You can change the width of the story text shown below:
Use how much percent of the screen width?
Options: Plain text or PDF (fanclub only!) version | Mark story | Mark author
Don't forget to vote for this story, in the yellow voting box below the story!
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story
Gutxi's expression darkened, his discomfort evident as he shifted in his seat, his voice tight with disdain. "Sounds... low class for women of stature." Gutxi remarked in disgust. Victory flashed his cocky smile. "No, sir, it's top tier. It's a high-class joint, an audience full of wealthy, beautiful women—mostly white and married. Women like your wife." - Victory responded as gaze locking with Gutxi's in a bold challenge and then turned to Nekane and smiled as he locked eyes with her.
"Do you, uh, remove the briefs?"- Nekane asked, her voice hesitant but laced with curiosity, her cheeks flushing as the question slipped out. "Yes, Ma'am, can't cheat the ladies!" - Johnny replied with a wink, his confidence radiating. "Can't cheat the ladies out of the full show, know what I mean?" - He said, his his eyes flicking to Nekane with a suggestive glint, intensifying her arousal as visions of him stripping—removing even the briefs—flashed through her mind, her body responding with a heat she struggled to conceal. "You must get great reactions." She added softly, her tone betraying her arousal, a comment that hung in the air as Johnny nodded, his grin widening. "You should come see a show. I'll get you a backstage pass." Johnny offered, his voice low and enticing.
Gutxi, expecting a stern rejection, braced himself, his jaw tightening, but instead, Nekane's response caught him off guard. "I'll have to think about it." Nekane responded, her voice thoughtful. The conversation shifted briefly to Gutxi's career, his legal work with Bel Air's elite lauded by himself as a great success, a pillar of his status. But Johnny, his gaze sharp and unyielding, cut through the self-praise with a pointed critique. "Sir, you've been helping the people who created this national crisis, the ones who've stolen from the middle and working classes with their greed. That's not success—it's oppression." Johnny challenged his tone firm, his black rage simmering beneath the surface, a rage against white male oppression that echoed his father's tragic fate at the hands of similar elites. Johnny looked at Nekane- the true audience for his remark. Nekane, listening intently, felt a resonance in her heart—Johnny was right. Nekane communicate her agreement an elevation of his respect for Johnny and a blow against her regard for Gutxi.
Throughout the evening, as the dinner stretched late into the night, both Johnny and Gutxi caught Nekane's repeated glances at Johnny's bulge, the form-fitting pants leaving little to the imagination, each look a silent testament to her enthrallment, a fascination rooted in Friday's encounter and her weekend dreams. Gutxi tried lying to himself, dismissing the glances as mere curiosity. Still, their frequency made denial impossible; each stolen look was a dagger to his insecurity, a reminder of his failure to fulfill her desires. As Nekane's gaze fell on his bulge, Johnny met it with a knowing smirk, his confidence unshakeable, a silent promise of further connection pulsing in the air. As the evening wound down Nekane extended a surprise invitation. "Johnny, it's late. Why don't you stay in the guest room overnight?" Nekane invited, her voice warm and casual. Gutxi had a forced smile hiding a storm of resentment as he nodded, powerless to object at the moment.
Later, as Gutxi prepared for bed in their master suite, Nekane slipped away, her heart racing with nervousness and exhilaration. Dressed in a flowing evening gown, the fabric clinging to her form, she quietly walked through the mansion's halls to the guest room to say good night to Johnny. Nekane approached the guest room door, her flowing evening gown clinging to her form, the fabric whispering against the polished floors of the Hortz estate's quiet halls. She knocked softly on the door.
