I was ripped to the eyes on hashish by this time, and was enjoying Lindy’s show, with my own cock uncomfortably stiff down one of my pant legs. Not only was she taking full strokes on and off Jean-Pierre, but she was also twirling her hips in a flat circle that must have driven him crazy, as her inner labia stretched out to grasp at his shiny cock, coated now with her thick, creamy, vaginal residue. Once again I muttered, “You’re beautiful!” causing her to fuck him even harder.
“No, goddammit!” she yelled, her hips a blur she was screwing so fast, then she whined, “Shit! I can’t cum! Jean-Pierre, levez!” she cried, and climbed off of him. He stood and she plopped her splayed knees onto the chair’s cushion and grabbed its back, wordlessly begging him to drill her like a dog. He quickly shed his shirt, kicked off his sandals, stepped out of his trousers, and palmed Lindy’s gorgeous white ass in his large black hands. Pulling back his foreskin to reveal his meaty, mahogany-colored glans, he sank his rod fully into her pink gash as he issued a weird, low-pitched exhalation that reminded me of an elephant snorting after a satisfying dust bath. Lindy, herself, gave vent to the cunt-busting plunge as she wailed, “Oh, Jeezus, yessss!” before resuming their carnal rhythm.
In my position on Lindy’s sofa, at this point I was seated directly across from them in my drug-induced stupor. My view was that of a thin, very dark-brown man, nearly my height of over six feet, goring a white girl with an ample prick that would be the envy of most Western Europeans. The contrast of their skins was enchanting, as was the sheer anthropological strangeness of their
coupling, and deep within my consciousness I heard a yes, as if in the future this was the way mating should be. I was drugged, of course, and such idealistic dreams were not part of Lindy’s purview. Snapping out of my reverie, I mumbled, “Is it good, Lindy?”
“Of course it’s good, you bastard!” she flared between grunts. “I just can’t cum! Wait a minute…Jean-Pierre, cherie, un moment.” She suddenly pulled forward, dislodging her confused instructor, and plopped down on her ass, spreading her legs widely to rest her feet on the arms of the chair. In seconds they were fucking again, this time in the missionary position, with Lindy looking directly at me over her paramour’s shoulder. “You see, Nicky, I too…can fuck anybody…I want at…any time. A black man…a green man… . I’d even fuck…my own father to…piss you off at this point… . You crossed the line!” Then she turned her attention to Jean-Pierre, in English: “C’mon, J.P., gimme your best!”
But his best apparently wasn’t good enough. He started moaning and accelerating his thrusts. I wished at that moment that I had Maureen’s camera to record her daughter’s vengeful response to my philandering: a large black prick straining to fill her full of African seed. In my most cruel moment of the afternoon I said, “Looks like he’s gonna pop soon, Lindy! Should I stick around for the big finish?”