I've been doing a lot of thinking, about my boyfriend and my ex but also about myself. Sure, with my pale skin and dark hair I look a bit goth most of the time. Yes, I hardly say anything and can be terribly shy. Dark, too but I guess most people see me as the perfect good little girl. Tries her best, is polite and mature. If only they knew, right? But then, do I know? Do I truly know myself? Take my boyfriend for example. When he's with me, I bombard him with sexual energy like a fucking succubus. He comes over, full of love and filled with cum. He always leaves absolutely exhausted, drained and totally in love with me. Thing is, what is it that makes me do all this? Is it because I'm sweet, or because I'm really fucking devious? Evil, maybe? Because, behind his back I also fantasise about big black guys. Because right here, I'm kind of cucking and denying followers. When I look at myself in the mirror, I still see the good girl that just loves to park her soft pussy on a white boy's face and ride his mouth until she cums nice and hard. When I look deep within myself though, I see some kind of fucked up domme that wants to cuck boys left and right and breed with the biggest baddest black thugs there are. When I look, really deep down? I see the best of my pleasure go hand in hand with the worst shit I could say, do and put poor white boys through. I kind of get why people say sex is about power, because I feel so powerful when I let myself go. I feel powerful, when I touch myself looking at blacked porn and picture all those weak little white boys dreaming they could do what black men do. I feel powerful, when I slap my boyfriend around and make him lick my pussy before I tell him to make me some food. I feel powerful, when I see that puppy dog look in his eyes that just wants to worship my body and obey my every command. I feel powerful, just from the idea that I could cuck him hard with a big black cock and ruin his mind completely.

You know, I'm kind of bent in the mind and I had another episode at school today. Nothing bad or serious, but they told me I could go home. I did, but when I got home? Just couldn't control myself. Practically tore my clothes off, stormed to my bedroom and threw myself on my bed to start touching my soft white pussy. Thinking about my ex, and playing with myself. Thinking about my big, black ex and fucking myself. Thinking about his big, black cock and cumming. Twice. Then again, and again.

My clothes are in the kitchen I think, on the stairs maybe? I don't know. I don't care. I just want to fantasise about my ex right now and cum, so I can focus on my homework. Still want to get something done this afternoon, but I also need to cum. My boyfriend at this point? A backup I'm unironically desperate for. I sent him a text. A video. Told him to come here. Right fucking now. I need him to eat my pussy, perhaps while I watch some blacked porn? Who knows. He should get here. Fast.

Couldn't help it. Just started fantasising about my ex, you know? While I touched my soft, white pussy. Rubbed it and humped it on my pillow. I just imagined him walking through the door. No warning, no introduction. To sit me down and have a chat with his little girl. That's what he used to call me. If he were here right now, I'd melt. Like butter. Soft, white butter that wants to get fucked long and hard. He used to be so charming, before he creamed that stupid fat white bitch's pussy. If he were here right now, he'd sit down with me at least. Talk to me. Touch me and make me wet. Make me want him again. Make me want his big, black cock.

I guess he'd try to kiss me. No, he wouldn't. He wouldn't try, of course. He would just do it. He'd kiss me, touch me and take me. Break me, own me all over again and resize my pussy for days. That's what he is. Who he is. How he is. I see that now, and I feel less bad about him cheating on me. Yes, I walked in on him fucking another white girl. Yes, I was hurt and upset. But, what can you do? He's got a big, black cock and I kind of get why girls would need to share that. It's not common, unfortunately. It's not like every boy has a huge, black cock and the skill and stamina to use it. If anything, it's why I prefer big black guys. They just have what white boys don't.

Fuck, if my ex were here? He would most definitely let me see it again. All those inches. All that cock. I swear, I wouldn't even ask him to apologise. I wouldn't even bring it up. I'd just take it out, admire it and worship it. Wrap my lips around it and tell him I forgive him. Yes, I would. I would forgive him, if only to suck and fuck that big black cock one more time.