"Come in, baby." - Johnny's voice called from within. Nekane pushed the door open, stepping inside, only to freeze at the sight before her. Johnny Victory stood naked, unapologetically bare, as he prepared for bed, his muscular, ebony form a striking vision of raw power and allure in the soft lamplight of the guest room. Her eyes widened, a flush creeping up her cheeks, though she couldn't tear her gaze away, her body responding with an undeniable thrill. "It's okay." Johnny said with a cocky grin, his confidence unshaken by her reaction. "I always sleep naked." - Johnny remarked casually, yet with a flirty look in his eyes as they undressed Nekane. Before she could respond, Johnny moved toward her with deliberate steps; Nekane found herself staring momentarily at his ebony manhood, her lips parting instinctively. His hands found her tight waist, the touch firm yet electric through the thin fabric of her gown, and he pulled her closer, his lips meeting hers in a bold, hungry kiss. The kiss deepened, her resistance melting as she surrendered to the heat of the moment.
Johnny pulled back slightly, his gaze glinting with mischief as he noticed the flush on her cheeks, the way her breath quickened. "You need to let your girls breathe!" Johnny boldly stated, his hands moving to the front of her gown. With a swift, confident motion, he pulled down the fabric, ******** her chest, and deftly removed her bra, the garment falling away to reveal her form. "Ah, yes, more like it!" Johnny said, his tone appreciative, his eyes lingering with unapologetic admiration. Nekane was flustered yet exhilarated and attempted to protest, her voice a mix of mock indignation and nervous delight. "Just not going to let me keep my top on around you, are you?" Nekane responded, her cheeks burning as she stood ******* before him.
"No, Ma'am, I'm not!" - Johnny replied with a playful smirk, his confidence radiating as he stepped closer, the bra still in his hand, out of her reach. Their lips met again, the kiss a renewed surge of passion, a silent agreement to push boundaries further, a rebellion against the constraints of her life, a rebellion fueled by Johnny's black rage against white male oppression. Johnny motioned toward the bed, his gesture inviting as his voice dropped to a seductive murmur. "Come join me." Johnny urged gesturing toward the bed, a bold challenge to her restraint.
"I can't. I'm married." - Nekane countered, her voice trembling with the repeated protest. "As you keep saying," - Johnny replied, his tone teasing, his dark eyes glinting with determination, a determination fueled by his resolve to claim her no matter the cost. He took her hand gently but firmly, guiding her to stand next to him in front of the full-length mirror in the guest room, their reflections a striking contrast yet a perfect match. "Look, we look great together." - He said, his arm slipping around her waist as they faced the mirror. The image of their closeness is a powerful testament to their chemistry, a chemistry tied to liberation.
Nekane's breath caught as she gazed at their reflection, the sight of her pale form beside his powerful, ebony physique stirring a deep, undeniable thrill. "We do look good together."-She conceded softly, her voice laced with wonder and a reluctant admission, the image a visual rebellion against the societal norms binding her to Gutxi, a rebellion she felt urging her to live as Kierkegaard taught honestly before God. Johnny's smirk widened, his grip on her waist tightening slightly as he leaned closer, his voice a seductive whisper. "We are made for each other." - He asserted, his words pulsing with conviction, a conviction fueled by his black rage and ambition to claim her as his future queen. "Gutxi isn't a man—his money is made helping thieves; he's weak and unmanly with a shrimp dick. You need a real man. I am the right man for you!"- Johnny directly challenged. "If I were a single woman, we would have made love on Friday." - Nekane confessed, her voice soft but heavy with longing, her eyes tracing his incredible body, a body she described with awe. "You do have an incredible body, a cock of an ebony god, and are so sexy." Nekane lustfully stated. Johnny's gaze intensified, his voice dropping to a husky murmur as he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "Ma'am, you have the sexiest body and more pent-up sexuality than I've ever come across in a woman. Let me release it! Johnny urged.
Before she could respond, the distant sound of Gutxi's voice calling her name echoed through the mansion's halls. "I must go." - Nekane said urgently. Johnny's cocky grin didn't waver, his tone indifferent to the interruption, his black rage simmering beneath the surface as he challenged the authority Gutxi represented. "Who cares? He can watch." He replied, his words dripping with audacity, a defiance that sent a fresh shiver through her. "You do have the nerve!" Nekane exclaimed, her voice a mix of astonishment and nervous delight.
