they 
throbbed against the centers of his palms. 

Then he removed his hands from her tits. He got each of her super-erect 
nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. 

He pinched them. 

Tweaked them. 

Pulled them. 

"Ooooooooooh! Yes! Tug my nipples! SO GOOD! SO GOOD!" 

The little girl found that it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to 
keep her lower torso still. She was writhing on the bed. Her hips were 
moving in slow circles. Her weight was rocking back and forth-shifting from 
one black ass cheek to the other. The little girl occasionally jerked upward 
with her femininely sloped loins as if she were pretending in her mind that 
there was already a cock inside her cunt, plowing her pussy good, plowing 
her cunt REAL good. 

The man released his grip with his thumbs and forefingers on both of 
Annette's Hershey's Kisses simultaneously. They snapped back into place. The 
pinching and pulling he had administered upon them had done nothing to make 
them shrink. 

Annette could feel the fire in her cunt getting more intense with each 
passing second. She could feel her ache of desire spreading upward into her 
loins. She could feel her feminine craving spreading downward into the 
insides of her thighs. She could feel her natural lubrication dripping out 
of her cunt across her bald ass-hole. Annette could feel her ass-hole 
starting to tingle with desire. She decided that she wanted her ass-hole to 
be orally pleasured just about as much as she wanted her cunt pleasured. The 
little girl could feel the mucous membranes at the mouth of her rectum 
swelling. She could feel the ring of muscle at her bung hole throbbing 
intensely-and she figured at that moment that her nether eye probably looked 
as if it were winking. The man began to kiss the flat plane of Annette's 
belly. He parted his lips and stuck out his tongue as, far as he could get 
it. He concentrated on making his taster tip as pointy as possible. He then 
traced a crooked wet circle all the way around her dimpled and concave 
bellybutton. Christopher Adamms then dipped the tip of his tongue eight into 
her navel and Annette was pleased to find that this felt a hell of a lot 
better than she thought it was going do. The man switched positions on the 
bed so that he was on his belly with his face, his head and shoulders in 
between her parted thighs. His legs were so long that his feet drooped over 
the foot of Annette's bed, with his toes pointing downward toward the floor 
of her studio apartment. The man could smell the scent of Annette's cunt 
more strongly now that he had his face right down there near her swollen 
poontang. He breathed through his flaring nostrils a couple of times and 
sucked the scent of her cunt right up deep into his sinuses. Christopher 
could feel himself becoming intoxicated by her odor. He could feel the ache 
returning to his balls. He could tell that soon the hot blood of his 
masculine arousal was once again going to start pumping into the head and 
the haft of his cock. He began to kiss and lick and even bite a little bit 
at the insides of her thighs. His mouth moved all the way from her knees to 
the sides of her vulva. To the hairless sides of her vulva. He allowed his 
mouth to come within a minute fraction of an inch of Annette's outer cunt 
lips without making direct contact with those all-important mucous 
membranes. He decided that he wanted to suck on her toes, because they were 
so chubby and cute. He sucked all ten of her toes, first one at a time and 
then in sets of two and three, the little girl was amazed that this did not 
tickle. She was amazed at how good it felt. She felt as if her entire body 
had turned into one gigantic erogenous zone. Annette realized, only in 
retrospect, that it was impossible for her central nervous-system to be 
sexually aroused and ticklish at the same time. The man used his long thick 
fingers to pull her little toes apart so that he could flick the tip of his 
tongue back and forth in between them. 

"Christopher?" 

"Yes?" 

"Would you do something for me?" Annette asked sweetly. "What?" 

"It is something that most men don't like to do," she said. 

"I have a very open mind when it comes to sex," he said. 

"It is something that grosses a lot of men out," she said. 

"Tell me what it is," Christopher Adamms said sweetly. 

"Would you rim my ass-hole?" Annette asked, her voice a whisper. "Sure." 

"Oh, yeah!" 

"I was going to do that anyway," Christopher Adamms said. "You were?" 

"Sure. I said that I wanted to kiss and lick your whole body-and that was 
just what I meant," he said. 

"You are a great lover, Christopher," Annette said. 

"I guess you just inspire me, Annette," Christopher replied. 

Christopher lifted both of Annette's legs at the same time. He lightly 
flicked the tip of his tongue back and forth across the smooth skin at the 
backs of her knees, where he knew the skin was hypersensitive and 
super-erogenous. He told her to curl up in a ball. 

