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Chapter 15 Longwood Motor Court
“Are you sure you’re all right with this,” asked Corrine as I got in her car. Mine was in the shop. We were taking the afternoon off to attend a meeting at Longwood Motor Court out on Route 37. The instructions for getting there were in my pocket. According to Mapquest we were forty-six point five miles and sixty-three minutes away.
“We discussed this until we’re worn it out. We both agree it’s something we want,” I said. “Drive, woman.”
“Are you nervous,” asked Corrine once we got out on the highway?
“Yes, I’m concerned they’ll declare me sexually inadequate and refuse to admit me,” I said trying to keep it light.
“That’s not likely,” said Corrine.
“My dick’s too small,” I said. “Those black studs will make my weenie look tiny. Everyone will laugh and point at me. They’ll call me needle dick Tom.”
“You’re being ridiculous. I’d rate your cock as larger than average plus you have both staying and recovery power,” said Corrine playfully grabbing my crotch.
“Thank you, but you’re being kind,” I said pushing her hand away.
“And more importantly, you have a very talented tongue. Black women love having a white man eat their pussy. Its one advantage white males have over their Afro-American counterparts. Black men do not like to go down.”
“And how would you know that, Mrs. Meade,” I asked. As far as I knew, Corrine did not have any close black girl friends.
“Personal experience, Jerome’s crew ate pussy when you directed them to but I could tell their cocks were not into it. And I read it on the Internet. Besides, everyone knows it’s true.”
“Scott and his wife won’t be there,” I said opening up the possibility she had been having three-way sex with the Reynolds.
“No, we won’t know anyone. The Reynolds are our sponsors and sponsors aren’t allowed to test applicants. There’ll be four Afro-American couples plus one other Caucasian couple hoping to join.”
“So we white folks are outnumbered,” I said.
“I’m used to worse odds,” said Corrine thoughtfully. “The important thing is to do whatever they ask. This is a test of obedience as much as anything.”
Somebody had provided her insight about the selection process and that had to be the Reynolds. They were the only ones we knew who were members. I shoved the thought of Corrine doing Scott out of my mind and kept the conversation going. “Even if it means taking a cock in my ass,” I said.
“You can handle it. We’ve proven that,” said Corrine.
Yes, I could handle anal intercourse. Corrine had purchased strapon dildos from Les and Sandy then trained me to take a big one in my butthole. My wife had sodomised me every night for the last ten days to make sure I was prepared.
The pain was almost unbearable the first time but it got easier. Even though initially I demanded she take the goddamn thing out of my rear, Corrine held on, slamming it home until my cries for mercy turned to moans of pleasure.
In point of fact it went from painful to pleasurable too quickly for my peace of mind. Looking forward to your wife fucking you in the ass can cause you to doubt your commitment to heterosexuality.
Last night on a final run through, I jerked off as Corrine straddled my upturned ass and drove a ten by three artificial penis down my Hershey highway. Within two minutes of penetration, there was a puddle of semen underneath me and I was ready for eight hours sleep.
I found it quite erotic watching my wife walk around our bedroom with a black dildo protruding from her crotch. She’d bought two versions of strapon penises. One used waist and thigh straps to hold it in place. However the other type was strapless. So why do I refer to it as a strapon? The packaging identified the product as a strapless strapon.
Sandy had informed Corrine the strapless was a new design she had tested on Les with excellent results. Constructed of a pliable substance whose texture was designed to stimulate deep tissue, it was a double-ended black monster prick. An odd shaped dildo that vibrated and fit deep in Corrine’s vagina anchored it in place. Apparently it molded around her G-spot like a glove providing the wearer with extremely pleasurable sensations.
Corrine much preferred the new product claiming she could achieve multiple orgasms fucking my ass. From my point of view there was no difference other than what made her happy made me even happier.
As we drove, we switched topics. We talked about work for a while. Meade Media had won another large contract. I was looking for additional office space and personnel. We discussed the pros and cons of various locations and perspective employees we’d interviewed. The time passed quickly and before long I saw the sign in the distance.
“There it is,” I said. “Any final words of wisdom?”