It's been a while since I last cucked a white boy, but I remember how exciting it is. How much of a rush it gives me, denying my boyfriend while I fuck a big black guy behind his back. Giving myself to a better man who makes me cum, while he gets barely anything at all. Makes me want to piece together a certain adventure I had with one of the boys I cucked, you know? Kind of like I did with one of my other posts. I don't know, could be worth another shot?

'Oh my god,' you say, watching her run her hands all over her body. She's dressed in sheer fabric, so little between you and her young hot body. She's got it all and in the right places, and you'd do anything to fuck her. Absolutely anything, but she's not interested in you that way. She doesn't want your poor skills and little dick. No, in fact she's just come back from something. From an amazing experience, and you want to know all about it. Just thinking about it makes you hard.

'Have you been a good boy, honey?' She asks.

'Yes.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes,' you gulp, and you risk her anger by touching her round and perfect ass. 'Oh my god,' you repeat under your breath, but she heards. Of course, she hears.

'I can tell how desperate you are, just from your hands on me,' she giggles. 'How badly do you want to cum right now?'

'You have no idea,' you confess.

'I don't, but I'd like to,' she teases.

She turns around, pushes you down onto the bed and plants a kiss on your lips. She's stunning, enchanting and now she's got you. Pinned down, increasingly hard and aching to bust. She's pushing all your buttons right now, and you don't know what to do.

'What, what,' you stammer, in between her kisses.

'I don't know,' she cuts in. 'Still turned on, I guess?' She keeps kissing you, slowly and tenderly. Then, she lets out a needy moan. 'He was so good, baby.'

You want her to kiss you more, because it's bringing you so fucking close to the edge. You want her to tell you more too, because that's probably going to finish you off. It's weird and fucked up, but having her tell you about the latest big black cock she's fucked just does it for you. Makes you nut. Makes you cream your pants and explode harder than you've ever done in your life.

'He was,' she rolls her eyes and throws her head back. 'He was fucking amazing, sweetie. Really, you can't imagine.'

It's true. You can't. You don't have the first idea of what he made her feel. How much he made her cum. How wet his big, black cock makes her and just how deep he can reach. You can't begin to fathom it.

'He fucked me so, so,' she struggles, reliving every second of it. 'I came even before he put it in, honey.'

You can hardly believe it, but you know she'd never lie about it.

'He is just so fucking big, and he knows what to do with it.'

She kisses you again. Deeply. Tenderly. Passionately. It's making you so confused, so aroused and yet so lost. What is she doing? How is this supposed to make you feel?

'Honey, I love how supportive you are about all this. You really know what I want, and how to step aside when you need to.'

'Step aside?' You ask, more and more puzzled.

'Yes, baby. You know how to fulfil my needs, even when it means you have to let another man take care of me.'

You can't stomach it as much as you thought you would.

'Right, cuckie?'

You groan. That word alone sets you on edge. If she says it one more time, you're going to fucking bust.

'Yes, I think so.'

'You think so?' She grunts, slightly pissed off. 'You let another man fuck your girlfriend, because you don't do it right.'

You nod.

'Don't just fucking nod,' she commands. 'Say it.'

'I,' you stutter.

'I?'

'I have to let another guy fuck my,' you start, but she cuts back in again.

'No, let's try it another way. You don't let anything, you're not in control. You don't decide, you're not in power and you're not the one calling the shots.'

You nod again, almost in fear of her.

'A bigger, better man fucks your girl,' she cries, grinding her body against yours and making your dick leak helplessly.

'A bigger, better man fucks my girl,' you repeat.

'Because he's got a big, black cock and you don't.'

'Because he's got a big, black cock and I don't.'

'Because he makes me cum,' she moans lewdly, 'over and over again. Something you can never do.'

'Because he makes you cum,' you obey. 'Because I could never.'

'Good boy,' she purrs.

