Nick Baker held all the cards in this lawsuit. In his early thirties, he was a rising star in the judicial system of the Big Apple. Across the table from him, Graham Gray sat with a worried look on his face. He was an old acquaintance and the attorney for the opposing side in the case. They had to travel to the state capitol for today's deposition, and probably would not be able to return home until Sunday morning, but everything was working out just great. The settlement in this case would involve millions of dollars. Nick's fees and prestige from winning this case would boost his financial situation and career opportunities. He couldn't help but smile very smugly at Graham as the other attorney desperately pleaded his weak case. Yes, for Nick Baker, life looked pretty good.

Alison Baker stepped out of the shower and patted her tall shapely twenty-five year old body dry with the large soft bath towel. She momentarily gazed at her reflection in the large bathroom mirrors as she finished drying the droplets of water from her beautiful body. Her shoulder length brown hair was pinned up on top of her head to keep it from getting wet during her quick shower. Her eyes were colored like a doe's; large brown pools that shown brightly when she became excited. Her full lips held out the promise of soft kisses and long nights of passion. Her face was one of beauty. Her skin was smooth, soft and white as alabaster. Her large breasts were a source of both pride and embarrassment. When she was a teenager, her breasts were the largest in her class at school. She found it embarrassing that, when boys would carry on a conversation with her, that they almost never looked her in the eye. They had been to busy staring at her enormous boobs. The fact that she was taller most of the boys and that her boobs ended up being right in their faces had only added to her embarrassment. No wonder Alison was still shy around men.

Alison removed the pins from her hair and shook her head a couple of times before picking up a brush and stroking it through her golden mane to remove any tangles. She was standing in front of the bathroom mirror in the nude. Since she was about six-foot tall in her bare feet, her brown pubic bush was visible in the mirror. Alison had always been self-conscious of her body, so she laid the brush down and went into the bedroom to get dressed as soon as she was sure that her hair was laying properly. If a stranger had been able to see into the Baker apartment, they would have appreciated the brunette's beautiful long legs and shapely bottom. Her body was a sex machine that she had never allowed to be used to its full potential. She did not know it, but that was a situation that was about to change.

Alison opened a dresser drawer and selected her lingerie. Plain white silk panties, matching brassiere and a pair of black pantyhose. She slipped the silk garments on with practiced ease. A tastefully stylish black dress and matching low heel shoes completed her ensemble. Being slightly taller than her husband, she rarely wore high heel shoes. She applied a little eye makeup, put on a light coating of lip-gloss, hooked a gold chain with her St. Christopher pendant around her neck and threaded a pair of gold earrings through her earlobes to match her wedding rings. Alison picked up her purse, turned out the light in the bedroom and went down the stairs to the living room.

She made a last minute visual check of everything in the living room just to make sure that everything was in its proper place, before she turned out that light, went out the front door and locked it. Alison pulled her blue convertible out onto the parkway to drive to the airport. Since her husband was out of town, she had invited Clare Collins to visit her from Los Angeles. Clare and Nick did not get along very well, so this was a great opportunity for the two friends to get together since Nick would not be there. The problem was that Clare's flight did not arrive until after midnight. At least it was Friday night and Clare would not have to return to California until the next weekend. This weekend would be like old times for the two friends.

When Alison arrived at the airport, she found out that the flight had been delayed and she had to kill almost an hour and a half. Though Alison rarely drank, there was a seedy looking man that was following her around and giving her the eye, she went into the first open doorway, which was airport lounge. The bartender asked her, "What is your pleasure?" She started to tell him that she didn't want anything to drink, but decided that she would try a margarita. She sipped on the delicious drink as she thought about the friendship that she and Clare had shared, until twenty minutes later when her glass was empty. Alison was thinking of leaving the lounge. The television monitor with the schedules of arrivals and departures showed that she still had almost an hour to kill. That, plus the fact that the weird little man that had been following her, was still standing around outside the bar, caused her to stay and order another margarita when the bartender asked if she wanted a refill.

Alison realized that she should not have had the second margarita as she walked toward the gate where Clare was to disembark from her plane. Alison was just a little tipsy. Clare was one of the last to come out the gate. She was dressed in a red mini dress that emphasized her slim and attractive figure. She wore dark stockings and high heel shoes, as well. The tall thin blonde was still just as beautiful as when she was a teenager. Clare had sampled several of the airline's daiquiris on the flight. She was feeling the effect of her mixed drinks even more than Alison did. They hugged and kissed each other on the cheek. Twenty minutes later, they had Clare's baggage and were leaving the airport. Perhaps, if Alison had been paying better attention to the roadway, instead of trying to listen so intently to Clare's stories, she would have seen the piece of jagged metal laying in the road before it was to late.

Alison's car lurched and the engine stopped almost immediately. The metal in the road had ripped open the oil pain on the blue convertible. Alison barely managed to get the car onto the side of the road before it came rolling to a halt. She switched off the ignition as she and Clare looked at each other. Of all the places for the car to break down, it had to be when the expressway passed through the worst part of town. Alison timidly got out of the car to take a quick look at the oil spill that marked the path that the car had traveled since it had hit the jagged metal bar. She got back in the car and locked the doors.

Alison looked at Clare, smiled and said, "Don't worry, Nick gave me a cellular phone for just such emergencies." She pulled her phone from her purse and tried to turn it on. Her smile disappeared. "Of all the times to have a dead battery!" She cried as she shoved the phone back into her purse. Clare had left her phone back in Los Angeles. Now, she wished that she had brought it with her.

