Is She or Isn’t She? Part Twenty Eight

Copyright Deni Wom 2004

As Staci stood there, the music suddenly silent, her perfect breast exquisitely exposed to all the collected men, her eyes surveyed the adoration they all obviously held for her, the sexy little white woman in the midst of a room full of horny, virile black men. They all knew that sometime tonight, their virile sperm would enter her, unfettered, and stay within her belly long enough to swim through to her womb. They all knew she was fertile. They knew she wanted to be bred black..........tonight. Bred black by their very own hard black cocks. This information had been distributed both on the internet, and on hand delivered posters, for over a week now.

Not one of them would ever know for sure that their sperm was the lucky one that had impregnated her. But they all had their own, individual, manly fantasy. Each man present knew how much money he had in his pockets. Each hoped it would be enough to win one of the auctions, and then be able to say that “Staci did me first!”

The music started again, this time a slower number, more sensuously seductive.

Staci moved slower now too, taking her time to introduce her newly bared marvelously white breasts to the men. She moved close to the men, allowing them to kiss her naked cherry-red, hard, erect nipples. A few men took the liberty to suckle their red arousal as she held them there, steady, for them to enjoy. Her flat hard tummy and hips continuously undulated forward and back in suggestively available sexual movements. Her transparent, sodden panties were soaked beyond redemption. Staci knew it was time to lose them as well.

Standing again, Staci began to fondle her hips, her buttocks, her white breasts with their erect and aroused nipples, and her little wet lips. Holding each man’s eyes, Staci hovered, dancing just beyond their reach now, as she pressed her middle finger further and further into her saturated cleft. Her folds yielded, parted, and soon her tiny panties were again inserted deeply into her sopping wet pussy.

Flirtatiously fucking her finger into her body, and then slowly withdrawing it, one by one she searched their faces for someone to feed her wet finger to. Choosing a short handsome well built man in the front row, she undulated sensuously to him, offering him her finger freshly wetted from her needy folds.

His face flushed a deep reddish brown beneath his dark skin. Mesmerized, his eyes followed her finger’s slow journey toward his mouth. His eyes crossed as he tried to watch it nearing his face. He inhaled deeply, drawing the sweet musky scent of her body into the core of his being. His nostrils flared, his eyes closed, then as if under a spell, his mouth slowly opened. Leisurely she fed him finger full after rewetted finger full of her stimulated essence. His mouth made love to her finger as if it were her hard clittie he was suckling. The well built young man began to unconsciously move his hips in a fucking motion.

The handsome young man had been saving his sperm within his testicles for a week now, hoping the sheer volume of his unleashed, accumulated primal sperm would insure that it would be his cum that would successfully breed this beautiful little white woman whose pictures of her naked beauty, for over a week on the internet, had been so accessible to his rampant fantasies. At long last he could actually smell his fantasy, actually taste her, see her. She was real tonight, and she was flirting with just him. All of the other envious men, his cronies, were watching her flirt with him, feeding HIM her pussy juices with her long white fingers. His breathing rate shot up. His sexually deprived body could no longer deny itself. He came hard, spurting, long fecund ribbons of his own cum, of his carefully saved essence, into his trousers.

As the humiliated man stood there staring at his saturated crotch, Staci moved on, looking for another mark, a trick, a John to seduce for her pimp’s profit. A man that would breed her black.

Staci began to lose hope that Bobbi was coming.

Rising, she began to slowly work her pantaloons lower and lower on her hips as she danced. The men began to clap and cheer as they realized she was now, at long last, stripping for their pleasures. Every eye was glued to her undulating pussy now. Slowly her hands worked the gauzy fabric lower and lower.

Accosting the eyes of one of the men standing in the front row, she silently dared him by winkling her eyebrow and flashing her eyes, to join her in removing clothing. Without hesitation the man unfastened his belt. Staci danced to him and as she lowered her pantaloons, he lowered his trousers. Loud cheers of support went up. Other men unzipped and joined the randy action. Staci was soon surrounded by a room full of men, naked from the waist down. 'They' were all pointed directly at her delectable body. And every one of them was fully aroused. There was no doubt possible regarding their desire for her body. She feasted her eyes on the copious feral banquet laid out before her. Her mouth began to water, her pussy began to leak copiously, and her breathing became gasps of need. Her sense of self worth swelled.

Touching the single-tied bows that rested on her newly naked hips, she slowly pulled the tie strings on one side, then the other. With one long slender middle finger, she held her panties in place, the sides of the tiny triangle hanging loosely but still covering her body. Then, suddenly she moved her legs apart. The thong string that had been between her perfect, hard buns fell, hanging straight down between her legs, like an arrow pointing at her need. The men groaned in unison when the tiny sodden translucent triangle of cloth hung here, still covering the very part that they most desired to see. Her little money maker was now one finger away from being possessed by their lascivious eyes.

Reaching behind the tiny wet pussy panel of her undies, Staci inserted a finger deep into herself, then pulled it back out and brought it to her lips. She kissed her finger tip lovingly, then slowly licked the length of her finger as she watched the men’s enraptured faces. Over half of the men opened their mouth as she did. Some even pushed their tongues out even as she did, so engrossed by her actions that it was as though they could taste her juices, . . . . . . even as she did.

Staci slowly twirled around. She raised the string that hung down from her sodden panties in her fingers, pulling the tiny piece of fabric that covered her sweet cleft out further and further from her body. The men began to hunker down, trying to see up under it as she turned.

Staci slowed, then stopped twirling. Then, still undulating her hips and belly, she kneeled, then slowly bent over backwards in the center of the pool table. As her head touched the table behind her, she slowly raised that last finger from her panties. But the teasing stubborn cloth did not slide from her body. To the men’s frustration, Staci’s pussy lips stayed stubbornly shielded, her nearly translucent panties held there only by gravity.

One of the men tried to blow the fabric off her cleft, but he was much too far away.

From within the crowd a voice was heard to say, “GAWWWWWWWD DAMN! How da FUCK can she do dat? Cain’t one yo close sons-a-bitches reach dem fuckin thangs? Pull dem undies off dat little whore’s cunt! Are ya hearin me up dere?”

Smiling at the comment and its portent, Staci began to pulse her hips up and down even as she was bent over backwards, her white jiggling breasts riding high near her shoulders, her erect red nipples pointing straight at the ceiling. Her tummy muscles rippled erotically with her undulating movements. The music stopped just as Staci relaxed her thighs, spreading them slightly further apart, and with the dying strains of the last note, the tiny triangle of cloth dropped to the top of the pool table, exposing her widely opened, very wet, and very ready whore’s cunt to her first Johns.

Over thirty men exhaled “OOOOOOH FUCK!!!”