'Honey, mommy,' you warn her. You're about to cum in your pants.

'Oh, slow down baby. I'm not quite done with you yet. Don't you want to know what happened?'

She's taken her dress off by now, wearing nothing but her panties and it's driving you insane. You're losing it, and she hasn't even told you about her black lover yet.

'Touch me, sweetie,' she chants, like she's weaving a spell.

You do as you're told, and you run your hands down her shoulders. Down her back, closer and closer to her round ass.

'This body? This body,' she sighs. 'He fucked this body, sweetie. Hard and fast, then slow and deep. He made this body feel things like you can't even picture in your wildest dreams. He used me, fucked me and ruined me.'

'With his big, black cock?'

'With his big, black cock,' she laughs out loud. 'Big it was, and black too,' she goes on, like spelling out a filthy fairy tale. 'He's, I don't know,' she breaks you. 'Four times bigger? Five? Don't really know, doesn't really matter.'

'Oh, fuck,' you grit your teeth. Every time you think you're about to pop, she takes you a little closer. Closer and closer to the edge.

'Seriously, cuckie,' she grins. 'He's huge, and he made me remember.'

You feel it coming. You feel your balls tighten and your cum churning and burning. It's going to happen. There's just no fighting it. You let your hands roam further, farther and down her ass. You feel her warm, soft skin.

'That's right cuckie,' she moans. 'He grabbed my hips, my ass and slammed into me. Over and over, and over again. He fucked me so deep, spanked me hard and made me say the filthiest things. He made me sing for it, he made me hit those notes.'

'Oh, fuck,' you grunt. 'Fuck, fuck.'

'That's right, cuckie,' she repeats. 'He fucked your girl. He fucked your girl with his big, black cock. He fucked your girl with his big, black cock and she loved every fucking second of it. He fucked your girl with his big, black cock and she loved it so much,' she cries into your face, 'she might never fuck your little dick again, cuckie.'

I'm getting more and more impulsive. It's Monday morning, early morning and I'm back to blacked porn right after waking up. I can't help it. I feel horny, dripping wet and I need to see what I'm missing out on. I need to watch white girls like me get fucked by big, black cocks.

I dream about it. I wake up, thinking about it. I touch myself, rub myself and pull a stupid face while I cum to black men fucking white girls. I cum, watching white girls cum on big black cocks. I cum, get myself together and start over again. It's immature, I know. I should get up, do something. Get ready for school, but I can't. I have to cum to big, black cock. Once I do, I can't stop. I can't just cum once. I have to cum again.

It's breaking my body, my mind and my appetites. It's making me crazy. Right after cumming for the third time, I text my boyfriend. He's going to have to meet me in a secluded spot at school this afternoon. What for? I'm just going to push him to the floor, straddle his head and ride his face. He's going to lick me. I will make him, and if he struggles I'll hold him down by his wrists and force him to eat my pussy. I need it. I want it. I won't take no for an answer.

Why? Because I can't stop thinking about big, black cock. Can't stop thinking about the encounters I've had and the black boys I've fucked. Their size, their stamina and their sheer will to fuck me. To toss me around, grab me and pump me full of strong nut. To breed me, make me plead and stretch me. Fuck me, really fuck me.

I want those days back. Meeting black boys right after school. Letting them do things to me, things my parents would probably kill them for. Letting them touch me, kiss me. Lick me, grope me and fuck me. Letting those strong, black kings do whatever they want to me.

'Baby, I have to get ready,' she moans between kisses. 'This was just to say goodbye,' she adds.

You know it's true. She's running late, for a date. Not with you, but with someone else.

'Honey, stop,' she giggles. Her lips taste so fucking good, and her warm body is making you very hard.

'Do you have to go?' You ask.

She just laughs and leans in for another kiss, before she ruffles your hair.

With unexpected force, she grinds into your lap. Sensually, consciously. You let out a pathetic moan, because even with layers and layers between your dick and her warm wet pussy you're struggling to hold on. 'Fuck,' you gasp.