“Just remember, they are in charge so do as you are told. We are their bitches,” said Corrine pulling off into the motel’s parking lot. In support of my much put upon wife who had sacrificed her morals to preserve my balls, I squared my shoulders and put on my game face. We were five minutes early when I knocked on the door of Room No. 122.
“You must be Tom and Corrine, welcome, I’m Bob,” said the smiling black man who opened the door and extended his hand. “Ted and Jean are already here.” There was a white couple seated on the bed looking expectantly at us. “Come in and we’ll introduce you.”
It was a first name only introduction. Our door greeter’s wife was Rachel. They looked to be in their thirties. They were a contrast in body types. Bob was a lean six-footer while Rachel was short and anything but lean. She had a big round ass and her idea of greeting a white man was to embrace him for a serious tongue kiss. Mindful of my desire to join their club, I swapped spit and tongue fenced with her for a decent interval.
“Are you going to be my white bitch,” asked Rachel when the kiss ended?
“I plan on it,” I replied tactfully.
The next black couple was Ralph and Suzanne both average builds. You could say the same for Martin and Carol although Carol had a large rack and the thin material of her cotton sweater didn’t leave any doubt about the location and size of her nipples. The way she held herself when we shook hands signaled she was proud of those puppies and expected me to pay them a lot of attention. I didn’t see a problem with that.
Marshall and Connie were couple number four. They were the handsomest of the four. Marshall was one of those black men with large knobby shoulders, muscular arms and chest and a very small waist. Connie reminded me of Scott’s Nancy so I was interested in what was under her tight fitting jeans.
An open adjoining door connected Room No 122 and Room No. 124. Each room contained a king sized bed. The furnishings were standard motel, not new but not worn out either.
Our competition, Jean and Ted, appeared relaxed. Jean, a slightly overweight motherly type, was certainly no comparison to Corrine figure-wise. And, if I do say so myself, balding Ted, didn’t exactly measure up to me. However, since Ted’s loose trousers could have concealed a twelve incher and Jean could be the oral equivalent of a Category 3 tornado, I decided to treat them as serious competitors.
First name introductions over, Bob made an announcement. “The four of you undress then I’ll explain how everything works.”
White folks get to undress first I realized, as I got busy with my shirt buttons.
In my analysis, the club was the result of combining black anger, white guilt and mankind’s love of sex. A trained psychologist would have a field day probing the psyche of the members. I didn’t consider myself a racist except in the sense of neglect. I didn’t have any black enemies nor did I have any black friends. If Al Quarles and Morgan hadn’t shown up in our lives, I doubt we would have given Afro-Americans more than a passing thought.
As soon as we undressed, Bob issued further instructions. “Tom, you and Jean lay together on the right side of the bed. Ted and Corrine take the left.”
Interesting, they separated Corrine and I. I suppose it was to take away our comfort zone. As we lay down, the four black couples stepped closer to get a good view. It was kind of weird laying naked with eight fully clothed people starring at us. After a while, they asked us to assume various positions and do cute things like get on all fours then reach back and pull our butt cheeks apart.
Even a king sized bed gets crowded when there are four adults. Ted and I were touching shoulders and hipbones. I’d let Jean take the outside. Inspection over, the four of us lay there with our arms by our sides in what Corrine would call yoga corpse pose.
“Relax and cuddle up while I explain the rules,” said Bob.
“We don’t bite,” added Rachel.
“I do,” chimed in Marshall causing a titter of nervous laughter.
I turned toward Jean and put my arm around her and we spooned. She snuggled her back and bottom against me. My cock was nestled in a strange woman’s butt crack for the first time since before I got married.
“First of all, you can leave at any time. If you find this isn’t your scene, then get dressed and depart with no hard feelings. The Club isn’t for everyone. Understood?”
We all muttered agreement.
“The Club doesn’t allow condoms so if you can’t handle a penis not wearing a party hat you should leave now.”
“We’re a meat to meat operation,” added Rachel eliciting a disapproving look from Bob.
Corrine and I were used to unsafe sex with black men. Not a single one of the condoms she’d set out when making Quarles’ videos had ever been used.
“No problem, Ted and I prefer bareback,” said Jean moving her ample bottom so my penis moved further into her crack. She also took my arm that was loosely draped around her waist and moved it to her breasts. I obligingly captured a nipple between my fingers. A glance to the left revealed Ted was tightly wrapped around Corrine. His arm was breast high.