"Tuck your knees up to your chest," Christopher said. 

"Okay." 

"Roll your weight from your ass cheeks to the small of your back." 

"Right." 

"Roll your ass cheeks right up into my face," he said. "Okay." 

"Reach up and grip yourself at the ankles," he said. "Why?" 

"It will make it easier for you to stay in that tucked position." 

"Right." 

The man then kissed and licked at the backs of her thighs, working his way 
steadily downward toward the cheeks of her ass. 

He bit her ass cheeks. 

Hard. 

There was a frightening moment or two when Annette feared that the man was 
going to break the skin with his sharp choppers as he did this. But 
Christopher knew what he was doing. He did, however, leave semi-circles of 
teeth marks in her ass flesh. 

Then he pulled his face away from her ass cheeks for a moment. 

He placed one hand on both of her firm yet supple black fanny cakes. He 
scratched at those ass cheeks with his squared-off fingernails. He caressed 
her ass cheeks gingerly with the fleshy part of his fingertips. Then he used 
strong fingers to massage her ass flesh-which Annette particularly enjoyed. 
The man kneaded the little black girl's ass cheeks as if he were preparing a 
pair of pumpernickel loaves for a stint in the baker's oven. 

The man then turned his fingertips inward toward the crack of her ass, while 
turning his elbows outward so that they were pointing at opposite walls of 
her studio apartment. He allowed his fingertips to creep inward, deeper and 
deeper into the cleavage between her buns, closer and closer to her 
throbbing little ass-hole. Christopher did not stop pushing his fingertips 
inward until the tips of his middle fingers were only a fraction of an inch 
away from her ass-hole on either side. He then curled his fingers at the 
knuckles and pressed his fingertips right into her ass flesh-puckering her 
dark ass flesh with the pressure he was exerting. 

He began to pull her ass cheeks apart. 

***** 

Christopher separated Annette's buns slowly and ceremoniously-as if he were 
parting the ripe and sacred sections of a fruit. He did not stop pulling 
Annette's ass cheeks apart until the skin in the crack of her ass was 
stretched taut. Christopher pulled Annette's fanny cakes so far apart that 
even some of the puckers in her rectum were smoothed by the pressure he was 
exerting. The man then lowered his head and placed his square chin right on 
the bedspread. As it so happened, Christopher placed his chin right in the 
center of the wet spot Annette had made on the bedspread with the natural 
lubrication that was still steadily drooling from the base of her thoroughly 
engorged black poontang slash. He parted his lips. 

He placed the tip of his tongue at the very top of the crack of her ass, at 
the y-shaped cleft she had there, very close to the small of her back, 
directly in between the twin dimples that indicated the location of her 
kidneys. Christopher Adamms began to flick the tip of his tongue back and 
forth lightly and quickly. The tall blonde hunk of beefcake raised his chin 
off of the bed as he drew his tongue upward, deeper and deeper into the 
crack of her ass, closer and closer to her ass-hole. The handsome and 
muscular writer licked upward a hell of a lot more slowly than he really had 
to. His tongue's movements were patient. He approached her ass-hole a 
fraction of an inch at a time. 

Then he licked her ass-hole. 

"SO GOOD!" she screamed. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

"I can't believe how cute your ass-hole is, Annette," Christopher said. His 
voice was breathless. 

Christopher Adamms was spitting out his words in between desperate gasps for 
air. His cock was growing very fast. 

"What is so cute about my ass-hole?" Annette asked. She too was spitting out 
her words as if she were ridding her mouth of so many watermelon seeds. 

The little girl was clutching her ankles very tightly. She could feel the 
strain in her fingers. Her legs muscles were taut. She probably would have 
been uncomfortable if she weren't so goddamned horny. 

"It has no hair on it," Christopher said. 

"I have known men who had asked me if I shave my ass-hole." 

"I can see that. A lot of women would love to look like you." 

"I just never grew any hair down there. Men seem to like it." 

"That is because it makes you look so young," he said. 

"The younger the better with you guys, huh?" she said. 

"Not necessarily. It is the content of the character that counts." 

"Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit," Annette said with a gasp. 

Christopher began to lap at her anus more eagerly-more enthusiastically. He 
licked at Annette's bung hole with the flat part of his tongue. He could 
taste the juicy that had dripped out of her anus. It did not take 
Christopher Adamms very long at all to figure out that Annette's cunt juice 
tasted every bit as good as it smelled. 