A bus pulled over just a hundred feet or so ahead of them. A man in a gray uniform shirt and pants came back to their car. He was white, in his forties, had black hair and a friendly smile. Alison rolled down her window a couple of inches as he came around to the driver's side of her car. "Good evening, Ladies. I saw the oil in the road and noticed that you were out here alone. It's after two o'clock in the morning and you are not safe in this area. May I offer the two of you a lift?" Alison was reluctant to leave the safety of her car until he told her, "You realize that a convertible has a tent for a roof. It anyone wants inside, all they have to do is cut a hole in the top with a knife." Alison and Clare looked at each other for a few seconds before they both decided to take the nice man's offer.

Alison got her purse and locked the doors of her car. They would call a tow truck as soon as they reached a telephone. The man, who introduced himself as Smithy, carried Clare's bags as they walked toward the bus. Just as they were about to board the bus, Alison noticed that it had the name of a professional basketball team painted on the side. She didn't think much about what the name indicated until she had boarded the bus and saw who the other occupants were. The bus was full of very famous basketball athletes. And, they were all black.

Alison felt very uncomfortable. She would have turned around and left the bus if it weren't for the fact that she was worried that two women, alone on the expressway, at this time of night, may as well have a target painted on them. "Besides," she assured herself, "she and Clare could depend on Smithy for protection." Two of the players moved over to leave one seat next to each empty. Clare sat down next to one of the tall basketball players and smiled prettily at him. Alison meekly sat next to the other player. Smithy sat down in the driver's seat, closed the bus's door, turned off the interior lights, put the bus in gear and pulled back out onto the nearly deserted expressway.

Alison could see that Clare had already started a conversation with her seatmate. Alison glanced sideways at the very tall black man that had shared his seat with her. In the darkened interior of the bus, details were hard to make out, but she could tell that he was rather handsome. Alison had always been taller than the average person. She was even taller than her own husband was. Sitting beside the basketball famous ball player made her feel small. She was already at a disadvantage because of having the two drinks earlier and her auto breaking down. Now, she felt a little physical intimidation because of the tall black man's sheer size.

Alison almost jumped when the man beside her placed his large black hand on her thigh. She looked directly at him for the first time. "How dare he!" She thought to herself as she reached down and pushed his very large hand from her leg. She looked around to see if there was another seat that she could move to. Unfortunately, all the other seats appeared to be used by the sleeping players as they stretched out on them. Alison did not want to ask to be let off the bus. The area that the bus was traveling through still was not safe for two women to be stranded in at this time of night.

Alison looked over at Clare. Perhaps she could come up with a solution to their problem? What she saw shocked her. It was hard to make out the details, but it appeared that Clare and the much taller black basketball player beside her were engaged in an intimate whispered conversation. Alison could not hear them, but could tell that Clare was enjoying herself from the soft sounds of laughter that her blonde friend made as the black man whispered in her ear. The black hand's movement on Clare's thigh caught Alison's eye. Alison's heart almost stopped beating for a moment when she saw the man beside Clare lean down to kiss her blonde friend with his large soft lips.

Alison had not been raised to be racially prejudiced, but seeing her best friend willingly returning the kiss of a tall black man that was a virtual stranger to her, caused her heart to beat a little faster. The streetlights along the expressway illuminated the movements of the stranger's large black hand as it moved up and down the thin blonde's thigh. Alison could not believe her eyes as she saw Clare parting her thighs to let the roving hand have access to her feminine treasures. Hearing Clare moaning was a good indication of where the hand had went after it had disappeared under her skirt.

Alison pressed her thighs together in an effort to suppress the tingling sensations that were emanating from her stiffening clitoris. She had always been embarrassed when her body reacted to sexual situations. Alison had always tried to maintain control and was not comfortable with her body's reactions to sensual stimuli. When she felt the return of the large hand on her own thigh, Alison wanted to remove it again, but sat motionless. It felt as if she didn't have the strength to lift her arms or legs as her hormonal levels reacted to the image of Clare eagerly kissing the tall black man across the aisle and the hand that was now massaging her own nylon covered thigh. She could not even make herself turn away from the scene that was taking place only a few feet from where she sat.

Clare had spread her legs even more for the long thin questing fingers. Clare was not wearing pantyhose. She had told Alison that most men did not find pantyhose to be sexy. Clare was wearing black stockings and a garter belt. Her light skin made quite a contrast to the black nylon of her hose and the large black hand that had moved between her legs and was massaging her vagina through her red panties. Alison watched as the basketball player's other hand slowly unzipped the back of the pretty blonde's red dress. The back strap of a red brassiere could be seen as the dress parted. Clare didn't seem to mind the fact that a large black man was undressing her on a crowded bus as the dress slipped forward on her shoulders. Clare had broken away from the kiss. Alison hoped that she would call a halt to what the ball player was doing to her so that they could stop the bus and get off, but, instead, Clare laid her head against the headrest and closed her eyes. Her seatmate wasted little in unhooking Clare's red brassiere. Alison had not seen Clare's breasts since high school gym class. Although relatively small, at least compared to Alison's D cup breasts, they stood almost straight out and had long thick nipples. Clare made a gasping sound as the man's thick lips encircled a nipple and began sucking on it.