They kissed once more, a brief but intense exchange., Johnny's cocky grin lingered as they parted. Nekane, her heart pounding, adjusted her gown to cover herself, though the absence of her bra—still in Johnny's possession—left her feeling ******* yet exhilarated.
Nekane's heart pounded as she adjusted her evening gown to cover herself, the absence of her bra—still in Johnny's possession—leaving her feeling ******* yet exhilarated, a secret rebellion beneath the fabric as she hurried back through the quiet halls of the Hortz estate. The lingering taste of Johnny's kiss, the image of their reflection in the mirror, and his bold words about Gutxi's failings pulsed in her mind, intensifying the tension of the moment, a tension tied to liberation, to a future where she might live truly before God as Nekane Victory. She reached the master suite just as Gutxi's voice, tinged with suspicion, called out again, sharper this time, cutting through the opulent silence of their gilded cage. "Nekane, where have you been?" - Gutxi demanded as she stepped into the room, his eyes narrowing as he took in her flushed cheeks, slightly disheveled hair, and the hurried way she smoothed her gown, his insecurity flaring beneath his arrogant facade, a facade tied to the oppressor class he represented.
"I... I was checking on our guest, making sure Johnny was settled." Nekane replied, her voice steady despite the tremor beneath it, her heart racing as she met Gutxi's gaze, the lie a thin shield against the truth of her late-night visit, a truth pulsing with a thrill of rebellion. Gutxi's jaw tightened, his hands clenching briefly at his sides, a subtle gesture of frustration as he stepped closer, his tone laced with accusation. "Checking on him? At this hour? You've been gone too long for a simple good night, Nekane. I'm not blind to how you've been looking at that boy all evening." Her husband challenged, his voice low but sharp, his insecurity and need for control clashing with the growing suspicion of her connection with Johnny. This suspicion mirrored the systemic inequities of the 2008 crisis—his elite status was both a shield and a cage, and he was now threatened by events slipping beyond his grasp.
Nekane straightened, her blue eyes flashing with guilt and defiance, the heat of Johnny's touch still lingering on her skin, fueling a spark of resistance against Gutxi's attempt to reassert dominance. "He's our guest, Gutxi. I was being hospitable, something you might consider instead of assuming the worst. She retorted, her voice cool but carrying an edge, a subtle rebellion against the oppressive norms he embodied, a rebellion inspired by Kierkegaard's call to authentic selfhood and faith. Gutxi's expression darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line. Still, he didn't push. Further, the heavy tension between them as he turned away to finish preparing for bed, his silence a storm of unspoken resentment, a resentment tied to his oppressions now directly challenged by Johnny's presence and legacy of defiance.
As Nekane slipped into bed beside Gutxi, the vast space between them in the oversized mattress felt like a chasm, her mind far from the man at her side, consumed instead by thoughts of Johnny Victory. That night, her dreams turned hotter, more vivid than ever, as she found herself lost in fantasies of Johnny, his ebony manhood a focal point of her enthrallment, his touch igniting her in ways her reality with Gutxi never had.
In the quiet hours before dawn, as Gutxi slept beside her, Nekane lay awake, her reflections deepening, her respect for her husband fading with each thought. She saw Gutxi's insecurity more clearly now—his need to control, his suspicion during their confrontation, a fragility that contrasted sharply with Johnny's unapologetic confidence, a fragility tied to the oppressor class he represented, benefiting from the 2008 crisis while harming others, a complicity Johnny had rightly criticized. She thought of Gutxi's sexual failings, his inability to fulfill her desires, his lack of passion and vitality, leaving her yearning for more, a yearning unmet in their cold, distant marriage, a yearning for a child he couldn't provide, a failure that gnawed at her. And she reflected on his oppressor status, his role among the elite who exploited the vulnerable, a role that mirrored the personal oppressions of racism and misogyny she fought against in her teachings, a role that now eroded the last vestiges of her respect, revealing him as weak and unmanly in her eyes, just as Johnny had asserted.