He could taste Annette's ass-hole as well with his sexually aroused taste 
buds. The bung tasted meaty. 

Christopher Adamms licked eagerly at Annette's tightest hole-her backdoor 
orifice-until all the flavor was gone. He laved until the delicious flavor 
was laved away. 

"Do you know what I what I want you to do now, Christopher?" 

"You want me to stick my tongue right up inside your ass." 

"Why, that's right, how did you know?" Annette asked. 

"Wild guess." 

"Seriously." 

"I have ESP." 

"I almost believe you." 

"You should." 

"You bias your sample with your sexy self," she said. 

"Oh, I know. I realize the book is about me," he said. 

"So this is all bullshit, this research bullshit." 

"If I believe the lie its easier to dupe my agent." 

"I see. You are just out getting laid, then, right." 

"AND writing about it." 

"Yes, and writing about it." Then, after a pause, she added: 

"I hope the chapter about me is really HOT!" she said. 

"You don't have anything to worry about, Annette." 

***** 

Christopher stiffened his tongue and placed the tip at the center of her 
pink asterisk of her ass-hole. 

The tip of his tongue was pointy. Annette concentrated all of her attention 
of relaxing the ring of muscle at the mouth of her rectum. The little girl 
found that this was easy for her to do. Christopher Adamms began to push 
forward with his handsome head and his massive shoulders. Annette could feel 
the pressure increasing on her bung. Annette could feel her ass-hole 
starting to open the very instant he started to push. Annette could feel 
Christopher's tongue slipping inside her. She began to sound quite 
hysterical. 

"STICK IT IN! STICK IT IN ME! STICK IT IN MY ASS! STICK YOUR TONGUE UP 
INSIDE MY ASSHOLE! DEEP! DEEP! DEEP! DEEPER! GIVE IT TO ME! STICK YOUR 
MOTHERFUCKING TONGUE UP INSIDE MY TIGHT, HOT ASSHOLE AS DEEPLY AS YOU CAN 
GET IT-OH YEAH!" she screamed. 

The little girl could feel the tip of the man's cock pushing right up past 
her sphincter and up into her colon. She could feel Christopher doing 
precisely what she wanted him to do. Annette could feel Christopher pushing 
his tongue up inside her as deeply as he could get it. Christopher Adamms 
could feel her ass-hole gripping tightly at his tongue as it pushed inside. 
The tall blonde hunk of beefcake could feel her tongue actually sucking at 
his tongue, drawing the tip of his bold and curious taster up into her 
colon. The handsome and muscular writer knew that her ass-hole was designed 
to push objects out of her colonso that sucking from her twat was truly 
amazing. It meant that her muscles were working against her instincts, 
unless, of course, her instincts changed once her libido took complete 
control of Annette's nervous system. 

"Oooooooooh! I can feel you pushing side me so deep, so very deep, so good, 
so hot, yeah, yeah, yeah!" 

The man began to wiggle the tip of his cock around inside her colon. He did 
this quite playfully. 

Annette could feel Christopher Adamms pressing the tip of his tongue against 
various spots within her colon-using a wide variety of pressures. He then 
began to move his tongue in and out of her ass-hole. Annette could feel her 
bung being pushed and pulled by the increasingly rapid movements of 
Christopher Adamms' stiffened tongue. She could feel his tongue pushing even 
deeper than before into her anus-and Annette would not have thought this 
possible unless she had felt it for herself. The little girl, however, did 
not take long to figure out that, in spite of the intense pleasure this 
tongue-fucking was giving her ass, Christopher's tongue was nowhere near 
long enough, nor thick enough, to appease her deep-anal craving. She knew 
that his tongue was not big enough to stretch her the way her ass-hole 
needed to be stretched. 

Annette knew that Christopher's tongue was not long enough to reach the 
secret ache within her. Annette knew that the appeasement of her ass-hole 
was a task reserved exclusively for Christopher Adamms' tool of manhood, the 
pecker which was once again hard as a rock in between his legs. All of these 
sensations were strange to the little black girl. She had never been fucked 
in the ass-hole before. Annette had never even wanted to be fucked in the 
ass-hole before. 

Now it was all she could think about. 

He was building a fire inside her ass with his fucking tongue-and it was a 
fire that only his cock could put out. 

The man sensed that he was only teasing her with his tongue. He pulled his 
taster all the way out of her ass-hole, removing the tip very slowly so that 
her anus would not be forced to slam shut on her. 

