And if that weren’t enough of a fantasy, Johan could see that I wasn’t fighting him anymore, not really. Earlier that day, he had physically overpowered me, forcing me to suck him off and swallow his cum. Now, he didn’t have to force me, because I was negotiating with him, asking for friendship and kindness in exchange for my married Korean pussy.
I was going to give him what he wanted, and we both knew it. He had solved me, just like he said he would.
Then, Johan spat unceremoniously on my chest, using his hands to rub the saliva in between my breasts.
“You’re a pig,” I whispered, trying to salvage some semblance of dignity even as I acquiesced. He lifted my bra up, sliding his cock beneath the thin strip of fabric that connected the two cups. “You’re a monster…”
Now, his huge, pulsating tool was nestled in the valley between my breasts, snugly pinned against my skin by my bra.
“Your tits are so big, Nikki,” he sighed with pleasure, using his hands to push my boobs together so that they created a warm, pillowy tunnel around his cock. “So fucking soft…”
Then, Johan began fucking my tits.
I lay there speechless, looking up at this 19-year-old boy as he bucked his hips, rutting himself crudely against my breasts, his face a mask of cruel, unadulterated lust.
As Johan grunted and moaned, I found myself thinking of my older sister once again. Was this what it had been like for her? Had she let those white boys take advantage of her like this back when she was a teenager? Had she enjoyed the way that they manhandled her?
But I knew this was much darker than anything she’d done back then. I wasn’t a high school girl in the backseat of a car. I was a married, 34-year-old woman, not some naive teenage girl. Yet here I was, on my back, as my son’s friend buried his white, college boy cock between my tits.
“You’ve been married a long time, haven’t you?” he grunted. “You’re a good wife, aren’t you?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t even know the answer anymore.
“I bet you’ve never cheated on him, have you?”
I shook my head no.
“Fuck, so… so I’m special,” he moaned, exultant. “I’m your first…”
In the back of my mind, I heard Steve’s voice: “You’re good at making people feel special.”
“Yes,” I said softly.
“You’ve… you’ve really never been with anyone else?” he moaned. “You’ve never been with a white guy?”
“No,” I whispered.
“Jesus Christ,” he panted, slowing his strokes. “I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to fuck you so hard, Nikki…”
Johan withdrew his cock from between my tits, yanking his white t-shirt over his head to reveal his lean, teenage body. He climbed off of me and pulled me into an upright position.
“Take your bra off,” he commanded. “Show me your tits.”
“I… I shouldn’t be doing this, Johan,” I whispered. But the words themselves felt performative, because my ruined blouse was already slipping off my shoulders.
“I need this,” he said, pulling at one of my bra straps. “Danny needs this.”
Slowly, I reached behind my back, unfastening the clasp of my bra.
“You need it, too,” he said, gently pulling the bra away from my body. “I know you do.”