At the age of 25, I was the youngest woman in company history to become a senior developer for a major real estate firm. We were in the process of buying some land in a lower-class part of the city, but unfortunately, one particular unit on the land we wanted was inhabited by some street thugs that were being belligerent about leaving. They weren’t being irrational – a lot of the tenants living in the government housing complex were single parents with low incomes. The thugs that confronted us about taking their homes away were intimidating, but had a valid point.
My Fiancée Wasn’t Comfortable with Me Visiting a Wigger Thug in His Government Housing Unit
My company was going to make a monetary offer to the residents of that building to vacate the premises. Where they went was not our concern, we just wanted them off the property, so we could purchase the land and begin construction on it. I invited some of those residents to my office to discuss the matter and address any concerns they had. On that day, I met Scoopz – a stocky, bearded white guy in his early twenties who seemed (and smelled) high, and Dougie – a tall white kid with the body of a linebacker who dressed and talked like a wigger. I came in ready to make these thugs understand the situation and hoped to come to a compromise, but the moment I laid eyes on Dougie, my legs wobbled. I was taken with him. He was really hot. When I shook his thick, football-sized hand, my own felt like a baby’s in his. He was physically the complete opposite of the nerdy bank teller I was soon to wed.
Surprisingly, the meeting went professional, and Dougie and I really hit it off. There was no hostility whatsoever. Dougie invited me to his place to check out the property. Seeing that I was free, I agreed, as the sooner we got this particular property issue sorted out, the sooner this deal would be completed.
My fiancée seemed apprehensive about me visiting a house in that part of town, being a girl who looked like I did (I kept myself in shape, and though I had big tits, I was modestly dressed. My blond hair was curvy and stretched down to tease my cleavage). He insisted on coming with me to visit Dougie and the boys, but I told him not to for two reasons. The first was that he would look so puny surrounded by men like the thugs that resided there, and the second was that I really wanted to see Dougie again, and didn’t want the old “ball and chain” around.
When I rang the doorbell, Dougie answered it with a smile, and we shared a hug that seemed inappropriate for two people who had only met. Dougie showed me around the house, introducing me to five guys, most of which seemed high. The house reeked of pot, so naturally, there was a peaceful, mellow vibe in the environment. I couldn’t stop sneaking quick peeks at Dougie, marveling at how he was the total contrast of my fiancée – big, stocky, cute, confident, assertive, and tough. My eyes saw more of his body than the unit he was showing me, and he knew it. I wondered if he could tell how wet I was just looking at him, or the mini-orgasm I had when we hugged.
We made our way to the kitchen, making small-talk over a beer. I stayed close to Dougie, to the point where I could smell him. I felt comfortable with his arm around my waist while several of his friends joined us for a drink. At times, I caught myself studying Dougie. He was being so sweet towards me, yet there was an intimidating presence around him. He seemed like the kind of guy you wouldn’t want to fuck with.
I Wondered If the Wigger Thug Knew I had a Mini-Orgasm When He Greeted Me with a Hug
I pondered all of this as I used his bathroom, returning to the kitchen, and leaning against the counter. As I took a sip of my beer, Doug approached me with a grin on his face. He and I were face to face, his body bullying mine, and I was unable to escape with both of his thick arms at my sides. I should have been scared or offended, but instead, I grinned back at him, and before I knew it, his big football-sized hands were holding my ribs. I wrapped my arms around his neck and moved my face closer to his. The wigger’s lips were thick, and his trimmed goatee tickled my smooth skin. The stubble on his cheeks was barely visible since he was a dirty blond, but his cheeks were baby-soft. I was analyzing every aspect of this incredible stud while I kissed his lips and tasted the sweat off his neck. I was so caught up in the moment that I hadn’t realized how swiftly Dougie buried his face between my tits. I moaned and cocked my head back as his thick thumb traced the outside of my pussy. I hadn’t had sex with my fiancée in a while, but even when I did, let’s just say it was easy for my pussy to remain tight. Dougie’s index finger alone was bringing me to the point of orgasm. His thick finger slid inside of me and tickled my clit, while his thumb rubbed the lips of my pussy. He was making me so wet, and I knew he was in the process of opening me up for something bigger.