"Now my pussy?" 

"Now your pussy!" 

"Oh, good." 

"I am going to lick every nook and cranny of your cunt." 

"Please do." 

"And I am going to save your little love button for last." 

"You tease." 

"That's right. I am going to keep you on the very edge." 

"The edge?" 

"The edge of orgasm, my little chocolate bunny," he said. 

"You are a savage beast, Christopher Adamms!" she said. 

"Yes." 

"You are going to make me hurt myself with tension." 

"I don't think so." 

"You are going to make me pull a muscle or something." 

"I suspect not." 

"How can you be so sure, Christopher?" Annette asked. "Because I will know 
the appropriate time to make you come." 

"I'll bet you will! I'll just bet you will!" she said. 

"Now lower your feet so I can get at your cooze." 

"Okay." 

"That's good." 

He parted his lips and placed the tip of his tongue on the inch-long patch 
of mucous membrane in between Annette ass-hole and the base of Annette's 
cunt slash. Her natural lubrication was gathered there thickly. He sucked 
that spot and drank of her juice, her pussy's natural lubricant! 

***** 

Then the man moved his fingertips to the completely bald dark brown outer 
lips of Annette's cunt. 

Christopher turned his elbows outward, just as he had when tugging Annette's 
fanny cakes wide open. 

Christopher Adamms curled his fingers at the knuckles and began to separate 
Annette's pussy labia. 

The tall blonde hunk of beefcake pulled her pussy lips open until Annette's 
gash looked like a slab of raw meat. 

The handsome and muscular writer could see that her clitoris was swollen to 
three times its normal size. 

The good-looking sex journalist could see that he was not going to have to 
lick her clit for long to make her come. 

Christopher could tell that Annette was already very close to the edge-to 
the edge of her female climax. 

He began to flick the tip of his tongue back and forth across her outer cunt 
lips, up and down the entire length of her gash. 

Christopher allowed himself to lick very close to her clit, without making 
direct contact with the fiery bulb. 

Annette was convinced that her little man in the boat was going to burst at 
any second. She could feel it throbbing far out from under its protective 
sheath at the top of her Negro cunt. The man licked to the sides of her clit 
and then above her love button-at her clitoral foreskin. Just about every 
muscle in Annette's shapely and diminutive body had tensed up on her by this 
time. She felt as if she were about to shiver uncontrollably. Her back teeth 
were clenched together. Her nose was moving up and down on her face in a 
cute manner-so that Annette looked for all the world like a black bunny 
rabbit sniffing curiously at some fresh clover out in the middle of a meadow 
somewhere. The man licked up and down in between her inner and outer cunt 
lips, once again allowing the tip of his taster to come very close to her 
clit without actually touching it. Christopher flicked the tip of his tongue 
lightly and quickly back and forth across the outermost edges of Annette's 
protruding and slightly curled back inner cunt lips he wiggled his face from 
side to side and pushed his tongue in between her cunt lips. He stiffened 
his tongue and tilted his face to one side so that he could push the tip of 
his tongue as deeply as it would go into her pussy. Annette thought it was 
odd that Christopher tilted his head in this manner before penetrating her 
cunt with his tongue. Then the little black girl realized just how smart he 
was. Christopher knew that just about any stimulation to her clit was apt to 
make Annette pop her rocks at this deliciously sexy point, even if that 
contact were made by his nose! 

Christopher Adamms' tongue made a vain search for her cervix. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

"I AM SO CLOSE! I AM SO FUCKING CLOSE!" she screamed. 

Christopher could tell that his tongue was not going to be long enough to 
caress the mouth of her womb. 

Christopher Adamms pulled his tongue all the way out of her cunt hole. He 
moved his right forefinger to the very top of her slash. He touched her 
clitoral foreskin. 

The tall blonde hunk of beefcake then peeled the elk's fleshy sheath upward 
very delicately, as if he were peeling an eyelid upward. He bared the love 
button. 

The handsome and muscular writer rendered her love button completely naked 
and vulnerable to his oral caress. 

The good-looking sex journalist then moved his mouth very close to her 
little man in the boat. He puckered his lips and blew cool air onto her 
clit. This caress alone, as indirect as it was, was practically enough to 
make her pop her rocks spectacularly. 

Christopher sensed this, so he stopped blowing on her clit. 

