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My name is Ann and I am a doctor. Not the kind of doctor you think of normally, I am what is called a MD, PhD. I am a researcher. My specialty is Psychology. My sub-specialty is Human Sexuality. Growing up, I was always very sexual. When I went to med school, I met a doctor that was one of my professors. He encouraged me to study what interested me, which was sex. Little did I know that I would eventually marry him after graduation. Thankfully, my husband is very sexual and up for anything. As I studied different sexual fetishes, I would find myself wanting to try them. I often came home and sprung some pretty kinky stuff on him. Luckily, he is always up for something new. We had tried almost everything at least once. We even tried multiple partners successfully.
My thesis in med school concerned a theory that I had been thinking about for years. I believe that great sex is 95% mental and only 5% physical. Almost everyone can get off by rubbing themselves to the point of release but the mental run up to that release is what makes it great. I did a year long study for my thesis and then presented it. It got mixed reviews as I went to a southern medical school and the people reviewing my works were deeply religious. They were extremely uncomfortable with some of the activities I studied. I still graduated and then proceeded to look for a job in research.
I applied for and received a government grant to study sexual deviations in relation to health care. In other words, how many times do people go to the hospital because they did something sexual that hurt them and what was it costing the government to fix it. The grant chose five locations that I would have to get my data from. The first was Lexington, Kentucky. We lived in Dallas, so I needed to travel and be away from my husband for a month. As it turned out there is a massive level 1 trauma hospital in town. The hospital arranged for me to do some research utilizing their patients. It had been a few years since I had done primary research and I was excited to do it.
When I arrived, I met with the administrator of the hospital. She said that she was assigning me to the emergency department (ED). She said that most people that entered the hospital come through the ED, so this would be a perfect place to start. We walked down to the ED and she introduced me to one of the medicine attendings, named Paul. He was a tall muscular, and very well put together, black man. He reached out his hand and gave me a firm handshake. I explained what I was researching, and he smiled, then laughed and told me that I had come to the right place. He said that the ED was constantly dealing with crazy sexual issues. He told me to follow him and when something popped up, he would hook me up.
It did not take long before a patient came in with a potato stuck in his rectum. They took him to surgery to remove it. Paul told me that I should go see him after he recovered. The patient told me that he had “fallen in the garden” and the potato accidently entered his rectum. By the time the day ended, we had seen another person with a shampoo bottle in their rectum. We also saw a man that had gotten hit by a car while riding his bike. When he arrived in the ED, the ED docs tried to put him in the MRI, to scan for injuries. They cut off his clothes and they saw he was wearing a metal chastity cage. They asked him if he had the key and he said his mistress had it. They told him they had to cut it off and he begged them not too. He said that she would punish him severely if they did. They cut it off. This seemed to be a target rich environment.
After the shift was done, Paul asked me if I had dinner plans. I told him I was totally open to some good food. He told me to meet him at a restaurant called OBC. It took just a moment to get there. When I arrived, Paul was already waiting for me. We sat down and he asked if I had ever had bourbon. I admitted that I had not, and he told me I was in for a treat. The restaurant had a huge selection of bourbon. Paul asked the waitress to bring us shots of five of their best bourbons. He lined them up and told me to try each, then to give him my opinion on each.
I lifted the first one to my lips and tossed it down my throat. Holy shit, my eyes watered and I nearly choked. Paul howled in laughter. He told me that I was supposed to sip it, not throw it back like tequila. I took me a second to catch my breath. He asked me what I thought. It was strangely hot, then had a nice after taste, almost chocolate. Over the next three hours, we dined on honey glazed bacon, amazing steaks, and more bourbon than I could count. While we enjoyed each other’s company, I asked Paul what his fetish was. He smiled canlı bahis şirketleri and said he was not going to say. Paul told me that I could not handle his fetish. Plus, he did not want to be one of my Guinee pigs. I continued to press but he held firm. Paul quizzed me the rest of the night about my fetishes. I told him about my husband and how open he was to all kinds of sexual experiences. The people around us kept staring. I think my constant talk about sex was freaking them out a bit. Plus, Paul was getting very flirty and I was not stopping him. I have a thing for good looking Black men. I dated quite a few in undergrad. I enjoy their confidence, the way they control their women and the way they treated me.