Before I knew it, my back was on his old, dirty kitchen table, with dirty cereal bowls and juice glasses smashing on the floor to make way for my withering body. I squirmed like I was trying to get away as the white thug’s big dick made its way into me, but his strong body kept mine in place. Even if I wanted to, I wasn’t going anywhere. The table shook and made a commotion as Dougie manhandled me on top it, particularly since its legs were uneven. I was experiencing things internally I had never felt before, having orgasms I only heard my friends talk about. At that moment, I truly did not care that the thug shoving his beer-can-thick cock in and out of my freshly shaved pussy was a stranger only a short while ago.
A crowd had gathered in the kitchen to watch Dougie fuck the shit out of me on his filthy kitchen table. He wasn’t passionate or a gentleman when it came to sex. He fucked me roughly, but without hurting me. He was bullying me around with his body like an amateur wrestler does with his opponent. I was twisted from my back to my side, and eventually, the wigger thug cock-walked me from the table to the chair, then to the counter, so he could get me into the doggie position, standing up. I liked to think of myself as a strong, independent woman, but at that moment, Dougie was in charge, and I was following his lead.
I lost count of a number of orgasms I had, and started to come back down to reality when Dougie pulled out and splattered his load all over me. I think he was aiming for my tits, but so much cum spewed out of his big dick that half of it covered my lips. Dougie whipped out his cell from the back pocket of his jeans, which were still around his waist, and took a picture of the mess he made of me, his thick gooey jizz dripping down to my freshly fucked pussy. After taking a picture, this brute of a thug assured me that my face was cropped-off, giving me a wink to put me at ease.
The guys all went back to their rooms, thanking Dougie for the show with fist bumps and high-fives. I was so lost being on the business-end of Dougie’s big dick that I was oblivious to the guys chanting and howling for their wigger-roommate during our power-fuck. None of them seemed to have any of their phones out, which I was thankful for.
The big thug cock-walked me from the table to the counter, so he could get me into the doggie position.
Dougie put himself together the same time I did and walked me out of his house like a gentleman, which seemed uncharacteristic for a guy like him, and yet that act made me like the thug even more. I walked away from his place feeling awkward and guilty about betraying my fiancée. Was this what the “walk of shame” felt like for taken women?
I didn’t tell my fiancée what happened, but he knew something was up. For the first time ever, he assertively ate my pussy in bed that night. He did it for a while, really eating me out, almost like he was an archaeologist, and his tongue and lips digging deep inside of me. Even though I had showered as soon as I got home, he seemed to be enjoying the taste of whatever Dougie left behind before pulling out, though neither one of us addressed the elephant in the room.
The Wigger Thug Took a Picture of Me Covered in His Cum and Wanted More Money
When I went to work the next morning, my boss was in my office, asking me why “the deal didn’t go through”. Not understanding, I saw, upon reading my emails, that the residents of the complex Dougie and his crew were in rejected the offer my company gave them to vacate the unit they resided in. They wanted more money to leave, and my boss wasn’t willing to hand over the substantial amount they wanted, referring to them as “a bunch of thugs”.
You would think I would have been insulted and used by Dougie, but that would imply that I was using sex as a bargaining chip, and I hadn’t even entertained that. I didn’t let Dougie fuck me to “close a deal”. Also, I was getting wet knowing that, as a result of this negotiating roadblock, I would have to see Dougie again.
My boss told me to resolve this issue by the end of the week, and as he walked out, a text from Dougie appeared on my phone – the picture of my body drenched in his cum appeared in high-definition on my screen, and there was no mistaking that was me in the pic. My face was not cropped out of the picture, so Dougie had lied to me. The image wasn’t accompanied by any text, nor did it have to be. If I didn’t get the boys what they wanted, the picture was going to get out. This was the wigger thug exerting his authority over me.
Once again, you would have thought I would be furious. But I wasn’t. I sat in my office chair and leaned back, touching the outside of my pussy just like Dougie did the previous night. I didn’t want that picture to get out, so I was going to find a way to meet the wiggers’ demands. I got more wet thinking about hand-delivering the money to Dougie myself.