Black Men : Kings of The World


My name is Megan Woodland. I’ve always been a kinky white slut who does her best to improve racial relations in the community. I guess that’s why black guys like me so much. That’s more than okay by me because I like them too. More than they will ever know. In the 2008 Presidential Election, I’m supporting a handsome, distinguished and qualified black man over an old codger of a white man and a mean-spirited redneck white woman. Two years ago when a handsome and eloquent black man ran for the Governorship of my home state, I supported him. What can I say, folks? I love black men! I’m forty years old and stand five feet ten inches tall, a bit thick, with big tits and a wide, plump ass. My hair is blonde-white and my eyes are a steely blue. I’m of Irish and Latin stock. Which explains my big ass and finely curved body. By day, I work as a defense attorney in the city of Boston. By night, I please more black males than affirmative action.

Right now, I’m spending some quality time with my newfound friends Jackson Jacobs and Jamal Stanwood. It’s after hours. The other lawyers of the firm are gone. I’m usually the only one who pulls all-nighters. I’m celebrating a great victory with my clients. I first met them about a month ago when they came to my office. You see, they had gotten pulled over by two officers from the Boston Police Department. One of these officers had been cited for racial profiling before but never really faced any real reprimandation. His name is Dwight and he’d been a Boston cop for almost ten years. His partner that day was rookie cop Sarah Patchwork. They stopped my clients car and searched it. They also verbally abused the two young black men. What they don’t know is that these weren’t exactly ordinary black guys. They were college students, and the high-achieving sons of good families.

Jackson Jacobs and Jamal Stanwood are both student-athletes at my alma mater, the South End Technical Institute or S.E.T.I. Ah, this brings back some good memories of my college days. Even back then, I was totally into black guys. My first black guy was Raymond, from the S.E.T.I. varsity football team. I was quite pleased to know both Jackson and Jamal were football players. When I came to S.E.T.I. in 1990, they were just beginning to field intercollegiate sports. They added football, basketball, ice hockey, gymnastics, fencing, cross country, soccer, wrestling, swimming, baseball, volleyball and golf for men along with field hockey, basketball, cross country, soccer, volleyball, ice hockey, gymnastics, swimming, softball and golf for women. The varsity teams compete in the NCAA Division Two. We had club sports istanbul travesti in men’s rugby, women’s cycling, men’s water polo and women’s rugby. I eagerly joined the women’s rugby club, which was coached by an ex-football player. A handsome black stud who unfortunately was married. That didn’t stop us from hooking up discreetly all over campus.

Anyhow, back to the story. Jamal and Jackson had been wrongfully stopped by the police. All the cops saw was a bright red convertible with two young black men inside. If that’s not racial profiling, I don’t know what is. I went before a grand jury to proceed with my lawsuit against the Boston Police Department for racial profiling. It amazes me how racist some people can be. They can cheer for a black man when he’s leading their favorite college football or basketball team to glory but they will avoid him and fear him everywhere else. Such hypocrisy. I’ve never met a black man I found threatening. They’re just people. Skin color doesn’t make anyone a criminal. I represented my clients interests to the best of my ability. In the end, the Boston Police Department’s lawyers settled the case for three hundred grand. I could have gotten more but I didn’t want to press my luck. The judges in Boston tend to be pals with the local cops. I’m surprised one of them didn’t have the lawsuit thrown out.

So, there I was in my office with Jamal and Jackson. They were so happy. They didn’t know how to thank me. I smiled and told them I knew exactly how they could thank me. They stared at me, stunned. I smiled cunningly. Just between you and me, I took their case when no lawyer would partially because I thought it had merit and partially because these two black college football studs are so damn cute. I admired them so much. Jamal especially. He stands six feet three inches tall, big and strong-looking, with dark brown skin and pale gray eyes. His long hair is braided into neat cornrows. And he looks impeccable in one of the many dark Armani suits his businessman father Lloyd bought him for the trial.

Jackson is no slouch either. He’s around six-foot-two, with light brown skin, pale green eyes and short hair cut low on the sides. He’s got a small goatee and looks really handsome. Over the course of the trial I learned that he was biracial. His father is black and his mother is Puerto Rican. I like all shades of black men. From blue-black to light bronze and damn-near-white. Someday, I might need to get treated for this addiction of mine but right now, I’m going to enjoy it.