Although Alison had been motionless as she had watched her friend being seduced by the tall black basketball player, her seat companion had been busy. Alison had held her legs together very tightly as he had moved his catcher's mitt sized hand up and down her quivering thigh. Alison tried to ignore the hand and the sensations that were rippling through her beautiful body in the hopes that they would all go away. The hand moved up and down her leg, moving farther north each time, until it was almost completely under the hem of her designer black dress. Alison's clitoris was now tingling far too much to ignore. She shifted in her seat, in a half-hearted effort to move away from the exploring black hand, only to find that she had actually opened herself up to him even more.

Across the aisle, Alison could see that the man had shifted his big lips to Clare's other breast. The nipples, that had just been in his mouth, shone wetly in the dim light and was swollen to over twice its original size. One of the black man's hands was almost buried under the red dress that was draped across the writhing blonde's lap. Her red brassiere lay in the aisle on the floor, forgotten.

Alison's attention was brought back to her own body as she felt the hand under her dress reach the top of her leg. A finger was rubbing the crotch of her pantyhose as the hand rested on her upper thigh. Alison tried to clamp her thighs together to prevent such intimate contact, but only succeeded in trapping the finger against her sensitive mound. He immediately began to wiggle his finger against the moistening crotch of her panties and pantyhose. She experienced what felt to be a maddening itch that she knew could only be scratched by a man. And, the only man currently available was not her husband. Instead, it was a seven-foot tall black man with skin so dark; she could barely make out his facial features on the dimly lit bus.

Clare's cry of delight caused Alison to turn her head toward the couple across the way. The tall black basketball player next to Clare had stood up and his elastic waistband jogging pants was down around his ankles. Standing out in front of him was what appeared to be the radiator hose from her car. It was at least ten inches long and more than two inches thick. Clare's eyes were shining in the dark as she took hold of the awesome black pole with both hands and stroked up and down a few times. "It's magnificent!" She whispered just before she leaned forward and took the head into her wide-open mouth.

The man next to Alison had managed to turn his hand to cover her mound and was now vigorously massaging her sensitive clitoris. Alison pushed back into the seatback as waves of miniature orgasms passed through her body. She was unable to protest as a dark face descended onto hers and thick lips muffled her moans. Her hands tried to push the molesting hand from between her legs, but were ineffectual. The longest tongue Alison had ever encountered snaked into her mouth and probed every recess of her oral cavity. She hardly even noticed as his other hand massaged her D cup breasts. Soon, the sensations were so over powering, Alison reluctantly surrendered to them.

At first, Alison had simply sat there, with her arms at her sides, as the back of her dress was unzipped and pulled down in front. When her white silk brassiere was unhooked and removed, letting her large sensitive breasts bobble in the cool air. A pair of thick suctioning lips was attached to her sensitive nipples; she began a series of climaxes. She was barely aware of when he had pulled the hem of her dress up and slipped his hand down the front of her pantyhose and panties. She was very aware of when his fingers began direct manipulation of her clitoris and began sinking so very deep into her moist slit.

If poor Alison had not had those two margaritas to drink, she might not have ended up in this situation. Just having watched the road more closely, would have prevented this from happening. She lay back against the seat with her eyes looking down at the face of the very tall black man that was sucking her nipples and driving her into a state of uncontrollable sexual heat. A cry from across the aisle caused Alison to look. Clare, now dressed in only her garter belt and nylon stockings, was straddling the basketball player's huge cock as he sat in his seat. Almost half of the black pole had disappeared inside of her friend's belly. Alison could not believe such a huge tool could possibly fit inside of Clare's little vagina. Large black hands gripped the pretty blonde's narrow waist and pulled her all the way down on the huge ebony shaft. Clare wiggled about like a bug stuck on a pin as she came.

The athlete working on Alison pulled her pantyhose and panties down and off in one smooth motion. She was left sitting with her smooth bottom on the rough fabric of the bus seat and her expensive designer black dress wrapped around her waist. She wanted to resist as her legs were pushed open, but the seven-foot basketball player was too strong for her to stop now. He knelt on the floor in front of her and buried his head between her legs. She noticed that his long thick tongue was the size of an ex-boyfriend's cock as it penetrated her wet slit. Try as she might to end the sequence of events, Alison was powerless to stop them. When the thick lips wrapped around her clitoris, she lost any interest in halting the sexual sensations she was now feeling as wave after wave of climaxes passed through her.

Alison was brought to several major orgasms before the seven-foot giant rose up, slipped down his jogging pants and unleashed his gigantic black cock. At first, Alison thought that he held a section of fire hose in his hands. Then, she realized that the massive piece of dark meat was for real. Never in her relatively short life had she even imagined that a penis could become so huge. It was even bigger than the one that must, even now, be tearing up the insides of her best friend. Alison sat, as if hypnotized, as the basketball player that still wore her juices smeared across his face, gripped the under side of her knees, raised them into the air, and guided the uncircumcised end of his huge black dong to the entrance to her femininity.

She wanted to stop him. She wanted to get up and run. She wanted him to stop because she wasn't on the pill. Alison had developed a reaction to the side effects of birth control pills and had stopped taking them. She had, from that time onward, insisted that Nick always wear a rubber. Now, as she felt the baseball bat sized cock head nuzzling around in her dripping vagina, she couldn't find her voice to tell the black man not to have sex with her without using a rubber.