'See? This is why I have to go, sweetie,' she explains. 'If I keep this up for another fifteen seconds, you're just going to blow and make sticky mess.'

You sigh, defeated.

'It's not like I don't love a sticky mess,' she teases, 'but you know why I have to go.'

You can't say it. Not out loud.

'Tell me,' she commands.

'Do I have to?'

'Don't make mommy ask again, little boy,' she asks, seriously. There's a look of lust in her eyes, with the slightest shade of evil.

'You have to go, because,' you struggle.

'Because?'

You can't admit it. You can't admit your own failure.

'Because he fucks me so much better,' she fills in the gaps for you, shattering your confidence. 'Because he's bigger, better and stronger. Lasts forever, knows what to do and makes me cum.'

You feel miserable, but also turned on. You feel rejected, but you're also about to cum in your pants.

'He. Makes. Me. Cum,' she repeats.

You whimper and the look on your face tells her how small you feel.

'Honey, honey,' she coos. 'It's all right, come here.'

She lets you touch her some more, kiss her some more. You feel her warm body, her curves and her hot skin. You feel her heartbeat and her perfect breasts.

'You're a good boy for mommy, I know.'

'Yes, yes,' you whisper.

'I know, I know.'

You try your luck, and you pull her top down.

She smiles. 'Go on, good boy. Go on.'

'Yes?'

She smirks. 'If you mean, mommy can I please undress you and suck on your milkers until you tell me to eat your pussy?'

You're literally seconds from cumming.

'Then, yes,' she moans. 'Go on, sweetie.'

It takes every ounce of willpower not to blast off. You have to make this last, and you do. She lets you lick her nipples, suck them and play with them. You're in heaven, but it's nothing compared to the moment she pushes your head down.

'Good boy, good boy,' she repeats and shuts her eyes.

You pull her pants down, move in position and taste her. For the first time this week, she actually lets you eat her pussy. She's amazing, she's everything. She's your mistress, your goddess and your one true love. You lick and suck, lap and eat. You do everything in your power to make her cum.

'Keep going, don't stop little boy,' she starts panting. 'Good boy, good boy,' she repeats.

You can tell she's about to cum, and she's increasingly honest about it.

'You know why I have to go, don't you good boy?' She pants, humping your face and covering your lips in her sweet juice. 'You know why he's so much better, don't you?'

You groan a muffled agreement. You can't stop now, you have to make her cum the only way you know how.

'Because he's bigger,' she humps. 'Because he's better,' she moans. 'Because he's got a big, black cock,' she cries out and starts cumming on your face.

She grabs the back of your head and pushes you in deeper, forcing you to make out with her soft warm pussy.

'Fuck, fuck,' she chants, riding that high. 'He's so big, honey. So black, so perfect,' she cums.

'Because he's got a,' she lets go of your head now.

You slowly pull away. Your face is covered in her, and your inadequate dick is throbbing in your pants.

'Because he,' she says, weakly.

'Because,' you try.

She opens her eyes and looks straight at you. 'Say it.'

'Because he's got a big, black cock,' you confess. 'Because he's everything I'm not, and he can do everything to do you that I'm incapable of.'

Once again, she's broken you. Totally and completely. 'Mommy's so proud of you,' she whispers. 'So, so proud.'

'Because he has skill and stamina, size and girth. Because big, black cock is what you deserve.'

She just nods a few times, then kicks you from the couch. She stands up, and waltzes off to get dressed for her date. Her date with a big, black man who's ten times better than you.

You feel your dick's still about to burst. About to explore in your pants.

'Good boy?' She calls from the other room. 'You know what we discussed earlier, don't you?'

'Yes,' you almost cry with despair.

'And?'

'I'll be a good boy and not touch it.'

'And?'

'I won't cum until mommy says I'm allowed,' you groan, driven mad with desire.