I asked Jamal and Jackson to relax while I gave them a show. I unbuttoned my dark blouse, freeing istanbul travestileri my big tits. I haven’t worn a bra since college. Other women at the law firm where I work hate me for it but the guys think I’m alright. I could care less about women’s opinions. They’re such a petty bunch. That’s why I prefer men. Politically. Romantically. Sexually. I pulled down my dark gray dress pants and kicked off my eight-hundred-dollar shoes. Jamal and Jackson gawked at me. I smiled at them. They hadn’t seen anything yet. Oops, I never wear any panties. Except on my period, of course. Thankfully, it’s weeks away. Once nude, I strutted around my office, giving Jackson and Jamal a nice show.

I could feel their eyes on me. However, when I turned around I could tell they were still reluctant. I know what they’re thinking. The white lady who fought for them in court against the racially profiling cops was standing naked before them. And they didn’t know what to make of it. I knew what fears plagued them. In college campuses, lots of mostly white chicks are prone to accuse innocent men of sexual assault. And if the accused man is black, he’ll be lucky not to get shot on the spot. Yeah, that’s what it means to be a black man in America. However, I’m not like these other man-hating, brain-dead white bitches. I can’t stand these bitches who give decent women a bad name and make it harder for men to open up to us. I’m not the kind of chick who makes false allegations. I’m into wild consentual sex with black men, not trumped-up charges that lead to media circuses.

I was sure to tell Jackson and Jamal that. They pondered it over. I waited for their answer. When they unzipped their pants, I smiled. Looks like I’m going to have some fun after all. Out came their cocks. I looked from one to the other. Both my black studs were well-endowed. Amen! I knelt before them and took one cock in each hand. Then, the party started. I wrapped my mouth around Jamal’s cock while stroking Jackson’s dick and balls. They sighed happily as I went to work on them. Soon, I had them both real hard. I couldn’t wait to get them inside of me.

We went at it on the carpeted floor of my office. I got on all fours and sucked Jamal’s cock while Jackson took me from behind. He eased his cock into my pussy and began thrusting deep inside of me, holding my hips firmly with his strong hands. Oh, man. I was loving every moment of it. The feel of Jackson’s cock inside my pussy was heavenly. Jamal’s big dick filled my mouth. He thrust it all the way to the back of my throat. Now, I’m no spring chicken and I’ve been known to deep-throat some particularly travesti istanbul large cocks but Jamal was in a class by himself. I’d guess Jackson to be around eight and a half inches. Jamal was easily four inches longer than his best buddy. Hot damn!

I busied myself helping Jamal’s cock reach its maximum hardness as Jackson plowed his cock into my pussy like a Pilgrim invading the Holy Land. He fucked me roughly. Which is cool, since I prefer rough sex to the whole love-me-tender thing so many guys think women subscribe to. Once I deemed Jamal hard enough, I announced to the guys that we were changing positions. I couldn’t wait to feel Jamal inside of me. I wanted to try something different, too. I asked Jackson to lie on the floor with his dick sticking up and lowered myself onto him. Then, Jamal came up behind me. I handed him a bottle of lube and he made good use of it. Lubed up both my ass and his big black cock. We were ready to party! He spread my ass cheeks wide open and pressed his cock agaisnt my asshole. Slowly, he went inside.

Contrarily to popular belief, lots of women are into anal sex. Why? Because it can feel totally awesome when done right. However, it certainly isn’t for every woman. I simply happen to be totally into it. Even so, I was a bit shocked by how big Jamal’s cock felt up my ass. I was bracing myself for it and it still took me by surprise. I gritted my teeth against the pain as he invaded my shit hole. Jackson wrapped his arms around my waist and thrust into my pussy. A sharp cry escaped my lips as I experienced double penetration. It felt so intense. Not something I do often but definitely an unforgettable experience that gets me every fucking time! Jamal began drilling his cock into my backdoor with energetic thrusts while Jackson slammed his cock into my pussy like a battering ram. They filled my holes. It hurt. It felt good. It made me scream. It made me laugh. Tears of pain mixed with joy streamed from my eyes as I got slammed, rammed and fucked in every hole, every which way. I loved every minute of it.

I can’t even begin to tell you how awesome it all felt. In the end, three sweaty bodies lay on the floor, spent. None of us were able to move a muscle. Jamal grinned broadly as I kissed him and played with his chest hairs. Jackson felt my breasts. I’ll never understand guys fascination with boobs but I don’t mind letting my favorite dudes play with mine. We didn’t hear the cleaning lady when she came in. But her screams alerted us to her presence soon enough. We sprang to our feet and began putting our clothes back on. It was too late, though. She’d seen everything. Oh, well. To hell with her. If this woman knows what’s good for her, she’ll keep her big mouth shut. Grinning, Jamal and Jackson thanked me again, and left my office. I kissed them goodnight and watched them go. I definitely wanted an encore with Jamal, that’s for sure.