Alison felt a pain in her stretching vagina as the seven-foot black began to lean into her, causing her vagina to expand as the huge round cock head was forced into her under sized vagina. Alison was only able to moan as she felt it slip inside and stretch her opening more than it had ever been stretched before. He realized that she was nearly a virgin. Actually, she was a virgin in the upper recesses of her vagina. He was about to plum those virgin depths with his foot long cock.

By this time, Clare had cum several times and her black stud had filled her stretched out pussy with sperm. She was on the pill, so, had nothing to worry about, as far as becoming pregnant. She once again was sucking on the black cock as she watched Alison out of the corner of her eye. She was amazed at the way her brunette friend was reacting to the advances of the tall black man. Alison had always been so aloof. She didn't think Alison had ever lost control before. And now, the biggest and blackest cock that Clare had ever seen was screwing her married friend. And, Clare had seen many black cocks. Since she had lived in California, she had several black boyfriends. She loved the contrast of their black skin next to her white, naturally blonde skin. She especially loved it when they were as well endowed as these two were.

Alison's universe was centered on her vagina and the telephone pole sized cock that was beginning to stroke in and out of it. She would have had the will power to force her husband to don a prophylactic before he could enter her. But, with this tall aggressive black man, she lay back meekly as his hard black penis was shoved up into her belly without a rubber. Alison lay back on the bus seat as the massive tool forced its way passed the point in her vagina that had been reached by her husband and the couple of white boys she had sex with before she had gotten married. She looked up into the black man's face as he sank his cock into the tight white pussy that was stretched around his black cock.

The black dick would penetrate an extra inch, only to recede an inch or two. Alison could feel her internal organs being pushed out of the way as her belly was filled full of more meat than she had ever thought possible. She was whimpering as the last inch was driven deep into her tummy. She came as soon as she felt the extra course black pubic hair touch her swollen clit. He just knelt there, on his knees, as the sexy white woman shook and wiggled on his buried cock, with a big smile on his face. What made it even more exciting for him was the gleam on the wedding ring set on the ring finger of the beautiful brunette's left hand. He was getting some white man's wife's pussy and he was reaching places in her cunt that he just knew that her husband never would. His balls began to thump up and down as he thought that he might be making her pregnant with his baby. His cum spewed out of his swollen cock in spurt after spurt until he had more than filled the pretty housewife's belly w is potent sperm.

Clare had seen that Alison was practically having convulsions as she orgasmed around the cuming black cock buried in her over stretched vagina. Clare had never liked Nick and found the thought of Alison letting other men fuck her to be sexually stimulating. The big black cock in her mouth had reached full height again. Clare climbed up and sat on it once more, letting herself slide down the wet shiny black shaft until her belly was once again full. She remembered that Alison couldn't take birth control pills, which meant that, in nine months, Alison might present Nick with a surprise. Clare found the thoughts to be so exciting that she began to have a long series of orgasms as she bounced up and down.

The bus had let Alison and Clare off at a taxi stand. They had re-arranged their clothing and went to the bus restroom to freshen up a little. Each of them had swollen vaginas that still dribbled cum into the crotch of their panties as they stepped down from the bus's steps. Smithy had grinned as he said, "You ladies be sure and cum again sometime." He laughed as he closed the door of the bus and drove away. The taxi driver had loaded Clare's bags into the trunk as Alison gently sat down on the back seat of the cab. Clare was accustomed to large black cocks and was not as sore as her married, but innocent friend. She grinned as she thought of making Nick a cuckold. While she was here this week, she decided to make it her goal to see how many different cocks she could arrange to screw Alison. After all, Clare loved screwing as much as any man, and did not see any reason for Alison to go through life feeling differently.

Just before they reached Nick and Alison's apartment, Alison began to cry. Clare fished a napkin from her purse and passed it to her friend. Clare felt sorry for her friend, but knew that Alison would get over such feelings by the third or fourth affair that she had.

Graham had received a phone call and had left the proceedings to return to New York City. He had managed to orchestrate a maneuver that would keep Nick Baker in the state capitol for almost a week. Graham did not have a strong legal case, but he was crafty and conniving. If he could not win a case by ordinary means, he was not dumb enough to let a little thing such as Ethics get in the way. He had assigned his detectives to follow the major players on the opposite side of this case in hopes that he could find something to blackmail them with. Tonight, he may have hit pay dirt.

Graham had Jones, a weasel looking little man following Alison Baker for the last three days. He really had not expected anything to come of the investigation since he and Alison had dated a few times before she had married the smug, Mr. Thinks He Knows It All, Nick Baker, and knew she was to shy to give him an ammunition. Jones had excitedly told him the story of Alison's car breaking down on the expressway, how a bus full of black basketball team members picked her and some blonde bimbo up. What was surprising was that, a little over an hour later, the two women were let out at a taxi stand with their dresses wrinkled and their hair in tangles! Jones swore that they had been fucked!

Jones had taken both still pictures and videotape of the two women. Unfortunately, the pictures would not be incriminating enough to use for blackmail. Graham was driving well above the speed limit as he hurried toward New York City and Alison's apartment. If there were any truth to Jones's allegations, he had a better chance of finding evidence if he arrived before the sluts had time to wash the cum from their panties.