Today was surprisingly eventful, for a number of reasons. No, before you think it. No big, black cock. Not yet, unfortunately. What happened is my boyfriend said he bought me a cute red dress, and my ex boyfriend decided to text me. Finally. After like half a year, to say he wants to talk and apologise for the way he left things. That's basically his way of saying he'll buy me tea at the train station, to make up for my walking in on him pumping a bucket of nut inside his thirty-something neighbour. Yes, that's what happened. No joke. I get why big, black cock's something I should get used to sharing? But not with her, and he could have at least asked before he dicked down that fat bitch.

I don't know, but the dress and my ex boyfriend got me thinking. The dress is sexy, and it's perfect with this black lingerie my boyfriend hasn't seen yet. Then again, my boyfriend is white and cums in minutes. My ex is big, black and he'd rip that black lace right from my pale skin just to pound me until I can't quit shaking. Sue me and I'm probably a terrible person, but I just can't imagine my boyfriend giving me the same treatment my ex would. Especially not, if I show up in that red dress with a black set underneath.

It's just, that combination's supposed to set a guy off you know? Drive him wild, literally. Make it so he charges at me, manhandles me and plows me to kingdom come. Fucks me. Breeds me. Covers my mouth to muffle the moans, and goes even deeper when I'm visibly cumming my brains out. Like, my ex? You know? Not my white boyfriend. He's cute, but. He's cute. He's not a god in the bedroom, and he licks like an angel but he's not the big dick demon my black ex is. So, yes. Sue me, but I thought about it today.

What did I think about exactly? Nothing special. Just inviting my boyfriend over to have that talk and let him apologise, before bringing up a certain arrangement. Involving a red dress, black lingerie and dripping wet soft pink needy pussy. Sorry, let myself go there. It's true, though. If I end up seeing my ex again, damn right I'm going to soak my panties. My body's just going to give in and scream at me from inside, fuck this guy. Get that big, black cock. If it's the last time with him so bet it, but let him ravage your white body until you're covered in cum.

Would be hot too, wouldn't it? Surprising my ex like that. Showing up dressed so well, like a good little girl. Only to basically ask him to fuck me on the spot, because I need that dick and my boyfriend's too sweet and too small to give it to me right.

You probably think I'm a cheating, slutty cunt. Well, I can be. Sorry, but what's a girl to do? If we boil it down to the bare bones, it's a simple as this. Imagine you're me. You haven't been fucked right in weeks, you're aching for an endless string of full body orgasms and you have the chance right in front of you. Would you pick a sweet boy who worships you, licks your pussy like it's his last dinner but can't reach those perfect spots deep inside? Wouldn't you prefer to fuck a man who's beyond equipped and experienced in turning you into a mindless, senseless doll?

All I know, is I'm already kissing my ex in my mind. That's to say, I'm already picturing his hands on me and his tongue in my mouth. His breath going ragged, because he's dying to fuck me too. His body tensing, because he'll be wanting to creampie this white pussy. His heart pounding and his fingers clawing at my dress, because he knows he deserves my warm wet peach.

The more effort I put into these posts, the more I think about black guys and my attraction to them. It's almost scientific, at this point. I pick apart my fantasies, my experiences and my memories. The times I've been with black men, the encounters I've had and the amazing orgasms they've given me. Something I noticed this morning, for example? I love the way black men treat my body. With white boys, it's always been more of a personality thing I guess. White boys are more into talking, holding hands and bitching about politics. Black men? They treat me like a woman, very early on. They want to fuck me, pound me and destroy me. Be intimate with me, make me cum and leave me speechless. That's more or less the basis for my interactions with black guys, as opposed to white boys.