Instead he allowed his tongue to flick out of his mouth. He touched her clit 
for the first time. Christopher allowed the tip of his tongue to make direct 
contact with Annette's love button as lightly as he could, and he pulled his 
tongue away the instant that contact was made. 

Christopher sought, and he found, the most subtle possible clitoral caress. 
He knew that he did not have to touch that fiery bulb very hard. After all, 
it WAS the most sensitive part of her body. 

The little girl's loins snapped upward as he touched the magic spot for the 
first time, and Christopher had to jerk upward with his head and shoulders 
to avoid being smacked in the nose with her practically bald black mound. 

Christopher Adamms knew that Annette could feel a lightning bolt of raw 
sexual energy ripping through her body as he touched that magic clitoral 
spot. 

Annette could tell that the orgasm Christopher was going to give her was 
going to be mind-boggling in intensity. 

The little black girl knew that Christopher Adamms was going to give her one 
of the most intense comes of her life. 

Annette could feel herself hovering at the edge of her bliss. She was 
teetering at the edge of her sexual cliff, yearning to plummet and spiral 
downward, downward, into the bottomless abyss, the blackness of her womanly 
ecstasy. 

Christopher began to dab the tip of his tongue at Annette's clit, always 
pulling the tip of his taster away from the magic spot before the explosions 
in Annette's cunt had an opportunity to start-before Annette's sexual pussy 
pleasure had an opportunity to become fully orgasmic in nature. 

Christopher Adamms heard her moans becoming increasingly desperate. 

"OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OH!" she cried. 

He could feel her shivering violently inside her skin. 

"PLEASE!" 

"Please what?" 

"Please make me come!" 

"Okay." 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you," she said. 

Christopher placed the tip of his tongue on her clit once again and this 
time he kept it there. He kept the tip of his tongue perfectly still on her 
clit for a moment or two. These moments lasted a very long time to Annette. 

"AARRGGHH!" the little black girl said with frustration. 

The man then began to alternate the pressure he was applying to her clit, 
alternating from gingerly to firm and then back to gentle again. Annette was 
tossing her head from side to side wildly. Her tits were heaving up and down 
on her chest. She wanted to squeeze hard at Christopher's ears with the 
insides of her finely-tapered thighs. 

Annette could feel her sense of time being all but obliterated by the 
intensity of her sensations. 

Annette's chubby little toes were clutching and gathering at the bedspread 
beneath her feet. Her feet were on the bed on either side of Christopher's 
huge chest. She was touching him with her ankle bones. 

Christopher then began to roll her clit around in a slow sensuous circle 
with the tip of his tongue. 

Christopher Adamms started out rolling her little man in the boat in slow 
and delicate circles. 

The tall blonde hunk of beefcake steadily increased both the tempo and the 
pressure of his tongue's movements as he went along. 

The handsome and muscular writer did not have to do this for very long 
before all hell broke loose in between the little black girl's fine, slender 
legs. 

Annette could feel her pussy flesh starting to crawl around in between her 
legs as if it had suddenly developed a mind of its own. 

She could feel her love button starting to spasm. She could feel 
contractions, sexual contractions, both inside and outside her poontang. She 
could feel convulsions ripping from her cervix right up into her uterus. The 
little girl's facial features were contorting so severely that she did not 
even look very much like herself anymore. 

The little girl could feel the explosions of ecstasy starting, naturally 
enough, at the focal point of her desire. The atomic bombs going off in her 
pussy had her clitoris as ground zero. She could feel the pleasure spreading 
outward from there in ever-mounting concentric circles. She could tell that 
the pleasure was going to spread throughout her body in this manner, until 
both her upper and lower torsos were affected by the joy, until all of her 
sexually aroused nerve-endings were going berserk with her orgasmic 
pleasure, until her body was enveloped by her physical enjoyment. The little 
girl could feel the pleasure rushing up her spine toward her head. The 
pleasure burned its way right into the gray matter of her reeling brain-and 
her sense of time no longer existed. Annette could tell that it was going to 
seem as if her orgasm were going on forever. The little girl could feel the 
whole room spinning. She could no longer feel the bed touching her. She felt 
as if she had become nothing but one gigantic cunt-one gigantic pussy with a 
nervous-system attached to it. She felt that Christopher Adamms on the other 
hand had been transformed into one huge tongue and a humongous set of 
kissing lips. She could feel her sense of reality leaving her Annette was no 
longer capable of rational thought. She had no sense of space. She was only 
vaguely aware of where she was. Annette felt as if she were levitating, as 
she had seen a magician make a woman do on stage once when she was in 
grammar school. Annette felt as if she were astral-projecting, like she 
heard the Hindus did after long stints of meditation. Annette had the 
strange yet wonderful feeling that her physical self and her spiritual self 
were parting. While Annette's body remained on the bed, her spirit was 
spiraling upward toward the ceiling of her studio apartment. Annette felt as 
if she could feel the earth spinning on its axis, and the truly bizarre 
thing was that she felt as if she were spiraling in precisely the opposite 
direction. She was berserk with her physical enjoyment. Her screams of 
pleasure were so high in pitch that human ears could no longer pick them up 
properly. Only a stray dog that might have been wandering around her 
Brooklyn apartment building could have heard Annette's exclamation of 
pleasure in its entirety. 