Clare knew what would make Alison feel better. She poured two glasses of Chardonnay, a white wine, went to the master bath, turned on the tab to send hot water cascading into the tub, poured some bubble bath and oils into the swirling water and went into the bedroom to help the crying woman out of her sperm soaked clothing. The insides of Clare's thighs were slick with the semen that had leaked from her saturated panties to the tops of her thigh high stockings. She loved the feeling of being a sperm soaked slut. She wanted her friend to loosen up and also enjoy the pleasures that life had to offer. Being in Los Angeles had helped her. Clare had always been wild, but Alison did not even suspect some of the things that she had done since moving to California. On the weekends, Clare was making X-rated porno tapes. She was still just locally known, but was planning on becoming nationally known soon. She had specialized in interracial porn. The bigger and blacker the cocks in her mov the more videotapes the buyers wanted.

Alison meekly followed her fair-haired friend to the bathroom and let her peel the clothing from her sore body. The warm water felt soothing to her abused body as she slowly settled into the bath. Clare handed her one of the glasses of wine, picked up the other and made a toast, "Here's to the female orgasm!" Alison automatically sipped the cool liquid as Clare drank her wine. Alison's mind was in turmoil. She felt incredibly guilty because she had, for the first time, cheated on her husband. As far as she knew, Nick had never strayed. Alison felt like a cheap slut as a tear rolled down her pretty face.

The warm bath and the glasses of wine helped Alison forget, just a little, what had happened tonight. She was high and did not protest when Clare peeled her own clothing off and joined Alison in the large tub. Alison was so drunk that she openly stared at Clare's thin blonde body as she settled down in the tub with her. Alison knew it was wrong for her nipples to harden as her friend's body wetly slid against her own. Alison was on her fourth glass of wine and was too far-gone to protest as a pair of arms encircled her nude body and drew her body against Clare's. "Poor Alison. You have had such a trying night. I'll help you forget what has happened. We don't need those nasty men to make us feel good. Let me show you." With those words, Clare brought her lips gently to Alison's soft warm mouth. After all that had happened, and the wine, Alison was too slow to react and protest. Besides, the kiss was soft and gentle, as only another woman would be able to kiss. "Clare was her best friend and would never do anything to harm her," she thought as she lay passively in the horny blonde's arms. They shared slow wet passionate kisses for the next fifteen minutes.

Alison was actually disappointed when Clare had stopped kissing her and had risen from the cooling bath water. She watched as Clare sensuously dried her own body, then helped her out and dried hers. Alison was passive as she was led to her and her husband's marriage bed. The patchwork quilt, that Alison had been so proud of, was pulled from the king size bed and dropped on the floor. Clare had her inebriated and confused friend lie on the bed. For years, Clare had wanted the tall well-endowed brunette in this position. Occasionally, Clare would masturbate as she thought of what she would love to do to her innocent minded friend. Now, she had Alison right where she wanted her.

Alison lay her head on the pillow with her hair spread out around her head like an angel's wings. Her nipples and inner labia were red and swollen from the treatment that the tall black basketball player had given them earlier in the night. In her mind, there were warnings about what she knew that Clare was going to do to her. Her mental turmoil over having cheated on her husband for the first time, and the effects of the Chardonnay wine, blocked her ability to resist the emotions that made her want to have Clare hug and kiss her some more. Clare wasted little time in doing so.

Clare lay on top of Alison. Her thigh moved between Alison's, causing her thigh to rub against the brunette's swollen and hypersensitive vagina. The blonde rubbed her swollen mound against her friend's thigh even as her lips met Alison's. The kiss lasted for several minutes before Clare inserted her tongue into Alison's partly open mouth. After the events on the bus, and the sexually charged state of each of their bodies, Alison found little trouble being able to climax as the two women embraced and massaged each other's vaginas with their thighs.

Clare moved down and sucked Alison's redden nipples. She delighted in the expressions on her friend's face as she slipped her hand down Alison's smooth tummy to play with the moistening hair fringed slit. Alison was not able to exercise any control over her sexually excited body. Tonight, for virtually the first time in her life, she had completely lost control over her libido. When Clare's middle finger began to tease her erect clitoris, she built up to a powerful climax. By the time Alison had become aware of what was happening again, Clare had slid down and had parted her friend's vagina lips and was wrapping her lips around the swollen clit. Alison bucked and wiggled about on the bed as she was forced to endure one massive orgasm after the other. Twenty-seven minutes, and a countless number or orgasms later, Alison's sweat soaked body lost consciousness.

Alison awoke slowly. She had a slight hangover. She opened her eyes to see Clare lying in bed next to her. A sheet covered them, but underneath the sheet, she knew that they were nude. Then, memories of the previous night came flooding back through her mind. She sat up quickly as the shock of what she had done sank into her mind. The sudden movement did not help her hangover-fogged brain. Alison looked down at where the sheet had fallen away from her large breasts. Her nipples were swollen and red in color. They were also extra sensitive.

Alison looked over at Clare and saw that her eyes were open. Alison asked, "Did everything that I remember actually happen last night?" Clare asked her what she remembered. Alison named off the items on her mental list. Clare nodded her pretty head for each item. Alison blushed as she mentioned the things that she and Clare had done in bed. Clare only smiled at her friend.