In stark contrast, Nekane's thoughts turned to Johnny, more and more realizing that he genuinely represented true manhood—a strength and masculinity that captivated her; Johnny's raw power, his incredible body, his unyielding confidence, and the promise of liberation he embodied stood as a beacon against Gutxi's failings, a beacon that resonated with her deepest desires.
The next morning Gutxi awoke to find Nekane already out of bed and the bedroom. He went looking for her. Gutxi descended the grand staircase, discovering through a passing staff member that she and Johnny Victory had risen early for a workout in the mansion's private gym. He entered the gym when he encountered a sight that stopped him cold. Johnny Victory stood naked as he came out of the gym, showing his muscular, ebony form glistening with post-workout sweat, thoroughly excited in a display of raw, unapologetic power that enthralled, disgusted, and intimidated Gutxi all at once. The sheer presence of Johnny's manhood, pointed toward a framed, smiling picture of Nekane on a nearby wall, struck Gutxi like a physical blow, a stark contrast to his unremarkable physique, a visual challenge to his control and status.
Johnny, catching Gutxi's stunned expression, smirked with a cocky glint in his dark eyes, his confidence unshaken as he reveled in the reaction. "What's wrong? Never seen a Black cock before?"- Johnny taunted, his voice low and provocative. Gutxi, flustered, struggled to maintain his composure, his face reddening as he averted his gaze, his insecurity flaring beneath his arrogant facade. "No, just... surprised to see you naked." Gutxi muttered, his tone clipped, though the intimidation in his eyes betrayed him.
Johnny's smirk widened, his gaze flicking to the smiling picture of Nekane just beyond the cockhead. As he stepped closer, his nakedness was unapologetic, a bold assertion of his allure. "I think your wife likes it." Johnny said, his tone teasing yet pointed. Gutxi, loathing and enthralled by the cock. found himself seeing the image of Nekane naked, sucking on Johnny's massive member flashing in his mind as his penis seemed to crawl up. He sought to regain his composure. "That's not a good joke!" Gutxi snapped, his voice tight with anger. "Joke? We both caught your wife checking it over and over again." - Boasted Johnny.
Before Gutxi could respond, Johnny's expression shifted to one of determination, his voice rising with a bold challenge. "You know what? I hear your wife—let her decide!" - The black stud declared, his tone laced with defiance, Johnny stormed up the steps naked, his powerful form a striking display of raw masculinity, heading toward the kitchen where Nekane's voice could be heard chatting with a staff member over morning coffee. Gutxi in panic and rage surging raced after him, his robe flapping as he struggled to keep up, his need for control clashing with the chaos unfolding. "Put this towel on, boy!"- Gutxi barked, snatching a towel from a nearby rack and thrusting it toward Johnny, his voice sharp with authority, though the derogatory term slipped out in his frustration, a term tied to the oppressive norms he upheld.
Johnny stopped midway up the steps, turning to face Gutxi with a flash of anger in his dark eyes, his black rage surfacing at the word "boy." "Boy?!" Johnny repeated, his voice low and dangerous, the intensity momentarily freezing Gutxi. With a smirk that still carried anger, Johnny tossed the towel to the top of the steps, his gesture rejecting Gutxi's authority, defiance pulsing with the promise of liberation. "Put it on,"- Gutxi insisted, his tone weaker now, the power dynamic shifting under Johnny's unyielding gaze. "Okay." - Johnny replied, his smirk returning as he sauntered to the top of the steps, bending over to retrieve the towel but deliberately facing his backside toward the kitchen, where Nekane had just turned at the sound of their voices, catching sight of his hot, muscular butt in full view. This display sent a flush of excitement through her core, intensifying the slow burn of sensuality between them.
"Mooning me, boy?" 0 Nekane called out playfully, her voice a mix of mock indignation. She slapped Johnny's butt. Johnny turned around, his naked form now fully facing her, his manhood still evident as he grinned with cocky confidence. "Settle this for us, baby!" - He urged, his tone teasing yet charged.