We later learned Jean and Ted were experienced swingers. They’d belonged to a local wife-swapping group that was an affiliate of a national organization. Through the swinger’s club they’d met a black couple who introduced Ted to the pleasures of sucking black semen out of Jean’s orifices. “I always loved Jean’s cream pie but it was a thousand times better when it was a chocolate cream pie,” was how Ted expressed it.
Since Jean also turned out to be a lover of all things black when it came to sex, their new found friends suggested they apply to Black Masters & White Slaves or BM&WS for short. In fact, it was Ted who first told me the rather awkward but apt name of the club.
Over time, Jean and Ted turned out to be friends. They were a pleasant, energetic duo that shared a love of serving as sex slaves for Afro Americans.
“Bare back is fine with us,” added Corrine.
“Good, the only other rule is we’re the masters and you are the slaves,” said Bob.
“Actually, there were a host of other rules but we didn’t find out about them until we were members. For example, white couples AKA slaves were not allowed to recommend new members. Slaves could not be involved in any facet of the club management or administration. Monthly dues were two hundred dollars a month for slave couples, fifty for masters.
A month before, Corrine had mailed our membership application to a post office box. Along with the paperwork was a check for five hundred dollars and a full frontal nude photograph of the two of us.
Love of sex makes you do crazy things and paying five hundred dollars to cuddle up with pudgy Jean while Ted grinds his dick on my wife’s gorgeous ass was one of them.
“Here, girls, we don’t want the gentlemen blowing their load until we Masters give the word,” said Rachel handing Jean and Corrine a small leather strap studded with snaps. “Suck them hard and lock them down.”
I recognized the strap. It was a type of cock ring. Up until that moment, I had never owned or used a cock ring. I had a rough idea how they worked. It turned out they were standard equipment for male slaves who were expected to maintain an erection for prolonged periods.
Fortunately, Jean was no neophyte when it came to installation. She took the strap from Rachel rolled me on my back and began jacking my penis in one continuous motion. When I looked over at Corrine and Ted, I was surprised to see his cockhead was already in her mouth. One hand was stroking his shaft and the other massaging his balls. Like I said before when Corrine commits, she doesn’t hold anything back.
Since the subject of cock rings had never been broached between us, I had no knowledge as to the depth of Corrine’s understanding of the topic. Was this one more area of expertise, she had mastered on her visits to Sandy and Les’ adult store? Were cock rings as common as cocks in the arcade? My poor judgment having compelled my wife to become a fluffer, I was not in a position to remonstrate if she had gained her knowledge at someone else’s crotch through an arcade gloryhole.
Jean was a skilled fellatrix whose mouthful of warm drool quickly produced the desired result. I was rock hard at maximum length when she placed the strap around the base of my manhood, pulled it tight, and snapped it together. There was enough blood trapped in my penis to make me feel lightheaded. Corrine finished with Ted a second or two later.
“Good work, ladies,” said Rachel lifting my manhood to inspect the result. She checked the tension and found it satisfactory. “Nice and tight.” A moment later, Ted had passed muster.
“Jean and Tom, you’re in the other room with Marshall and Connie, Ralph and Suzanne,” said Bob consulting a clipboard he’d picked up off a nearby table.
Jean held my hand as we followed the foursome into an identical motel room. Marshall and Ralph were each carrying a clipboard that turned out to be a long list of sex acts we were required to perform along with a rating of our performance.
We stood quietly while our masters undressed. Penis wise the men were average. I was thankful there wasn’t a mega-dicked Kelso among the examiners. Connie had a terrific figure and Suzanne was only a small step down from Connie. The way Connie put one foot on the bed and rubbed her sex after she peeled off her panty made me want to jump her but I was a slave and they don’t jump masters.
Marshall spoke after a quick glance at the clipboard. “Down on your knees, Slaves. We need to test your oral skills.”
Jean and I dropped to our knees by the bed. Marshall and Ralph stepped up surrounding me. Connie and Suzanne took identical positions beside Jean then I felt the bed move and Connie was on her back with her legs lifted and spread.
“Show her how much you like eating black pussy, Jean,” said Suzanne guiding Jean’s face into position.