Alison had to pee. She got out of bed and almost ran to the bathroom. She sat down on the commode and let her water drain from her body. After she had finished, she automatically reached for some toilet tissue to dry herself. As she patted herself, she made a startling discovery; her pubic hair was gone. She cried out, "No!" As she jumped up and ran to the mirrors. She could see the reflection of her almost flat belly in the mirror. The gentle curve under her tummy was completely bald. It was not trimmed. It was bald! Her puffy vagina lips and the swollen inner labia, which were hanging out since last night, could be seen in the mirror. Alison grabbed the edge of the bathroom sink to steady herself, as the room seemed to go around in a circle for a moment. "Doesn't it look beautiful?" Clare, also naked, spoke from the doorway.

"What have you done to me? How will I explain this to Nick when he gets home?" Alison asked as she looked at her reflection.

"Just tell him that you did it to wear bathing suits. Hell, men hardly ever notice anything anyway. Nick is no different. In fact, most men get turned on by bald beavers." Clare moved up behind Alison and wrapped her arms around her nude friend. Alison felt Clare's bare breasts and pubic hair covered mound pressing against her back. "I shaved you last night after you had passed out. From now on, when some one eats your delicious slit, they won't get pubic hair stuck between their teeth. If you want to, I'll let you shave me."

Alison watched in the mirror as Clare's hands moved up to caress her D cup breasts. By the time Alison's hand had moved up to push her friend's hands away, Clare's fingers were gently pinching her enlarged nipples. Instead of being able to push the questing fingers away, Alison's hands were only able to cover them as she felt the erotic sensations emanating from her breasts. One of Clare's hands moved down her smooth belly and caressed her hairless vagina lips. Alison was amazed at the intensity of the sensations that resulted from having her bald pussy played with by another woman. She found that she had no will power to say no when Clare led her back to bed.

Clare positioned the brunette in the middle of the rumpled bed before she went down on her again. Alison was responding to her friend's tongue and lips by cuming several times. When Clare turned around to settle her own pussy down onto Alison's face, Alison was so sexually excited, she did to Clare's clit and vagina, exactly what Clare had done to hers. Finally, after all these years, Clare had gotten Alison right where she had always wanted her. Clare reached several large orgasms as she rocked her cunt back and forth on Alison's pretty face.

The two women lay together in the bed with their arms around each other. Alison's mind was in a state of confusion. The last twelve hours were the most debasing of her life. They were also the most erotic and sexually satisfying. She had found that by finally letting go with her sexuality that she had mind-blowing orgasms. She looked into Clare's face to find her blonde lover smiling at her just before they kissed. The doorbell interrupted them.

Both women got out of bed and put on robes. They went downstairs to see who was bothering them. It was after noon on Saturday and Alison was not expecting visitors and Nick had left a message that he would not be back for several days. Alison looked out the peephole and saw that it was Graham Gray. She had dated him before she and Nick were married. She had expected him to be at the Capitol with Nick while they were arguing their cases and giving depositions. She wondered what he was doing here as she unlocked the door to let him in.

Graham had the photos in his pocket as the door opened. Alison's hair was slightly tangled and her lipstick was smeared. She had on a pink robe that was just thin enough to see her nipples protruding from her large breasts. He brought his eyes up to meet hers before she got mad about him staring at her big tits. "Hello, Alison. Long time no see. Do you mind if I come in to talk?" He brushed by the tall brunette and entered the living room without giving her time to answer. He saw Clare sitting on the sofa smoking a cigarette in a blue robe that probably belonged to Nick. Graham remembered the night he had fucked the pretty blonde in the ass and his cock got even harder in his pants. "Hello, Clare. This is a surprise finding you here." Actually, it wasn't. He had recognized her in the pictures as she and Alison were getting off the basketball team bus.

Clare said, "Hello, Graham. Are you as big of an asshole as you were the last time I was in New York?" She was referring to the night that he had gotten her high on pot and had anal sex with her while she was to high to protest. Even though Graham had a small dick, her anus had been sore because he had not used lubricant. Graham laughed and nodded his head.

"Actually, that is part of the reason I am here. Some one has given me some pictures that were taken last night. They are very incriminating. It shows the two of you getting on a bus with a bunch of black basketball monkeys with your hair and clothing all neat and fresh. Then the other pictures show the two of you getting off the bus with your hair and clothing all wrinkled and in disarray. The Good Lord only knows what Nick or your family would think of these pictures." He removed the pictures from his pocket and lay them on the coffee table in front of the two women.

Alison felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She reached with shaking hands and grabbed up the photos. She ripped them into hundreds of pieces and flung them into the wastepaper basket. Graham reached into his pocket and pulled another set of the pictures out and held them up for Alison to see. "Destruction of other people's property is a crime. I'm willing to overlook your violation of the law just like I am willing to keep your indiscretions a secret. I do, however, need a favor, and I believe that you two can help me." Alison saw the pictures in her ex-boyfriend's hands and her shoulders slumped in defeat. Clare didn't really care if he showed the pictures to the whole country, but she was curious and wanted to know what he had in mind.

It was at that moment that Alison remembered that she had not called a tow truck to pick up her car. When she had gotten off the bus, she had been too upset to call. After she had gotten home and had the glasses of wine, she had completely forgotten. She excused herself and went to the other room to call the dealer and get them to tow in her car, or, whatever was left of it after setting on the side of the expressway over night. While she was gone, Clare told Graham that she personally did not care if he put the pictures on the evening news. He decided that, since he was only after Nick, and therefore, only Alison interested him, that he would try to bring Clare in on his side. He explained the situation to her and offered to buy her a new Lexus if she would assist him in corrupting the previously innocent housewife. For a new Lexus, Clare would have been willing to debase and defile the Virgin Mary. She agreed to betray her best friend before Alison returned to the room.