Then she began to scream more rationally. She screamed, "COMING! OHHHHHHHH! 
COMING! COMING SO FUCKING HARD! OHHHHHHHH! IT FEELS SO GOOD! CHRISTOPHER! 
CHRISTOPHER! YOU ARE MAKING IT FEEL SO GOOD! YOU ARE MAKING IT FEEL SO 
MOTHERFUCKING GOOD! I CAN'T STOP! I CAN'T STOP! I CAN'T STOP COMING! 
DON'TLET ME STOP COMING! CHRISTOPHER! CHRISTOPHER CHRISTOPHER! 

OHHHHHHHH! I WANT TO COME! I WANT TO COME-FOREVER!" 

At the very instant that Annette's come began 

Christopher could feel a little squirt of liquid on her lower lip. 

There had been a time, when Christopher Adamms was just a teenager, when he 
might have thought that this was piss striking his lower lip-that Annette 
had lost control of her bladder because of her convulsive pleasure. 

Now he was older, however, and Christopher Adamms had eaten many cunts. He 
knew that this little squirt was not piss at all. He knew that the little 
squirt, as a matter-of-fact, had nothing to do with the little girl's 
bladder. 

The tall blonde hunk of beefcake knew that this was her feminine 
ejaculation. The handsome and muscular writer knew that this was proof of 
her orgasm's authenticity. The handsome and muscular writer knew that her 
come was real. Of course, it would never have occurred to Christopher in a 
million years that Annette would or could adequately fake a come. Nobody was 
that good of an actress. 

Christopher stopped rolling her clit in little circles and began to flick 
the tip of his tongue back and forth across the fiery bulb lightly and 
quickly. 

Once again, Christopher steadily increased both the tempo and the pressure 
of his tongue tip's movements, this time until he was lapping at her cunt as 
hard and fast as he could. He pressed the little girl's little man in the 
boat almost flat against the base of Annette's pubic bone, and he worked his 
tongue back and forth across it as hard and fast as he could. 

Just when Annette for to the point where she thought the intensity of her 
orgasmic spasms were bound to start diminishing in their intensity, 
Christopher Adamms did something that she did not expect-something that she 
would not have anticipated in a million years. 

He wrapped his lips around her clit-along with its surrounding tissues-and 
he began to suck at the bulb. 

Christopher Adamms kept the tip of his tongue busy at all times so that he 
was licking and sucking at Annette's little man in the boat together. 

The little girl could feel fresh waves of pleasure roaring through her 
brain, and again she screamed very loudly in a shrill shriek. 

Then her come was over. 

All of her muscles relaxed. 

The little girl caught her breath. 

Annette's sweat began to cool. 

Christopher Adamms pulled his lips and his tongue off of her little man in 
the boat the second that her come was through. The tall blonde hunk of 
beefcake was smart. The handsome and muscular writer was sexually 
experienced enough to know that the fiery bulb was too sensitive to even be 
touched during those precious first few moments following her orgasm. 

There was a part of Annette that felt as if she were relaxed for the very 
first time. She could feel the ecstasy of her orgasm being replaced by the 
warmth and contentment of her post-climactic afterglow. 

Her body jerked a couple of times as a couple of post-orgasmic spasms shot 
up and down the entire length of her spine. 

The wet spot on the bedspread beneath Annette's ass was larger than ever. It 
was now made up of a combination of fluids. Annette's natural lubrication, 
of course, and Christopher Adamms' spittle. 

The entire studio apartment reeked of Annette's cunt. 

 CHAPTER TEN 

"You look silly, Christopher," Annette exclaimed. 

"Why?" Christopher Adamms asked, with a feigned frown. 

