dreamer
Slave
Registration Date: 06-27-2006
Posts: 179
Mistress Or Master Or Slave: Slave
Level: 37 [?]
Experience: 1,203,577
Next Level: 1,209,937
 |
|
Mark walked through the madness of Bourbon Street Saturday night sober. He'd been trying for a week to get an interview with Queen Etonne for his New Orleans voodoo piece. Tonight his phone had rung, her rich Creole voice asked him to arrive at her shop at 11:30PM. Her shop was a local tourist trap. Though it had her name in the window, she was rarely seen there. When she was seen, she was remembered. She was a tall black woman with chiseled features and a slinky body. Most people took her to be in her thirties though dark rumors hinted she was much older.
When he finally made his way through the loud, swaying and swerving crowd to the shop, he noticed it was closed. He rang the bell on the door, moments later he heard the lock unclick. Leaving the madness of the crowd behind him, he walked into the darkened store. He heard the door lock behind him. There were strange shadows on the wall. Mark saw a dim light in the back of the room and heard Queen Etonne's black velvet voice.
"You are on time," she said, "Please, join me in my quarters."
He wandered back towards the dim light and found a stairwell with a single purple candle burning. Her voice sounded in his ear as if she was standing right beside him.
"Upstairs, please."
He walked up the creaky staircase and turned the handle to the door at the top of the stairs. Despite the warm day, a fire blazed in the fireplace. There was no other light. He moved toward the fire. Entering the room he spotted the legendary black queen lounging on a white leather coach. She was wearing a red dress, her dark hair hung down to her waist, shadows from the firelight danced on her dark skin. Her thick lips smiled as she rose to greet him.
"You have arrived skeptical. You will leave a believer, though I doubt you will use much that you are about to learn in your article." Her deep laugh vibrated in the room.
Mark stared at her. The low cut of her red dress barely contained her smooth, ripe breasts. She moved like a panther, her wondrous ass rippling in her tight dress. Her light green eyes seemed to have flecks of gold within them. He sat down on a plush chair, opened his notebook and tried to concentrate on his job.
"People say you have great power," he said.
"Some people know, some people just say," she responded.
"Let me put it another way," he said trying not to notice her body standing near his chair. "Do you claim to have great power?"
"I have no need to claim," she said, "What be mine, be mine."
This wasn't going very well, Mark thought, the woman is talking in circles and her thick spicy perfume was making it difficult to focus. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it.
"Oh, white Mark man, you doubt me?"
"No," he said, "I was just..."
"You were just nothing," she spat. Her mood suddenly turned and she smiled. Her bright white teeth shining in contrast to her dark skin. Mark watched her butt wiggle as she walked to the leather couch. She picked up a stick doll that had been lying there and whispered a few words to it. Then she looked up at him with a wide grin on her beautiful face.
"I believe," she said, "A pleasant demonstration is in order. You are most attractive for a white boy."
He watched her long dark figures begin to rub between the legs of the stick finger in her hands. He felt those same fingers in his pants, on his cock. They were warm and smooth against the white skin of his dick, they were urging on his erection, they were lightly caressing his balls. Mark knew she was ten feet away. His rigid dick knew she had wrapped her gentle hand around his rigid shaft. He watch her sitting on the white leather couch, lightly stroking the stick figure as she spoke to it too softly for him to make out the words. An invisible hand was jerking off his cock, he squirmed with pleasure and his hips began to buck. After a few moments of exquisite pleasure the hand stopped, he could not longer feel its warm, wonderful touch. He heard the queen's booming laugh.
"Not so fast, Mr. Mark, I wish to share in your good fortune."
Queen Etonne stood up from the couch and stepped out of her dress. She was naked underneath. Her black body looked shiny in the firelight. It rippled as she walked towards him, her firm breasts swayed a little with the sensuous motion of her strut. There was no pubic hair on her prominent pubic mound. The black slit seemed to emanate power and lust. She looked down and him with her shining green-gold eyes, smiled and raised one eyebrow. Mark dropped his trousers, the veins on his hard dick seemed to be throbbing. Queen Etonne pulled his shirt over his head and threw it in a corner. Still standing above him, her big, brown nipples almost in his eyes, she sucked air through her thick black lips. His cock believed it was receiving an intense and powerful blowjob. Mark began to thrash on the chair, deep groans of lust were coming from his open mouth.
She lowered her smooth black pussy down on his pulsing erection. His hard dick was enveloped in a sea of warmth that flowed in gentle waves. Her large, soft hands gripped his white shoulders and she began to move against him in a grinding, rocking motion. Her beautiful black ass was moving in circles and little thrusting motions. Mark felt like he was fucking a mile deep pussy and that his erection was hard enough, thick enough and long enough to fill it to its fiery depths. He rubbed his palms against her long, hard nipples and heard her moan with pleasure. An army of butterflies fluttered against his seemingly immense cock as the tall, sleek black woman started fucking him harder. She leaned her body back. Mark continued to rub her bouncing breasts. He could see his hard cock, shiny from her juices, sliding in and out of her sensational black pussy. He brought his hand down to stroke her clit.
His fingers seemed to vibrate with electricity when they rubbed her swollen nub of desire. Her hot cunt had turned into a storm tossed sea, powerful waves crashed against Mark's steadily plunging dick, she pushed herself up against his fingers and groaned. He could feel her hot breath in his ear, panting as her hips began to move like a piston, fast and hard. Her powerful fucking motions were taking him beyond any sexual sensations he'd ever experienced in his life. She drew the coil of lust tighter and tighter until he could hardly stand the tension. He never wanted it to end but his body was demanding release. She kept him on the verge for several minutes. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest, he was soaked with sweat and writhing with pleasure while the beautiful and powerful black woman fucked him to the verge of insanity. Her cries of passion were getting louder and longer. A tidal wave of passion smashed through his hard, white cock. Her strong pussy muscles pulsated and sucked at his quivering cock bursting the tightly wound coil in his balls. He shook with the powerful ejaculation, it felt like his soul was spurting out of his jerking cock. Groaning in ecstasy, he shot wads of hot white cum into her dark black fiery pussy. It seemed, for a moment, like he was never going to stop cumming, that he was surely going to orgasm to death, but finally the overwhelming blasts subsided and lay drained under the sleek ebony body of the voodoo queen. He was definitely, now, a believer.
|
|
Voodoo Queen