Is that primal? Yes, I think so. Is it base? Yes, fuck yes. Is it normal? Well, perhaps we've been conditioned to be kind of sexless? With white boys, there's such an emphasis on wasting time and talking. With white boys, I just feel like they're trying to do a lot of things all at once while postponing and maybe even forgetting about fucking altogether. There doesn't seem such a hurry, while my body wants it. White boys just don't seem to want to rush me at all, while my pussy is aching for attention. Black guys respond to what I need, what I want and what I love. They're able to give it to me, and it shows by how they approach me.

My last post might have led some people to believe that I didn't get with any black guys last summer, but to be totally honest that's not entirely true. Seems I've drawn some attention as well, since my last post. What you boys do with this information is up to you of course, I'm just here to vent and share. Maybe cash in some encouragement, and explore! You see, last summer I did get with a black guy. In a way. Sort of. Just couldn't help myself, really. I was relaxing on a sunny day, by a lake and with few people around. Well, at some point I just looked up from tanning and there was this black man standing there. Tall, dark and strong. Really strong, no joke. He was fit. Exceptionally fit. Turns out he was there to work out, too. You know, my boyfriend was nowhere around. I hadn't masturbated in two or three days, either. You probably know where this goes.

Kind of sad summer's over. Why? Because of the weather, of course. Days by the pool. Tanning, and checking out hot black guys I definitely should have fucked instead of the white boy I was seeing at the time. Oh, what? Did I say that out loud? Sorry, silly me. Just can't help it, you know? Looking back, at all those tall black guys I spotted last summer. Those big, strong men who could fold me over the nearest surface and split me in half. Fuck me into a mess. Fuck, it's making me wet just thinking about it. Then again, if you're a white boy reading this? Chances are it's making you feel funny too. Am I right? Does it make you feel let's say, excited? Hard, maybe? It's fine. I get it. Of course, I get it.

Frustrating though, isn't it? All that tension. Built up. Backed up. Begging for release. I guess that's me, last summer. Stuck with my white boyfriend, and stuck looking at the black hunks I could have had. Fuck, it was so hard on me. I was about ready to burst some days. Really close, you know? So, so close.

Should I have worn something else? To attract those black guys? Something more revealing, more challenging? Who knows, I could have scored. I could have had a black guy make a move on me. Fuck, that would have been too good though. So good, right? Such a good feeling. Maybe he'd have taken me someplace quiet, somewhere secret. Walking my ripe, young body off and away from my white boyfriend. My pussy, dripping in my bathing suit.

Although knowing black guys, he could have just taken me then and there. Right in front of my white boyfriend. Shamelessly, unafraid and convinced he'd be giving me what I needed. Let's face it though, he would be. Definitely. Most assuredly. Fuck, I would have been helpless. Hopeless. Soaking wet, hot and shaking with anticipation. Kind of like some boys might be right now, reading this and pumping it. Pumping it nice and slow though I hope, because I'm not done talking yet.

Just imagine it, though. If you can. If you want to. If you dare? A tall, dominating black guy. Packing the kind of inches I need, and not afraid to kiss me in front of my boyfriend. Fuck, really raping my mouth with his tongue. You know? Hijacking my body, making me feel like I could just drop to my knees and suck him off. Make him feel good, make him cum. Who knows? My white boyfriend could have just enjoyed it, too. Watched. Waited. Pumped it, to losing me to a bigger and better man.

If I had gone through with it, fuck it if I hadn't stopped there. That's right honey, don't stop. Keep going. Yes, that's what I would have done. One black guy done, looking for another. One unforgettable fuck, right onto the next. Once I have a taste you know, it's hard to let go!

Right, because I didn't spot just one black king last summer. I saw so many. So many big, black cocks I could have had. So many amazing, mind boggling orgasms. So much cum, so much dick. I'm a nasty, naughty kind of girl. Aren't I? Such a slut. I know. But if you didn't like it, you wouldn't have made it this far. If you didn't love this, it wouldn't have made you as hard as you probably are. As desperate. As close.