When Alison came back to the living room and sat down on the sofa, Graham explained to her that he had a detective agency and that his female operatives had quit last week. In return for the pictures and the negatives, he needed them to assist Mr. Jones in an investigation. He would only require their services for tonight, and they would never see him or the pictures again. He assured them that they would be perfectly safe and that, "Nick would never know what you did last night." Alison did not want to do it, but Clare talked her into it. When Alison agreed, Graham told them that Mr. Jones would be there in two hours with their disguises. He kissed each of them on the cheek before leaving. After he left the apartment, he mumbled something about, "Fucking sluts."

Alison was very upset. Clare led her to the kitchen and fixed a light breakfast for them. Graham had explained what was to happen tonight and she knew that they would need the energy.

Alison recognized Mr. Jones as the man with the weasel face that she had seen at the airport the previous night. He waited in the living room as she and Clare carried the boxes of clothing up to the upstairs bedroom. Alison opened the box with her name on it and almost went into shock. These clothes looked like the kind of clothes that a common streetwalker wore. She wouldn't even wear such clothes in the privacy of her own bedroom when Nick had asked her to. She certainly had no intention of wearing such an outfit out in public. Even the two glasses of Chardonnay that Clare had given before their bath her had not clouded her judgement this much!

Clare was already getting into her clothes. Alison watched as her friend wrapped a dainty pink garter belt around her tiny waist and hooked it. She twisted it around until it hung just right. Next, she picked up a pair of suntan silk stockings, slipped them up her legs and attached them to her garter belt. She pulled out a pair of four-inch white stiletto high heel shoes and buckled the ankle straps around her small ankles. Even Alison, after what had recently happened between Clare and her, had to admit that Clare was a sexy vision as she moved around the bedroom in such erotic lingerie. Alison almost hated to see her friend pull the small pink panties up and cover her love mound. Clare found no brassiere in the box. The only other piece of clothing was a thin pink silk wrap mini dress. She put it on and turned around all the way, like a fashion model does, as she asked for Alison's opinion.

Clare came over and helped the protesting Alison to get dressed in the skimpy prostitute's disguise. A black garter belt with lace trim went around her small waist. Next, a pair of black silk stockings with a seam up the back were pulled up her legs and attached to the garter belt. A pair of black four-inch high stiletto heels was buckled on her feet. A pair of black crotchless panties were slid up her legs and pulled into place. Next, a black brassiere was hooked around her chest. Alison looked down and was shocked to see that the centers of the bra cups were cut out and that her breast were lifted and her red sensitive nipples were held out as if begging to be sucked on. She glanced in a mirror and saw her bald vagina plainly visible through the cut out in the panties. She took a couple of swallows of the fresh glass of wine that Clare gave her as she thought of the embarrassment of being out in public with such sinful lingerie under her outer clothing.

Clare put her arms around her long time friend in a gesture that was meant to imply support, but was only done to feel Alison's sexy body against her own. Clare had slipped the pill that Graham had given her when he was here into Alison's first glass of wine. She could tell that the brunette was a little high as she ran her hands down over the shapely bottom and found that the black crotchless panties even left the crack of Alison's beautiful ass exposed. She kissed Alison's unresisting mouth for a couple of minutes before she heard Jones yelling for them to, "Hurry up! We ain't got all night!"

Clare found that Alison's white dress was also a thin silk wrap dress. It was made of an almost transparent material and was about two sizes to small. Where it flapped over in front was only a few inches. Alison would have to be very careful when she sat down, or even when she was walking, or else the dress would fall open and expose her nipples peeking through the brassiere cup cut outs and her bare pussy lips through her crotchless panties. When Clare stepped back to get a better look at the over-all image that the innocent housewife would convey to everyone that saw her tonight. She saw that the combination of a thin white dress and black sexy lingerie was visually stunning. Every article of black lingerie could be seen, including the cutouts in her bra and panties, through the thin white material of her dress. Clare knew that if she were going to get Alison out of the door of her apartment in these clothes, she would have to keep her friend away from mirrors.

Mr. Jones almost swallowed his chewing gum as he saw the two women descend the stairs. His little needle dick got harder than it had been in years as he imagined all the things he would like to do to the young women. "To bad the boss has other plans for the two bitches," he thought to himself, "I would show them how a real man could fuck them." He reached down and pulled his small throbbing pecker to one side as he held the front door open for Clare and Alison to leave the relative safety of Alison's apartment.