"It is your face," Annette said with a girlish giggle- 

"What about my face?" Christopher Adamms inquired. 

"The lower half of it is all wet and shiny," she said. 

"And whose fault is that, I might ask," Christopher said. 

"I will take full responsibility," Annette replied. 

"You had better. Okay if I wipe my face on the bedspread?" 

"That will not be necessary, Christopher," Annette said. 

"Why not? You don't want me to clean my face off?" 

Annette silently shook her pretty head from side to side. 

"You want to let your juice dry on my face and get sticky?" 

"Nope. I want to lick your face clean for you," she said. 

"I guess that is only fair," Christopher Adamms said. 

"You licked my face clean after you gave me head," she said. 

"I know. I can't remember ever doing that before either." 

"You didn't know what man-come tasted like before you licked my face?" 

"No. I only know what girl come tastes like," Christopher said. 

"Gee, I know what both kinds of come taste like," she said. 

"Are you bisexual?" Christopher Adamms queried quickly. 

"No, if I was I would have told you during the interview." 

"Then how do you know what girl come tastes like?" 

"From licking my fingers clean after masturbating." 

"Ohhhhhh, I see," Christopher said with a knowing nod. 

"Gosh, I made you do something you had never done before!" 

It was obvious that Annette was feeling quite pleased with herself. 

"I told you that you brought out the kinkiness in me." 

"You know what, Christopher Adamms?" Annette asked. 

"What's that?" the handsome blonde inquired with a smile. 

"You bring out the kinkiness in me too," she said. 

"Ummmmmmm, just when I thought I was getting out of here." 

"You can leave any time you want to, Christopher," she said. 

"You make it so that I don't want to go," Christopher said. 

"I think the sun is rising," Annette said with a laugh. 

"It's a brand new day," Christopher said joyously. 

"I say we make it a kinky kind of day," Annette said. 

"Don't you have to go to school today?" Christopher asked. 

"I'll cut class. I cut all the time," Annette said. 

"Okay by me. Don't flunk out because of me," he said. 

"I assure you I get nothing but As and B's," she said. 

"I could tell right off that you were a smart cookie." 

Christopher crawled on his hands and knees up toward the head of the bed so 
that she could get at his wet chin with her tongue. 

"Ummmmmmmm, tastes so good!" she said as she licked. 

Annette did not stop licking at Christopher Adamms' handsome kisser until he 
was as clean as a whistle. 

They kissed passionately. 

"Ever since you started rimming me I have only been able to think about one 
thing," Annette said when the kiss was over. 

"What's that?" 

"I want you to make me do something I have never done before." 

"Anything." 

"I want you to fuck my ass-hole, Christopher," Annette said. 

"Your bung hole had never been fucked?" he inquired. 

"Nope," Annette said, shaking her head from side to side. 

"Are you sure that you want to do it with me?" he asked. 

"Yes, absolutely and positively," Annette replied. 

"But my cock, it is so-" Christopher couldn't finish. 

"I know you are big. That's why I chose you," she said. 

"You know that it is going to hurt, don't you?" he asked. 

"I will find pleasure in the pain," Annette replied. 

"I might even rear you, and make you bleed," he said. 

"Oh, I'll bet my ass-hole is more elastic than that." 

"What got the fire cooking under your tail, Annette?" 

"It was you-you and your rimming tongue," she said. 

"We are going to need something for lubrication." 

"Hmmmmmmmra, let's see. If it were winter I would have some petroleum jelly 
for my chapped lips," she said. 

"It's summer," Christopher Adamms said solemnly. His face fell. 

"I have heard that K-Y Jelly is the best lubricant." 

"Do you have any of that?" Christopher asked hopefully. 

"No. I have never needed it before. My pussy lubricates itself." 

"I've got it. Is there butter in the refrigerator?" 

"YES! YES THERE IS!" Annette exclaimed, her eyes wide. 

"I think that will do the trick," Christopher said. 

"I'll . take it out of the refrigerator immediately." 

"Yes, good idea. Give it a chance to soften a bit." 

"I want it to get to room temperature before you put it on my ass-hole," 
Annette said with a high-pitched giggle. 

Annette ran and got the butter. Since it was a studio apartment, the little 
black girl did not have to leave the room to do this. Christopher kept hjs 
eyes on the dark chocolate cheeks of Annette's ass. He loved the way she 
wiggled when she moved. 