Gutxi, now entering the kitchen behind them, his face a mask of fury and humiliation, caught the tail end of the exchange, his eyes darting between his wife and the naked young man who threatened everything—his status, his marriage, his dominance. "Do you like my cock?" - Johnny asked Nekane directly, his voice low and provocative. "Yes!" - Nekane blurted out. Nekane, her hand instinctively rising to her face to cover a smile, nodded slightly, her eyes glued to him, unable to hide the flush of excitement and admiration on her cheeks. Victory looked at Gutxi with a cocky smirk of triumph. "Johnny, your cock is beautiful!" - Nekane added.
"That's enough!" - Gutxi yelled, his voice breaking with anger as he stepped forward, his insecurity and rage boiling over, a desperate attempt to reassert control in a situation slipping beyond his grasp. "Leave now, or I'm calling security!" - Gutx threatened, his tone sharp, though the tremor beneath it betrayed his intimidation by Johnny's unapologetic display. Nekane, her heart racing with excitement and defiance, interjected before Johnny could respond, her voice firm yet warm. "No, Gutxi, he can stay. He's just being playful, and he does look awesome—no wonder he's proud of it." Nekane responded. Her words a bold defense of Johnny.
Johnny's smirk widened at her words, his gaze locking with Guti's in a silent challenge. "And Madam, you can't see him anymore!" - Gutxi snapped, his voice tight with frustration, a futile attempt to reclaim control, though the helplessness in his eyes was evident. "We'll see how that works out." - Johnny replied, his tone cocky and defiant, his black rage simmering as he proudly displayed his manhood his words a promise of further connection. "You can't keep your wife from this." - He added, his voice low and suggestive, a direct affront to Gutxi's authority, a challenge tied to his resolve to claim Nekane no matter the cost.
"I'm calling security." - Gutxi declared, his voice rising with desperation as he turned to grab a phone from the kitchen counter, his last resort to enforce his dominance. Unfazed, Johnny smirked again, his gaze shifting to Nekane with a reassuring glint. "Don't worry, baby, I'm coming back. He isn't going to keep me from meeting your needs."- He promised; Nekane, flushed, excited, and deeply impressed by Johnny's audacity and physique, felt a surge of disgust at Gutxi's insecure, weak response, a disgust tied to her fading respect for him as part of the oppressor class, contrasted with Johnny's embodiment of true manhood.
With a final cocky grin, Johnny strutted out of the mansion naked as he stepped through the grand entrance, his powerful form a striking display of unapologetic pride, a display fueled by his black rage and determination to defy white male authority like his father before him. As he moved forth into the manicured grounds of the estate, Dee Davis, the blond model wife of a wealthy businessman from the neighboring mansion, caught sight of the naked Adonis from her window. Her eyes widened with intrigue and admiration, and she called out to him, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and allure across the morning air. "Hey, who are you?" - Mrs. Davis shouted, her tone hinting at potential future complications within Bel Air's elite circle, a new layer of external intrigue as Johnny's presence rippled beyond the Hortz estate, a ripple tied to his legacy of conquest and the promise of inevitable connection. Victory flashed his lady killer smile and marched toward the mansion. "Wow, you look like you got a tool that needs to be used!" - Dee declared. "Yes, Ma'am, I do. Looks like you have some needs that need tending, too!" - Victory responded. "Sure, do now; get that hot black butt in here and show me what black cock can do!" - Dee called out. Victory quickly entered the mansion.
Inside Dee's sprawling mansion, the air was charged with forbidden excitement as Johnny arrived, his powerful presence filling the space with untamed energy that contrasted sharply with the sterile opulence around him. Dee, with her striking blond hair and model physique, has tripped naked and got on her knees, and honored Victory with a blow job which was followed by Johnny humping her hard in the living room beneath the portrait of her rich husband. Johnny would be making regular visits to meet her needs. However, Nekane remained his primary target in that he regarded her as the hottest of women and felt an emotional and spiritual draw toward her. Their encounters, hidden behind closed doors and drawn curtains, were marked by a fervor that Dee had never known in her marriage,
Yet, even as Johnny indulged in this passionate dalliance with Dee, his thoughts often drifted to Nekane.
