If you’ve read my other stories, you’ll know that one of the things I’ve been exploring with my FWB is the absolute thrill I feel when he goes out with other women. It’s been a big thing for me with him, exploring my cuckquean kink, enjoying his escapades. That FWB is now my boyfriend, officially, but he still has his escapades and I still love them. He’s been encouraging me though. To have my own escapades, to explore things on my own. I put it off for a long time. I’m shy and going out and hooking up seems like a lot of work. But I have only ever been with two guys (and one girl!), so I couldn’t deny that the idea of another partner was alluring.
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So I slowly opened myself up to the idea. Of going out, finding a guy, getting laid. I am horny and I do like sex, so it isn’t like I hated the idea. I just needed to get over my innate shyness. And find a guy, that was important to. But it also turned out to be the easiest part because I realized there was a guy I knew who I thought might be perfect for a fling.
Andre wasn’t a close friend, but he was someone I saw relatively frequently at classes and just around. He was a nice guy, never rude or anything, but it was pretty clear that he liked girls and pursuing girls. He had that like constant flirty energy. Talking to Andre always involved a giggle and a slight blush at some point. He just had an undeniable charm about him and didn’t dim that late, at all. And it helped that he was handsome enough to pull that off. Andre had definitely flirted with me in the past, so I thought maybe I could stoke that flame a little for some no strings attached sex.
Andre was black. I’m white. And it feels weird to say but as I let myself consider this possibility, the fact that he was black was arousing to me. I’m not from the Deep South, but I’m far enough below the mason dixon line that interracial relationships, especially black men and white women has a sort of slight taboo to it. As a woman who enjoys porn, I’ve also obviously seen BBC porn once or twice. Maybe thrice. I knew that porn isn’t reality so Andre probably didn’t have a 13” monster, but I just couldn’t deny that his blackness was arousing.
So I reached out to him. That in itself was a big deal for some as shy as me, but I didn’t just say hello, I invited him out to a bar for drinks. As a strong independent woman, this simple invitation didn’t make me break out in hives, definitely not. Andre accepted though and got a little flirty over text, so I felt good about the outlook for the night. He’s a college guy, college guys want sex, and I was offering sex, everyone wins.
The night arrived and I wore a cute little blue dress with a jacket over it. The dress was about as short as I’m willing to wear, so not as quite as daring as I’ve seen around on other, braver girls, but still showed some leg, and I think made my boobs like very perky. I was incredibly nervous walking into the bar, but Andre basically immediately put me at ease, he just has that way about him. We got drinks, we danced a little, we talked. I reveled in being the white girl out with the black guy, I felt sexy because of it.
We were sitting at the bar, just talking about nothing, that drinks date small talk where the goal is to say nothing but hopefully everyone laughs, and he put his hand on my thigh. His hand felt warm on my skin and I looked down to look at his dark hand on my pale thigh in the dim light. I just nodded when he asked if that was ok. I must have nodded eagerly because he asked if I wanted to get out of there and I nodded again.
We left the bar and made it a few steps before he pulled me in for a kiss, right there on the sidewalk.
“Let’s go to my place,” a husky whisper in my ear, not quite a command, but not really a question either. I nodded again. It was a short walk before we were at his door. I was only half frozen as we stepped into an apartment that was both very boy coded but also relatively clean, which was nice. He saw me shiver and said we should warm up together. He pulled me onto his couch and we were making out now, him laying down and me on top. His hands roamed over me, settled on my ass, under my dress, over my underwear. I could feel him harden in his pants and I knew it was close.
He asked if I wanted to move to the bedroom. There it was, the moment where making out was turning into sex. The moment I could stop things or keep going and go all the way. I nodded again, breathing hard already. He led me to his bedroom and whipped his own shirt off. Andre was hot. I stared at his well muscled torso for probably too long before he smiled and softly said “your turn.”
I’m always self conscious getting naked in front of someone, so I slowly reached back to unzip my dress and let it fall off my body. I undid my bra and it joined my dress on the floor. I stood there in just my underwear, not even reflexively covering my boobs, and watched him take me in. He came over and kissed me again then slowly pushed me onto my knees. I ended up eye level with his zipper, so I unbuttoned his pants, unzipped them, reached in, and felt a very hard cock. I pulled it out and looked at my pale fingers wrapped around his dark shaft. It was bigger than my boyfriend, but not porn huge. A bit intimidating honestly. I kissed it. I kissed it all over. I took it into my mouth, as much as I could. I slurped on it. I sucked his black cock on my knees in his bedroom. I looked up at him smiling down at me.
After a few minutes he pulled himself out of my mouth and stood me up and bent me over on his bed. I was on my hands and knees as I felt him get behind me and grab my hips. He was very assertive about it all. He directed everything we’d done, I had just acquiesced to it all, which was different than sex with my boyfriend which was more collaborative. It was also hot to feel like he was just using me in that way.
As he pulled my underwear off and rubbed his head against me, I had a thought that once I did this, there was no going back. Similar to my first time with a girl, if I let him fuck me, I’d always be a girl who had sex with a black guy. In prom terms, I’d always be blacked. But the thought was as exciting as it was heavy. College was about new experiences and for a lot of girls, this experience specifically. So I didn’t stop him as I felt him line himself up and push in.
It hurt. It was more than I was used to and he pushed himself all the way in. I felt his balls against me. I gasped and gripped his sheets. I knew I could adjust, I just needed to hold on for right now. I was thankfully very wet and he was slick with my spit. He held himself in me for a second before he started thrusting. Not roughly, but forceful. He was holding my hips and periodically slapped my little ass. I felt like I’d burst every time he was all the way in. It stopped hurting, but it never stopped feeling like nearly too much. But I was enjoying the experience of it, of him. Feeling a new man taking me.
“Fuck I love white girls,” he grunted, not really to me, just sort of philosophizing while pounding me.
“We like black guys too,” I managed to squeak out between gasps. He laughed at that and said he was going to finish in me. I just nodded again as he ramped up his thrusts until it felt like I was going to go through his wall. And then he squeezed my hips hard and let out a long fuuuuuck. I felt him throbbing in me, knowing I was getting filled.
After a second, he pulled out and I collapsed on his bed, dripping him onto his sheets. He brought me some tissues to clean up and asked if I wanted to stay over or if he could call me an uber. I opted for the uber and he stayed naked as I got dressed, his body exuding sexuality even flaccid. He said we should do it again sometime as I left.
The uber ride home was short and quiet. I’m sure I had a freshly fucked look, my hair and makeup beyond repair. But the driver mercifully said nothing and I just sat in the backseat thinking about how I just fucked a black guy.
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