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#Interracial
By HanSolo
It was a chilly evening in London when I decided to take a walk through the city center, hoping to clear my mind from the day’s stresses. The streets were unusually quiet, perhaps due to the cold drizzle that had started to fall. As I wandered, my thoughts drifted to a desire I had harbored for some time — to connect with someone different from my usual circle, specifically, a black man. However, my social and professional circles didn’t offer many opportunities for this kind of encounter.
As I turned a corner near Trafalgar Square, I noticed a man sitting on the cold pavement, his clothes ragged and his expression one of weary resignation. He was black, with a gentle face that seemed to carry the weight of many stories. I felt a pang of empathy; the cold was harsh, and here was someone who clearly needed help.
I approached him quietly, “Hey, are you okay?” I asked. His eyes met mine, a mix of surprise and caution in his gaze.
“Yeah, just been better days,” he replied, his voice hoarse.
“I’m going to grab you something to eat. What would you like?” I offered, feeling a genuine urge to help.
He seemed taken aback but managed a small smile, “A sandwich and maybe a hot coffee would be heaven right now.”
I went to a nearby shop, picked up a couple of hearty sandwiches, and a large coffee. Returning, I handed him the food, watching his face light up with gratitude.
“Thank you, you didn’t have to do this,” he said, his voice warm with appreciation.
“It’s nothing,” I replied. Then, seeing him shiver, an idea struck me. “Would you like a place to stay tonight? It’s cold out here.”
He looked at me, skepticism mingling with hope. “Why would you do that for me?”
“I just want to help,” I said simply.
We walked to a nearby Premier Inn where I booked a room for him. As we entered the room, I explained, “This is your room for tonight. You can shower, watch TV, sleep in a comfy bed. Breakfast is in the restaurant downstairs in the morning, but you’ll have to leave by 11 AM.”
He nodded, still seeming to process the kindness. “I’ll eat these sandwiches and then take a shower, thank you so much.”
“I saw a men’s clothes shop not far from here. I’ll go get you some new clothes,” I said, feeling the urge to do more.
Leaving him to his meal, I went to the shop and bought some essentials – a warm jacket, jeans, a shirt, and some socks and underwear. When I returned, the shower was running. I called out, “I’m back,” and heard his voice shout “OK” from the bathroom.
I placed the clothes on the bed, imagining the relief he would feel to wear something clean and new. The sound of the shower stopping signaled his return to the room.
As he emerged from the shower, the steam following him like a mist, the towel barely covered his form, hinting at what lay beneath. I tried not to stare, but it was hard not to notice the substantial outline. I cleared my throat, asking if there was anything else he needed.
“You’ve already done so much. I can’t thank you enough,” he said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude.
“Okay, well, I guess I’ll leave you to it,” I replied, feeling a mix of sadness and disappointment. I hadn’t found the courage to express what I truly wanted, and now I was about to walk away from what could have been a unique experience.
As I moved towards the door, his voice stopped me. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you in return?”
I took a deep breath, my heart racing. With a stutter, I managed to say, “I’ve… I’ve always wanted to see a black dick. If you don’t mind showing me, then I’ll go.”
He seemed surprised but then gave a kind smile. “No problem,” he said, letting the towel drop to the floor. There it was, his penis, large even in its flaccid state, swinging gently.
I couldn’t help but exclaim, “Oh my God, that’s big. Thanks for showing me.”
He chuckled lightly, “You can touch it if you want…”
My heart skipped a beat. Of course, I wanted to. This was the moment I had fantasized about, and here it was, presented to me in such an unexpected way. With a mix of excitement and nervousness, I stepped closer, my hand reaching out tentatively.
The warmth and the weight of it in my hand were overwhelming. I looked up at him, seeking any sign of discomfort, but his eyes were calm, reassuring.
“This is… it’s incredible,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, feeling the texture and the way it responded slightly to my touch.
My hands could feel him growing harder, his cock pulsing with each beat of his heart, and I knew I should leave, but I couldn’t. His smile turned more suggestive, “There’s something else you could do for me if you don’t mind,” he said, his voice thick with desire.
My grip on his cock tightened, my own breath catching. “What do you want?” I whispered, my arousal evident in my tone.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve felt a woman’s touch. I’d love a handjob if you’re willing,” he confessed, his eyes locked onto mine with a raw need.
I gasped, the desire taking over. “I can do better than that,” I murmured before dropping to my knees. Without hesitation, I took him into my mouth, tasting the saltiness of his skin, feeling the weight of him on my tongue. I savored every inch, my head bobbing, my hands working in tandem with my mouth, my eyes occasionally meeting his shocked but appreciative gaze.
The heat, the sounds of my wet mouth enveloping him, filled the room. After a few minutes, my need for more drove me to action. I stood up, pushing him back onto the bed with a firm hand. His body hit the mattress with a thud, his cock standing erect, glistening from my saliva. I quickly shed my jeans and panties, the cold air hitting my wet pussy, making me shiver with anticipation.
Straddling him, I looked down, my eyes filled with lust. “I’ve never had a black guy before,” I said, my voice a mix of confession and excitement. I positioned myself over him, feeling the head of his huge cock against my slick entrance.
Then, with a deep breath and a moan, I sank down onto him, feeling him stretch me, filling me in a way I hadn’t known was possible. “Oh fuck, you’re so big,” I groaned, my body adjusting to his size, the pleasure mixed with a slight pain that only heightened the experience.
He guided my hips, setting a rhythm that had me riding him hard, my breasts bouncing with each movement, my moans filling the room. The sensation of him inside me, the way he filled me completely, drove me wild. His hands roamed my body, squeezing my ass, pulling me down harder onto him.
Every thrust, every moan, every gasp was raw, unfiltered, explicit. We fucked with an abandon that was both primal and liberating, our bodies moving in sync, lost in the sheer, hedonistic pleasure of the moment.
As we moved together, I was in control, riding him with a fervor that had us both panting, my body moving in a rhythm that was both demanding and satisfying. But then he took charge, his strength surprising me as he effortlessly flipped me onto my back, positioning me under him.
His eyes were dark with lust as he lined his thick, hard cock up with my dripping pussy. Without warning, he slammed into me, filling me with one hard thrust. The sensation was overwhelming; I gasped, then moaned loudly, the sound filling the room as he began to fuck me with a relentless pace.
Each thrust was deep, hitting spots inside me that sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I was moaning, almost screaming, my nails digging into his back as he drove into me, his cock stretching me, the pleasure building until it broke over me in waves of orgasm. I came once, twice, my body shuddering under his, each climax more intense than the last, my pussy clenching around him, milking his cock.
He didn’t stop, his stamina impressive as he kept up the pace, his own breath ragged. Finally, with a deep, guttural groan, he came, filling me with his hot seed, the sensation pushing me over the edge one last time.
We lay there, breathless, his weight on me comforting, our bodies slick with sweat and sex. After a moment, I realized I didn’t want to leave. I stayed the night, and we fucked again, each session as passionate as the first. His cock was a revelation, and his touch, his eagerness, made the night unforgettable.
It was more than just sex; it was an exploration, a release, a connection that was raw and real. We fucked in various positions, each time exploring new sensations, new depths of pleasure. By dawn, we were both exhausted, satisfied, our bodies intertwined as we finally drifted into sleep, the night’s escapades etched into our memories as something truly amazing.
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By HanSolo
#Interracial