Nekane's dreams of Johnny grew hotter and more vivid; his powerful form and bold promises were a beacon of the true manhood she craved.
A few days after being "banned," driven by his unrelenting desire and strategic boldness, Johnny sneaked into the Hortz mansion under the cover of dusk, evading the full-time security Gutxi had posted to keep him away. Knowing Nekane's routine, he timed his entry to coincide with her post-workout shower, the steam-filled bathroom a sanctuary within her gilded cage. As Nekane stood under the cascading water, her body glistening after a hard session in the gym, Johnny slipped in, his naked form a powerful intrusion into her private moment, the air charged with forbidden excitement. "I missed you, Johnny." - Nekane whispered, her voice trembling with longing as their eyes locked, the intensity of their shared gaze a rebellion against her virtual imprisonment. They kissed, a hungry, desperate connection, and Johnny's hands moved to rub her breasts, sending waves of pleasure through her body, a surge of liberation that echoed Kierkegaard's call to live genuinely before God, a moment of shattering oppressive norms.
Gutxi's voice echoed from downstairs, interrupting their stolen intimacy. "Let him watch." -Johnny murmured against her lips. Nekane, torn between desire and fear, shook her head, her breath ragged. "No, I can't do that." -She replied, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her wavering resolve. Johnny smirked; his confidence unshaken. "Okay, but we both know it's going to happen." He said, pulling her into another deep kiss. As Gutxi's footsteps grew closer, Johnny slipped out of the shower, still naked, and sneaked around the corner, watching from the shadows as Gutxi entered the bathroom area and began arguing with Nekane, her wet hair and flushed cheeks a silent testament to the encounter he'd missed. Johnny grabbed Nekane's camera from a nearby shelf, positioning himself. Hence, his manhood obscured half the frame, snapping a provocative photo that made it appear as if Nekane stood next to a human-sized Black cock, a bold taunt left for her to discover, a visual reminder of his intent and allure.
The following week, Isabelle approached Nekane with a secretive air, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Come to my room; there's something for you." Isabella whispered, leading Nekane to a small, private space away from the watchful eyes of security. Inside, Nekane saw a rose with a black ribbon—a symbol of Victory—resting atop a mysterious box on the bed. Her heart raced as she opened it, revealing a black dildo unmistakably fashioned after Johnny's form, a provocative gift that sent a flush of heat through her. Her hand instinctively rubbed along its surface, the tactile reminder of Johnny intensifying her longing, a longing tied to liberation from her oppressive cage. A sudden noise—a microphone broadcasting sounds of passionate sex—drew her attention to a telescope positioned by the window, pointed directly at the Davis Manor bedroom, the window completely open. Peering through, Nekane saw Johnny ravishing Dee, their bodies entwined in raw intensity, a sight that sparked a sharp pang of jealousy. "That slutty bitch!" Nekane muttered under her breath, her voice a mix of anger and arousal, as she found herself unable to look away, the visual fueling her desire. Overwhelmed, she used the dildo on herself. Nekane moaned in pleasure, enjoying the large size inside of her but wondering about ever getting all of it in her.
Isabella returned moments later, catching Nekane in the act, her expression a mix of surprise and knowing amusement. "I'll have Johnny call you," Isabella said softly, her tone supportive, a gesture of alliance in the brewing revolution against oppression. The late afternoon sun filtered through the heavy drapes of Nekane's private study in the Horts estate, casting long shadows across the polished mahogany desk where her phone rested. Its screen glowing with an incoming call from Johnny, Nekane's fingers trembled as she answered. Her voice was steady but laced with a nervous edge, the weight of her secret rebellion pressing against her chest.
"Hello?" Nekane said, her tone cautious, though the undercurrent of excitement was unmistakable.
"Professor, it's Johnny." The black stud responded. The smooth, confident rumble of his voice, instantly recognizable, a sound that sent a shiver down her spine. His tone carried a playful edge, a smirk she could almost see through the phone. "Isabelle told me you liked the present I sent over. Got a real kick out of it, huh?"- Johnny teased.