Jones had dropped Clare and Alison off at a street corner in a rough part of town. "A large Linclon Town Car will be through here in a few minutes with four men inside. Do whatever you have to do to get them to stop. Let them pick you up and take you to their apartment. Once you get there, be on the look out for a stolen computer system. It's a new ZL1 system. It's a big machine and you can't miss it. They may have it in a bedroom. Here are two panic button transmitters. Push them when you find the computer or if you think you are in danger." There were no stolen ZL1 computers. The four men were four of the biggest, blackest and meanest rapist that his detective agency had ever investigated. Graham had bailed them out of jail just to do this job for him. And, the panic button transmitters that Jones had handed the two women, were just kids toys that did not really work. He was grinning ear to ear as he drove off to park in an alley and record the coming events on video and photos

The videotape would show, through the telephoto lens, close-ups of Clare and Alison working the street corner like any other pair of whores. He had them redo their make up in the car. They really were painted up like cheap hookers. Jones zoomed out as the big Linclon pulled up to the curb. The car blocked the shot enough so that the viewer was not aware that Alison had taken several steps back away from the curb when she saw how rough the huge black men in the car appeared to be. Clare reached over and pulled her forward. Jones recorded Clare getting into the front seat as Alison was pulled into the back seat. The car sped away.

Jones started his car and followed the Linclon to the abandoned apartment building where the four men lived. His video camera managed to record, through his windshield, as the two men in the back of the big car took turns kissing the brunette in the back seat. What could not be seen was the way their hands had opened the front of Alison's wrap dress and the way that they were molesting her body with their large black fingers. It also did not record the way she was desperately pressing the button on the kiddy toy in her right hand.

When they arrived at the abandoned building, Alison was pulled from the back of the vehicle with her dress hanging open. With one huge black man on her right side, and another on her left, they continued to maul her large sensitive breasts and now very wet vagina, as she was practically carried into the building. Jones almost felt sorry for the dumb bitch. He had seen how these guys used the white women that they captured when they got in the mood for sex. Her cunt, ass and throat would be thoroughly used by each of them before they turned her loose. Graham had told them that they could keep her for three days. By the time three days were up, the brunette would have been mind fucked as well as physically fucked.

The video cameras installed in the apartment recorded the abuse that Alison and Clare endured for the next three days. Jones was kept busy just changing the videotapes in the machines in the adjacent apartment. He was amazed that the four brothers could save up that much sperm during the three weeks that they had been locked up in jail. Even the young blonde bimbo seemed to get more black cock than she wanted. Before the end of the second day, both of the white girls were willing participants in the sexual orgies with the well endowed black men. Jones had already given up hope of screwing either of the two women. Hell, with the stretching that their asses and cunts had over the last two days, it would feel as if he were trying to screw an open window on a warm rainy day.

On the third day, another couple of black men came to the apartment. Clare and Alison willing sucked their big cocks before they were fucked by them. It turned out that one of them was a tattoo artist. In big black letters, each woman received a tattoo over the tops of their breasts, where it would be seen if they wore a low cut top or a bathing suit, "A SLUT FOR BLACK COCK" The other visitor was a body piercing specialist. Titanium core gold rings were placed in both of the white women's nipples and clitoral hood. Each had to be held down as the piercings were made with out anesthetic. Whiskey was used to sterilize the wounds before the rings were inserted and the fittings super-glued in place. Those rings would never be removed for the rest of Clare and Alison's lives.

The day that the two women were released, they were taken to a street corner in the tattered remains of their streetwalker clothing, and pushed from the Linclon. Having no money with them, they had to turn tricks just to get cab fare home. Clare only had to suck a man's cock for her money. Poor Alison had to let a man fuck her up the ass for her share of the taxi money.

Copies of the videotapes were delivered to Nick Baker. He sat in his hotel room and watched in horror as his blushing innocent bride was turned into a black cock-loving whore. The note that accompanied the tape was simple. It instructed him to settle the suit at a monetary amount that was far out of range of what it should have been. He loved Alison and wanted to salvage what he could from their relationship. He resigned himself to the fact that he would go against the best interests of his clients and settle the first thing in the morning. He needed to get home to his wife who needed him.

As soon as the two women had returned to the apartment, they collapsed in bed and slept for the next eight hours. Clare woke up first, had gotten her bags, taken a quick shower, called a taxi and left for Los Angeles. She had been willing to corrupt her best friend for a new Lexus, but she had gotten far more than she had bargained for. In the back seat of the cab, as she tried to find a position to sit in where the clit ring would not make her open cunt drool into her panties so much, she thought, "I bet that son of a bitch Graham doesn't deliver on the Lexus, either!" He didn't.

Later that night, Nick arrived home just as six large black men were leaving his apartment. They passed him in the hallway. They were smiling and talking among themselves about, "some fine piece of ass." Nick used his key to let himself into his front door. Alison was not downstairs. He silently carried his bags up the stairs and reluctantly looked in the door of the master bedroom.

Alison lay face down on the rumpled king size bed that was their marriage bed with her ass still up in the air. She and the bed were practically covered in sperm. Her red garter belt held up a pair of laddered black nylon stockings. He could see when he moved behind her semi conscious form that her anus and cunt hung open. Her clit ring was dripping black baby making sperm onto the sheets and soaking the mattress. Alison moaned and her body shuttered in orgasmic after shocks, causing her anus and cunt to contract for a second before they dilated again. The movement caused extra dribbles of semen to come out and run down her thighs. Neither of them knew it, but Alison was already pregnant with her first baby. It would be only the first of the black children that she would give birth to.

Nick could not understand why his penis had gotten so hard as he saw the damage that the six black men had done to his beloved wife. Alison's left hand came back between her legs and scooped up some of the sperm that was flowing down her thighs on her fingertips. Nick leaned to the side and saw that she brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked the gooey coating from them. When he saw that she was licking the black men's baby juice that had coated her wedding bands, something inside Nick clicked and his stiff cock came in his pants.
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