As, the evening finished, Paul looked at me and said I was in no shape to drive back to my short-term rental. I agreed and told him I would get an Uber. He told me that he would drive me home and make sure I got home safely. Paul asked me what the address was of my place and I drew a total blank. I had only been in town a short time. I could not remember where I was staying. He said, never mind and drove me to his place. His place was very nice, with beautiful decorations. He seemed to have great taste. Paul went to the bathroom. I decided to entertain myself with a walk around his house. I walked from room to room and checked out the place. I ended up in Paul’s bedroom and flopped onto the bed. Paul searched for a bit then found me laying there.
He looked down at me. Again, I pleaded with him to tell me what his fetish was. Paul said nothing and walked to his nightstand and opened the draw. He returned to me and told me to sit up. As I did, he placed a silk blindfold over my eyes. I let out a sly little, oooh, I guess I am about to find out. He then placed a collar around my neck, then quickly stripped me of my clothes. Paul’s big hands then pulled me to the center of the bed. I asked him what he was doing. He said nothing but instead placed one finger over my lips. A few seconds passed before I felt him applying wrist restraints, then ankle restraints. He then pulled them tight until I was completely bound to the bed like a human starfish. Again, I let out a sly, oooh, I like this.
I listened as Paul got undressed, wondering what was next, then I felt his presence between my legs on the bed. For a moment, nothing happened, then his long, warm tongue danced across my breast. It made me jump at first, but I wiggled to give him a good angle. Paul’s hands began to explore my body along with his tongue. As he did, I felt my pussy getting wet. Paul’s tongue and lips kissed every inch of my body and it felt fantastic. He had me so horny I could not stand it. Then Paul sat up and positioned himself between my legs. He asked me to show him my wedding ring. That seemed strange but I twisted my hand to show him my large diamond. Paul then asked me if I had a husband at home waiting for me. I said yes. He asked me if I loved my husband and I said yes. Then I felt Paul place the tip of his hard cock on my labia.
Paul slowly rubbed the tip up and down. It felt amazing. He then very slowly began to enter me. He was thick, thicker than I had had in years. However, thankfully he was slowly pushing it into my wet hole. My body began quickly adjusting to the girth. Paul asked if I liked it. I moaned, yes. Inch by inch he continued. It seemed to be a foot long. Finally, I felt his balls touch my ass. Paul asked me what I wanted. I told him that I wanted to be fucked hard. Paul asked if my husband had a cock like his. I shook my head no. Tell me again what you need from me, he asked. I need you to fuck me hard Paul, was my response. Suddenly, I felt him lift my ass off the bed and shove what felt like a foam wedge beneath my ass. It changed my pussy’s position so that he could directly see his cock going in and out of me. It also allowed him what seemed like another two inches of stroke.
Paul grabbed my waist with his strong hands and began to thrust. He took long strokes, that increased with force and depth. Suddenly I felt him bottoming out inside me. It felt like the head of his huge cock was crashing into my cervix. I had never felt that before. I could see nothing, everything that was happening in darkness. I could only feel Paul and not see him, and it felt amazing. As he pounded me, I moaned loudly. Soon I was begging him to take me, use me. This only made him fuck me harder. Paul asked me if my husband fucked me like this, I breathlessly yelled no. He asked if I liked black cock. I responded with, FUCK YES. He fucked me for what seemed like an hour. His rigid cock rubbed my G-spot perfectly, resulting in multiple internal orgasms. Each one canlı kaçak iddaa intensified by being tied securely to the bed. The feeling of total submission to Paul was erotic and I wanted it to never end.