Nekane's breath caught, her face burning as she gripped the phone tighter, her mind racing back to the moment Isabelle had walked in—her hand on the dildo, the rush of pleasure and shame colliding as she'd been caught in the act. "Johnny, that was... I didn't expect...how dare you send that?" Nekane responded as she paced to the window, glancing at the manicured grounds as if someone might overhear, her heart pounding with a mix of mortification and a forbidden thrill at his directness.
"Don't be shy, baby," Johnny chuckled, his voice lowering, a velvet taunt wrapping around her like a caress. "Isabelle said you couldn't put it down. I'm flattered. But you know, the real thing's a whole lot better. Just say the word, and I'll show you." - Johnny said.
Her cheeks flamed hotter, her free hand instinctively brushing against her collarbone as if to cool the fire spreading through her. "You've got some nerve, Johnny," she managed, her tone a mix of mock indignation and flustered delight, though the tremor in her voice betrayed how deeply his words affected her. "Sending something like that... It's inappropriate." - Nekane responded.
She took a steadying breath, seizing the chance to shift the focus and regain control over the conversation. "Besides, I saw quite a show. You and Dee." - Nekane said. Her voice carried a biting edge, referencing his brazen display of passion with the blond model, a sight that had both aroused and infuriated her. She leaned against the desk, her fingers tightening around the phone, the image of their bodies locked in raw intensity flashing through her mind, fueling a mix of envy and desire.
Johnny laughed, a deep, unapologetic sound that vibrated through the line, his confidence unshaken by her jab. "Oh, you caught that, huh? Dee couldn't resist, and I don't say no to a needy lady. Professor, you're the one I'm after. The hottest woman ever, with all that pent-up fire just waiting for me to unleash it."- Johnny responded. His words were bold, a direct claim that made her pulse race,
Nekane bit her lip, her body responding despite her mind's protest, the heat of his declaration stoking the inferno she'd tried to suppress. "Johnny, I'm married."Sshe countered, the familiar protest sounding weaker each time she said it, a mantra losing its power under the weight of her longing. "And Dee's married too, yet here we are, talking about... this." Nekane continued.
"Married to a man who can't satisfy you! Johnny shot back, his tone sharp now, laced with the black rage simmering beneath his charm, rage against the white male oppression Gutxi embodied. "Gutxi's a pathetic shadow of a man, Nekane. He's weak, helping those banker thieves while folks suffer. You saw it at dinner—his insecurity, his shrimp dick energy. You deserve a real man who can handle all that passion you're hiding. I'm right here, baby, with a big black cock that'll make you forget that little thing Gutxi's got. Ain't no comparison, and you know it after playing with that toy I sent."Johnny charged with his words. His words were brazen, a stark contrast meant to humiliate Gutxi while asserting his dominance, a challenge that cut through her defenses with raw, unapologetic force.
"Johnny, that's...You shouldn't say things like that." Nekane responded, her voice trembling, though the heat in her core betrayed how his words struck a chord, echoing her frustrations and desires.
"But I did!" he replied, his tone unrepentant, a smirk audible. "And you're thinking about it now, ain't you? Truth hurts, Gutxi, not me. You need what I've got, and I'll give it to you." Johnny said. "You don't hold back. But it not that simple. I'm not just throwing away my marriage for a big a cock and there are consequences." Nekane respnded.
"Consequences?"- He interrupted, his voice a low growl of determination. "I don't play by their rules, and neither should you. Let me release that fire in you, Nekane. Start by showing it—stop wearing bras and flaunt that cleavage. Show Gutxi and everyone else you're not their trophy. You're a woman who knows what she wants." - Johnny dared.
Her breath hitched at his suggestion, the idea of such open rebellion both terrifying and exhilarating. She glanced down at her blouse, imagining the act—tossing aside her bra, displaying her form as a silent revolt against Gutxi's possessive worship and her father's oppressive ideals. "I'll... I'll think about it." She replied, her tone hesitant yet intrigued. The seed of defiance took root as she considered the power in such a gesture.
