Author: Wade Mondegam, Copyright © 1997 Master Wade.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached. The author may be contacted through mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.

I slid the clinging dress up Mimi's body. She was unreal. Her stomach was flat as a board, her breasts ripe and full, standing both out and up, support of any kind totally unneeded. I dropped the dress beside me and looked at her.

"I've never seen a more beautiful body. Lay on the bed for me, little slut, and let me see you on your back."

Mimi crawled onto the bed, her well-fucked ass swaying as she moved up toward the head. Turning gracefully, she lay down, her legs open, her arms beside her.

I stood there and looked at her for quite some time, the dim light from the single lamp next to the bed casting its warm glow on her. I slid from my own clothes, piling them with her dress, and then knelt between her ourstretched legs.

"White men have always lusted after black girls, you know," I said, touching her leg softly with my right hand as I stroked my

cock with the left.

"The bidding was always brisk for a girl with a body like yours, Mimi, when the slave auctions were held. Girls like you weren't traded and sold as workers, Mimi, they were traded and sold as sex slaves. Oh, there was the pretense of farm work, but everyone knew better than that. No, a girl like you, Mimi, was for fucking."

"Am I for fucking?," she asked, her hand moving to her crotch.

"You're certainly built for fucking, Mimi. And you seem to like to fuck."

"I love to fuck. I want to be for fucking."

"The black slavegirls who were for fucking called their white owners `Master', Mimi. Would you like to call me Master?"

"I'll call you anything you want if you'll fuck me," she said, her voice heavy and full of passion. I slid my hand higher up her thigh, nearer her increasingly wet pussy.

"That would make you my slave, Mimi. You'd be a black slave, a black slut slave, owned by a white Master for fucking."

"Yes, it would. I would be. I am, Master."

I ran my finger along the length of her slit.

"You're very wet, Mimi. I love it when a girl is very wet."

"Yes, Master, I am wet. You're making me wet. Tell me more about being your slave. Please?"

"You don't have to be my slave, you know. We can be lovers without that."

"No, I am your slave, Master. Tell me."

"I've had white slaves too, Mimi. Blondes and redheads. But you're a black slavegirl. A naked black slave girl with cum in her ass."

"Yes, Master. Black and full of cum. More, please?"

"I like that you're black, Mimi. I like having my own wet- pussied, hard-nippled black slavegirl piece of fuck."

"And I like that you're my white Master. You can use your black fuck girl anyway you want, Master."

"Anyway I want, Mimi? You'll do anything I ask?"

"I think so, Master. I want to. I want to be a pleasing slave for my Master."

"What will please me now, my precious little tramp, is for me to taste you. Would you like that?"

"Oh yes, Master! I want that...I want it almost as much as I want to taste your cum."

I lowered my head, kissing her right leg just above her knee. I couldn't get over how silky smooth her skin was, how unblemished, how perfect. Sliding down on the bed, I felt my erection pressing into the mattress. It would be hard to resist fucking her, but more than that I wanted to eat her.

I kissed my way up her thigh, my eyes open, drinking in every detail of her fabulous legs. There was more power in this one thigh of hers than I'd possessed in any of the Master/slave relationships I'd had in the past. She would be my slave, I was sure of that, but there would be no question who had the power. None at all.

The nearer I moved toward her trembling slit, the wider she opened her legs and the more hotly she rubbed her clitoris. She could come at any moment if I allowed it, but this was a time for savoring, and I would make her wait.

I reached upward and moved her hand away from her clitoris. Immediately, I pressed my lips to the top of her vagina and sucked her dark-skinned lips into my mouth. With my eyes closed I would not have been able to tell her from a white girl, but I kept my eyes open on purpose, not wanting for a moment to forget who I was with, or what I was doing to her.

Mimi moaned hotly and I felt her thighs close tightly against me and then release, opening widely again. I slid my arms under her thighs, reaching upward to take one of her breasts in my hand. The other hand slid down her belly, through her well-trimmed pubic hair to her clit. I pinched her nipple, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger, and rubbed the thumb of my other hand back and forth against her shivering little black clit.

Mimi shuddered and I felt her belly ripple under my arm. I moved my thumb away from her clitoris and pulled up hard on her nipple, stretching it and pulling it away from her breast. She groaned in pain as I held her nipple up, just long enough to stop her approaching orgasm in mid-stream. Releasing her nipple I cupped her whole breast and caressed it gently, feeling the firmness that made them stand so proudly under her clothing.

I turned my attention back to her pubis once more and reaching downward with my hand, held her labia apart, allowing me to lick deeply within her. Her wetness flooded my tongue as it slid between her inner folds, and I savored both the taste and aroma of her black cunt. Sliding my tongue back out of her for a moment, but continuing to hold her open, I licked my lips and breathed in. Her eyes were glued on me, watching with excited interest the pleasure I was taking in her.

I dipped into my black slavegirl's honeypot over and over with my tongue, alternately teasing her clitoris and bringing her back down with the nipple pinching. How many times she approached orgasm I don't know, nor can I tell you how long I allowed myself the luxury of her feeding me. I only know that it was only when I could no longer stand the building pressure within me that I allowed her to come, my finger hard in her ass, my tongue dancing hotly against her clitoris, my hand full of black slut tit.

She came wildly, but quietly, her quivering thighs and hunching hips doing the talking for her as she whimpered softly but heatedly through the rising and falling of the waves of passion inside her. When it had finally run its course and she fell limp under me, I immediately rose to my knees and straddled her chest, stroking myself in front of her face.

Mimi raised her head and pulled the pillow tighter to support herself. It was not enough for her to watch, there was a hunger for cock which filled her and guided her movements. Her mouth opened and her tongue slid outward, pink heat through the dark skin of her flesh. Her lips encircled me and I moved my hips forward, gliding on the tongue until my cockhead touched the opening to her throat. Stopping, I felt her move her head forward of her own volition and the head slip inside.

I could feel her relaxing, allowing my member to move back into her throat, and I knew then that I could fuck her head at will. Taking it in my hands I began moving my hips back and forth, fucking white man cock into black girl throat.

Any mouth that could take me in this fashion would have electrified me, but the feelings of her mouth and throat, combined with the emotions involved in being with her and the fact that she was not of my color were overwhelming. I fucked her, not gently, as I had eaten her, but with singleness of purpose, that of pouring my load of spunk into her black slavegirl belly.

I rammed into her, over and over, balls slapping chin, black lips touching white cock shaft, until with a snarling grunt that began deep within me and poured out non-stop until all the cum had been shot, I came into her.

We lay in each others arms, resting. It was impossible for me to rest long for there were parts of her that I had not yet explored, and I began kissing her once again, gently loving her breasts and arms, the front and back of her.

"Enough, Master! Hold me...please?", she said, imploringly.

I pulled her to me, rolling her over onto me and holding her tightly, my hands caressing the smooth skin of her back. We lay like that for a long time, chatting quietly about our lives and those things that mattered most to us.

That we had begun a relationship unlike any either of us had known before was certain. There would be challenges for us, as there were always challenges, but somehow they seemed insignificant in the face of our growing friendship. Our attraction to each other was centered in feelings as old as man himself, and in accepting ourselves as well as the differences between us we began a sharing equally as timeless.