***** 

"What position would you like to be fucked in?" he asked. 

"Gee, I am new at ass fucking. Which position is best?" 

"Best?" Christopher Adamms asked, tilting his head to one side. 

"Which position is the most comfortable?" Annette clarified. 

"Doggie, I guess." 

"You mean I get on my hands and knees and you kneel behind me." 

"Right." 

"I don't know, I was hoping I could watch your face as we fucked." 

"You could get on your back and drape your legs over my shoulders," 
Christopher Adamms said quickly. 

"Is that comfortable?" Annette asked the handsome man. 

"Probably not as comfortable, but you'll be able to see me." 

"I say we do it face to face," the little girl said. 

The little girl got on her back and curled herself into a ball just as she 
had when Christopher Adamms was rimming her ass-hole clean-inside and out. 

Christopher unwrapped the paper from the stick of butter. He scooped a big 
glob of butter on his right fingertips and opened her ass cheeks as far as 
they could go with his left hand. As before, Annette was reaching up with 
straightened arms to clutch herself at the ankles, to help hold herself in 
this tightly curled position. 

Christopher slapped the butter onto Annette's anxiously throbbing ass-hole. 
Christopher Adamms rubbed the butter all around her rectal area with a 
smooth steady circular motion. The tall blonde hunk of beefcake decided that 
it would be a good idea to push some of the butter up inside her ass-hole as 
well. The handsome and muscular writer used his middle finger to do this. 
The good-looking sex journalist decided that it was appropriate to penetrate 
her ass-hole with the longest and thickest of his digits. Because his middle 
finger was so slippery it slipped in easily, right up past her tight tubular 
sphincter muscle and into her colon. 

He pulled his finger out, scooped fresh butter onto his fingers and 
lubricate the entire length of his cock shaft, putting extra butter on the 
head of his dick where the lubrication would do the most good. The little 
black girl knew that her ass-hole was about to be asked to open further than 
it had ever opened before. There was no doubt in Annette's mind that the 
head of Christopher Adamms' cock was a hell of a lot thicker than anything 
she had ever squeezed out of her bald ass-hole. 

She was positive that she would have remembered an awesome turd with that 
kind of massive and mammoth girth. 

He then knelt in front of her and she draped her legs over his shoulders. He 
held her ass cheeks open with his left hand and pushed his cock head into 
the cleavage between her fanny cakes with his right hand. He rubbed the 
blunt tip of his cock up and down the entire length of her ass crack and he 
couldn't help but notice that she whimpered and whined with anticipatory 
pleasure each and every time his bulbous purple glans made direct contact 
with the mucous membranes at the mouth of her rectum. 

***** 

"Relax." 

"I'm relaxed." 

"Here we go." 

"Shove it in." 

"It's going to hurt." 

"I am ready for the pain." 

He pushed. 

She opened. 

All of the puckers in her ass-hole were smoothed as the head of his dick 
disappeared within "her. For a moment her ass-hole was clutching desperately 
at the ring of scar tissue at the top of his cock shaft just below the lower 
rim of his ass-hole. He kept pushing. He pushed the tip of his cock right up 
past her tight tubular sphincter muscle and into her colon. He did not stop 
pushing until his balls were resting on the top of her ass crack, until his 
blonde bush was pressed against her pussy-until her ass-hole was gripping 
his fleshy sword at the hilt. 

He began to fuck. 

Slowly at first. 

Then quickly. 

"YOU ARE MAKING IT HAPPEN, CHRISTOPHER, YOU ARE MAKING ME COME, YOU RE 
MAKING ME COME INSIDE MY ASSHOLE!" she screamed. 

EPILOGUE 

Christopher, after completing his research, had to sit down and finally 
write his book. After getting laid so frequently and so well during the 
research phase of his project, it was difficult for him to spend so much 
time alone at the typewriter. His glands kept distracting him. Luckily, 
Yvonne Craig was still in the neighborhood, still picking up guys under the 
Thirtieth Street elevated. When Christopher got really desperate he picked 
her up and took her to his apartment. He fucked her cunt. 

Her ass. 

Her throat. 

He knew that he couldn't use her services too frequently, or else he would 
never get any of his work done. 

His agent was pleased with the book and had no trouble selling it to a major 
publishing company. The book turned out to be a best-seller, which made 
Christopher a very rich man. He learned that the section on Negro females 
was what was making the book so popular, and that did not surprise him at 
all. 


THE END