She paused, her fingers tracing the edge of the desk as a new thought surfaced, a risky opportunity fueled by her growing desire and disgust with Gutxi's world. "Johnny, there's something else." She began, her voice lowering, a mix of nervousness and resolve to creep in. "Gutxi's leaving next week for a business trip to DC and NYC. He'll be gone for several days, arguing for bailouts for his crooked banker clients. It's... disgusting what he's part of. But it means I'll be alone here. I was wondering if you'd come over. We could... talk, figure things out." 0 Her words hung in the air; an invitation wrapped in caution.
Johnny's response was immediate, a low, hungry chuckle that sent a fresh wave of heat through her core. "Talk, huh? I'll come over, Nekane, but let's be real—I ain't planning on just talking. I'm gonna do a whole lot more than that. I will show you what you've been missing: touch every inch of that fire you've got locked up. That dildo's just a teaser, baby. You'll feel the real thing when I'm there, and once you go black, you're never going back!: - Johnny responded.
Nekane's breath caught, her body reacting viscerally to his words, a flush spreading across her skin as she gripped the phone tightly. The explicitness of his intentions both shocked and thrilled her. "Johnny, I... I don't know if I'm ready for that." Nekane responded.
"You're ready, baby, even if you don't know it yet," He cut in, his tone firm but laced with a teasing edge. "I see that fire in you, and I'm not stopping 'til it's free. We've got unfinished business, and I will claim what's mine. Just wait for me." - Johnny proclaimed.
Her heart pounded at his declaration, the weight of desire and fear colliding as she stood frozen, the phone still pressed to her ear. "Okay, Johnny."- She whispered finally, her voice barely audible, a surrender wrapped in hesitation, the thrill of rebellion coursing through her. "Come over when he's gone. We'll... see what happens." - Nekane stated. " I'll be there, baby, and nothing's gonna stop me!" - Responded Victory.
The following day, as she dressed before the mirror, Nekane decided, tossing aside her bra with a determined glint in her eye, to choose a low-cut blouse that displayed significant cleavage. At the university, her classes stirred reactions—male students were captivated, some female students were angered by jealousy, and their whispers were a mix of admiration and resentment. Gutxi, upon seeing her later, would be upset. Still, Nekane refused to back down, continuing to reveal her cleavage as a silent revolt, a revolt intensified by her secret use of Johnny's dildo day and night, each private moment a rebellion against her virtual imprisonment, a yearning for liberation pulsing stronger.
Gutxi prepared to leave for an important meeting in DC and NYC the following week, arguing for bailouts of his crooked, wealthy banker clients. This trip could bring additional fortune, but disgusted Nekane with its moral implications, a stark reminder of his role in the oppressor class benefiting from the 2008 crisis. She invited Johnny over, her voice firm with intent during a discreet call, a decision tied to her yearning for true connection and liberation. Meanwhile, ever the ally in this brewing revolution, Isabelle had seduced the head of security, using her charm to convince him to stand down. On the last Saturday in September, as Gutxi drove off under the early morning haze, Johnny watched from the bushes, his powerful form tense with anticipation, his black rage and resolve burning as he prepared to defy all constraints. Once Gutxi's car disappeared from view, Johnny ran up to the mansion, his heart pounding with the promise of an inevitable connection, a connection that might one day make Nekane his Victory. The revolution, a rebellion against oppressive norms and systemic inequities, was about to begin, fueled by desire, alliances, and the unyielding spirit of defiance.
Request from webmaster Art:
Don't forget to vote for this story in the yellow voting box below!
Authors really appreciate the votes and it only takes a few seconds!
Options: Plain text or
PDF (
fanclub only!) version for easy saving or printing
ESmail: Click here to send a private message to princeshaka (with ESmail, the site's internal message system)
Profile for princeshaka, incl. 1 stories
Email: princeshaka1983@yahoo.com
Add this author to your favorite author list
Add this story to your favorite story list