Finally, I sensed that he was about to cum. He asked me what I needed. I responded. I told him that I needed his cum inside me. Then I begged, PLEASE. A split second later I felt his cock pulsing inside me, then a flush of warmth enveloped my belly. As Paul orgasmed, he sat straight up and let out a low growl, like an animal about to fight. The feeling was out of this world. Even though, I was drunk on bourbon, I knew that this had been an amazing sexual experience. Paul took his time and gently removed his cock from my now gaping pussy. For a moment, things got quiet, then he asked me what I had inside me. I said it was his warm cum and it felt wonderful. He asked me if I wanted to fuck my husband now with my pussy full of his cum. If you want me to, was my response. Paul then pushed some more. Paul asked me if my husband liked getting sloppy seconds. I told him that my husband will only get sloppy seconds if I tell him they are sloppy seconds. Paul laughed loudly and called me a slut. I respond by telling him that I was a Black cock cum slut. Paul untied me, then removed my blindfold. I curled up into his body and kissed him deeply and fell asleep.
The next morning, I awoke with a head full of concrete. I had not had a hangover like that in years. I got up and walked to the kitchen and made some coffee. As it was brewing, I looked for my cell phone. Each morning when I am away, I call my husband and we talk about the previous day. It took me forever to find it. When I found it, it was on the floor next to the bed. I swiped the screen, and nothing happened. I assumed it was dead and needed a charge. Out of shear dumb luck, I hit the power button. It buzzed in my hand and came alive. That was strange, I thought. I am not sure I have ever shut my phone off. As it booted up, it buzzed, then buzzed again, the there was a furious twenty or thirty buzzes. I swiped the screen to find about 40 text messages from my husband. I did not read any, I just immediately called him, knowing that something terrible must have happened.
He answered on the first ring. I asked him what was wrong. There was a long pause before he asked me if I had a good time last night. I asked why. He again probed me. I told him that I went out to dinner with another doctor and had too much to drink. He then asked if that was all. I asked why. He then asked me if my Black lovers cum was still dripping from my pussy. My heart stopped. What cum, I responded. The warm, Black cum you begged for last night. Everything went black, my heart stopped then raced. My head started spinning. I blurted out I was sorry, I was drunk, it meant nothing. My husband stopped me and told me not to apologize, just to be quiet and listen. I knew what I was about to hear was going to be bad. I began to tremble and cry.
My husband started by saying, when he first saw the video, he was pissed. So pissed, that he wanted to drive to Lexington and kill us both. However, he watched the video a second time, then a third. As he did, he found himself aroused. In fact, he said that he watched it many times until finally he jerked off twice to it and then dreamed about it after he fell asleep. There was a pause. What video, what fucking video did you watch, I thought. I asked him what video? He responded by saying it was the video I texted him. My husband said, that once he realized that it came from me, on my phone, he assumed that it was one of my typical mind fuck experiments. I sheepishly laughed and told him that I was glad he understood. Shit, I had dodged a huge bullet. I then told him I loved him and cut the call short.
I fell to the floor and searched through my texts until I found the video. Paul had blindfolded me, then had taken my phone and filmed the whole session without me knowing. There I was, laying tied up on the bed. Paul caressing my body, his massive cock at the entrance of my hole. Showing him my wedding ring, flaunting my marriage, knowing I was cheating. It continued, there I was begging for his cock, telling him his cock was thicker, bigger and better than my husbands. Then the camera made a close-up on his thick cock, it pulsing as he shot cum deep inside me. You could see every vein, every muscle throbbing as he injected his seed into my cervix. The video ended with me saying that I would make my husband have sex with my freshly fucked pussy, without telling him it was sloppy seconds.