What can I say? Black guys just shut down my mind. Override my systems. Flick my switch and push my buttons. They make me wet, my nipples hard. My body on fire, and my pussy aching for the right treatment. That perfect treatment, slow and steady. Hard and fast, then slow and steady again. Up and down. In and out. Make me cum, and please don't stop.

Fuck, have I been talking this long? Sorry, sorry. You must be growing really tired of it, by now. Really anxious for me to finish, right? Really, really close to giving up and letting go. Well, it's a small comfort that while summer's over there's still plenty of black studs out and about. I could see one tomorrow, even. In the street, on the train. In a shop, or in my room. My room? Just kidding, sorry. Got carried away, I guess. But not you, right? No, don't get carried away. Almost, but not yet. Almost, sweetie. Hold on.

Woke up this morning, after some pretty graphic dreams about black guys. It's really getting to me, ever since I started this blog. I don't know, it's not like I didn't act out before. Because, I did. It's just, maybe I'm scared I'll go back to that behaviour? I'm talking about the irresponsible, fucking every black guy in sight behaviour. The reason my dad got so angry at me, for being a stupid little bitch that just stopped thinking as soon as a black boy showed interest. But, can I really help it? I'm remembering, now. All those afternoons with black tutors. Black boys from school. Black guys at the pool, black guys at the clubs I was too young to go to and black teachers. The list goes on.

It's not entirely my fault, I believe. When a black guy looks at me a certain way, like he's reading my thoughts? What can I do? He knows I want it. I know I want it. He knows that I know, and our bodies just respond. He gets hard, until he can think of nothing else but breeding my tight pink pussy. I get wet, until I can think of nothing else but him fucking me and making me embarrass half the neighbourhood with my moans.

Long ago, there was a princess. Little white girl, blonde and sweet. Wanted something bigger, better. Wanted a forbidden treat. Little white girl made a wish, and somehow her wish did come true. One day out of nowhere, came a big bad black man in her room.

Not like all those white boys, she was used to fucking from before. No, this big bad black man took her. Seized her roughly, with such force! Squeal she did, then giggle loudly. Made her wet and made him hard. Grab her he did, strong and manly. Dominant. Excited. Proud.

First he kissed her, touched her boy. Made her eyes roll in her head. Swept her off her feet, tongues twisting. Inching closer to the bed. Never had she met a guy, so skilled and sure. Forbidden fun. Never had she kissed a real man, confident he'd make her cum.

When he kissed her, sensually. With wild abandon, eagerly? She turned not into frog or witch, but into one hot horny bitch. Yes, he owned her. Ripe and ready. She surrendered, meekly too. Desperate, in sweet submission. Fuck, what would he put her through?

Every time I see my boyfriend, he asks the same questions. How are you feeling? Did you eat? So sweet, so cute. Did you sleep well? I always sleep well, but he insists on asking. He's so caring, so kind. Did you have a good dream? Gulp. Big gulp, because it's usually a very good dream. Huge gulp, because my dreams are usually not about him. Not really. The answers I give him, well I've got to get creative sometimes.

You always look so peaceful when you sleep, my boyfriend tells me. When he stays the night, he gets to see me like that of course. So peaceful, totally safe and so very adorable. What do you dream about? Well, boyfriend. How shall I put it? Seriously, sometimes he almost corners me with the questions he fires my way. Was I in your dream? Were we together? Was there anything different about you? Anything different about me?

Well, sort of? We weren't exactly together, together. I had, shall we say. Highlights! Done something with my hair. Really? Yes, really. Was there something different about you, boyfriend? Most definitely. You were big, black and dangerous. Rich, strong and dominant. You made me wet, just by looking at me. Made me want you, just by standing there. Fuck, I was horny beyond belief and I wanted to cum on your big black cock all day and all night. Yes, there was lots different about you. Better question would have been, what was the same? Well, nothing really. A white boy like you just doesn't compare. Sorry, but it's the truth. Since we're discussing dreams and the subconscious, why lie?