“Yes, Ma’am,” said Jean.
Marshall’s cock was about three inches from my face when he spoke. “Can you guess what’s next, Tom?”
“Yes, Sir,” I said licking my lips to wet them.
Ralph’s cock was almost as close to my mouth as Marshall’s. He interpreted my gesture in his own way. “Tom’s just can’t wait to get our black dicks in that pretty mouth of his.” I had to admit he wasn’t wrong. I’d quietly abandoned the idea Tom Meade was a card carrying hetero.
My ears informed me Jean was eating Connie with a noisy gusto.
“Show me how much you love the taste of my pecker,” said Marshall traveling half the distance to my mouth as I traveled the other half.
“Start slow,” had been Corrine’s advice when she was conducting a blowjob training session designed to get me into the club. She’d found another use for the strapon in addition to fucking my ass.
Morgan’s was the only male cock I’d sucked since high school and then for only a minute or two before it disappeared back in Corrine’s vagina. For reasons not quite clear, I didn’t consider what I did with Morgan cocksucking. I’d simply allowed Corrine and Morgan to stuff his already hard member in my mouth; then I moved my lips up and down the shaft exulting in the taste and smell of her pussy. When it came to Morgan, Corrine was too much of a cock hog to let me enjoy it for long.
But Marshall’s cock was soft and smelled of soap. I reached between his legs gently taking his balls in hand as I applied pressure to their underside with the side of my palm, a technique suggested by my wife who considered my blowjob skills seriously deficient.
As I tackled Marshall’s penis, her directions to take it slow, get acquainted, and flick the mushroom cap with my tongue rang through my head. I teased his piss hole with the tip of my tongue. I’d reached the point where the shaft was firm enough for me to engulf its length pressing my lips into his pubic hair as the head pressed into my throat opening when Marshall announced, “Not bad, Tom, your turn, Ralph.”
Marshall stepped back to make a brief entry on his clipboard. Ralph’s cock was semi-hard when I opened my mouth to take the head inside for a tongue-lashing. I was getting more into it each time my lips traveled back and forth across that warm column of warm male flesh.
“Tom strikes me as a man who has sucked dick before,” said Ralph. I didn’t consider it wise to attribute my skill to my wife’s training rather than experience. I looked at Ralph hoping the lust I was feeling showed on my face. Corrine said one of the best ways to sell a blowjob was to communicate having cock in their mouth was an unbelievable turn on.
“Never met a white boy who wasn’t a dick sucker,” said Marshall. “They’re all part faggot.”
“Tom sucks like he’s all faggot. How are you ladies doing,” asked Ralph?
“I’ve finished. Jean’s a level one cunt lapper. Suzanne is getting her rug munched,” said Connie.
“Let’s see if Tom can handle a skull fucking,” said Ralph. “Open wide, Thomas. Ralph placed his hands on the side of my head taking control of its motion. I was prepared for what he had in mind. I’d watched Jerome’s crew skull fuck my wife and the women they brought.
“It’s a typical guy thing in that they have to be in charge. So they hold your head and fuck your throat. When you choke and drool on your own tits, they think it’s a turn on,” said Corrine my personal sex advisor who had taught me to tilt my head back to open my throat, flatten my tongue, and open my mouth as far as my jaw hinge allowed.
“Excellent,” said Ralph pushing his cock to where it nestled against my throat opening then moving his hips forward an inch or two. For any individual, gag reflexes range from strong to weak. Mine were weak and Corrine had dildo trained my throat to accept foreign objects. Still, I choked a little when the head of his pecker pushed into my gullet. Corrine would have been proud of the way my tongue lapped the underside of his shaft, its tip touching his balls, as he put a solid two inches down the pipe.
“Tom shows real aptitude as a throat fucker,” said Marshall placing his fingers alongside my neck to feel the presence of Ralph’s cock. That called for another notation on the clipboard.
Ralph pulled out to allow Marshall to replace him. His cock was slightly thinner and longer. I managed to work that baby while it was lodged inside my throat.
The oral ended with the two of them standing close beside me so I could lick and suck both cock heads at once. Based on their comments, I had passed that phase of the exam.
“We’re done here,” announced Suzanne. I hope you like your pussy wet, Tom; because Jean has my tap running,”
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