I was floored, literally. I could not move. I played it again, then again. It was me on that video, canlı kaçak bahis being a slut, begging for another man’s cock inside my happily married pussy. It was so wrong, so taboo. However, it was hot to watch, raw and very sexually charged. The sight of my tight white body being taken by his huge black cock made me wet. I spent about a half hour, watching and re-watching it. How did this happen, I wondered? Finally, I went to the bedroom and found Paul awake and smiling on the bed. He asked me if I had talked to me husband. I reached over and slapped him and called him an asshole. He grabbed my wrist and told me, that only a few hours ago, I was begging for his cock. He said that I seemed confused. He asked me if I enjoyed last night. I said I did. He then asked, if I could have his cock again, would I want it. I looked down. He lifted my chin and asked the question again. Flustered, I said yes. He responded by saying this time, I was going to make the video.
Paul took my phone and turned the camera on and told me to get on all fours on the bed. I did as I was told. He told me to look into the camera and tell my husband I was about to get a big Black cock stuffed inside me again. I looked into the camera and told my husband I was going to have sex with my Black lover for the second time in less that 24 hours. He then told me to tell my husband what I was. I looked into the phone and told my husband that I was a slut for Black cock. Little did I know, I was advertising that fact. I still had the collar around my neck from last night. On it were metal letters that said, “BLACK COCK SLUT”.
Paul appeared behind me on the screen. He rubbed my clit and labia with his hard cock. He told me to tell my husband what I wanted. I looked into the camera and told my husband that I wanted to be fucked by his huge Black cock. I wanted to feel him fill my womb with his potent seed. As I said that, Paul shoved his cock hard and deep inside me. My eyes rolled back into my head. Paul’s strong hands grabbed my waist and he began to pound me hard. The camera moved and swayed with each thrust.
Paul reached down and grabbed the camera from my hand and pointed to his cock. He made it a point to take exceptionally long strokes to be sure my husband understood how big he was. Paul then asked me what I wanted. I told him I wanted to cum on his cock as he came inside me. He reached down and fingered my clit at the same time he assaulted my G-spot. My body began to tremble, I was close. I yelled to him that I was going to cum. Paul turned the camera close to my face and told me to tell my husband what was about to happen. “I’m gonna cum baby. I’m gonna cum on his big Black cock.” He turned the phone to face him and he looked into the camera and told my husband that I was a freaky bitch and he loved fucking my tight pussy. Hearing him say that set me off on a powerful orgasm. Knowing that my husband would see this raced through my mind. The taboo of it was overwhelmingly erotic. As I orgasmed on his rigid weapon, he pounded my pussy as hard as he could. Then I heard the same growl I had heard the night before. His body stiffened as he unloaded again, into my waiting cervix. All the while he filmed every thrust of his hard cock pumping his hot seed inside my womb.
He pulled his cock out of me then placed the camera up close to my pussy. Paul called my husband by name as he showed his cum beginning to leak slowly out of my gaping hole in a slow-motion cream pie. He then pushed me onto the bed and with one hand spun me around. My head was below his now drooping cock. He picked up his cock and placed it on my lips and told me to clean it up. I instinctively took it into my mouth and danced my tongue around his amazing pole. Warm ribbons of salty cum oozed from the tip. I greedily sucked it down. Paul filmed the whole thing. At one point, he turned the camera back to himself and asked my husband If I ever sucked his cock after they fucked. He also asked my husband if he was going to enjoy kissing those lips after this. Once I finished, he shut the camera off.
Within seconds he had texted it to my husband. I grabbed the phone and told him to stop. He said it was too late and laughed. I asked him why he did what he did. He said that I kept pressing him about his fetish and that I would not give up. So, he decided to show me. He loved cuckolding white husbands. That was his fetish, taking white women from their husbands and turning them into Black cum sluts. My head was spinning, but once again my pussy was tingling. Then my phone buzzed, it was my husband.
I looked down at the phone. The text read, “You are such a slut and that’s why I love you so much. Tell him that I will not only kiss you on the lips, I will gladly take his sloppy seconds. Have fun!” My heart skipped a beat. My husband was ok with this, he actually enjoyed it. I showed Paul the text. He kissed me and then whispered; we have a lot of fucking to do this month.
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