The fantasy of a white guy for black girls

I love pornography. my fantasy is not just one thing, its a lot. I regularly download videos and pictures from the Internet and love reading erotic stories. I am particularly drawn to pictures of black women with their chocolate brown skin, nearly black nipples and velvety pubic hair. I am a white male in my thirties and have never been with a black woman.

I’ve been married for about ten years and my wife and I enjoy an adventurous sex life. She gets turned on watching x-rated movies and reading erotica as much as I do, but doesn’t understand my fascination with dark skinned women.

I work as an analyst for a securities company and my wife is a lawyer specializing in corporate mergers. She travels a lot and is frequently out of town for several days at a time. Whenever she’s gone, I surf the web or use my file-sharing program to search for pictures and videos of beautiful black women. Most of the models on the web sites I’ve found look like junkie whores instead of models.

Where are the gorgeous black babes? I have this fantasy of taking matters into my own hands and inviting a young black female over to the house for a photo shoot. My wife worked her way through law school as a photographer and still has all the camera equipment, lights and backdrops. My ultimate fantasy is that the photo shoot leads to hot sex with a beautiful, young black woman.

The current star of my fantasies is Rihanna, a sexy, black, 18 year old intern working in our office for the summer. She is the daughter of one of my clients and this is her third summer working for us. She sorts the mail, does filing and general clerical duties for the analysts working on my floor and we interact frequently with good rapport.

She is a knockout. She has shiny black hair hanging down to her shoulders, beautiful big brown eyes set between high cheekbones and a smile made more inviting by a thick, pouty lower lip. She’s about 5′ 8″ with long shapely legs usually covered with black nylons. She wears short skirts that fit tightly across her round ass cheeks that gently curve up to her slender waist. Her ample breasts push out her clinging tops creating perfectly round orbs high on her chest.

Everyday I watch her push the mail cart through the hallways and imagine caressing her naked ass or sucking on her black nipples. I fantasize taking her home with me and photographing her in a variety of lewd positions before pounding my hard cock into her tight, young pussy. I have to stay behind my desk whenever she’s around to hide the bulge in my pants.

“Hey, Mr. T, I’ve got a few envelopes for you today. Looks like some papers to sign. Do you want me to wait for them?” Rihanna has walked into my office with the mail. She’s wearing a white blouse with the top two buttons undone giving me a generous view of the top of her tits as they disappear into a black, lace bra. She’s wearing a gray skirt with a pink belt cinched across her flat stomach.

“That would be great, Tery. It should only take a minute or two, have a seat.” I motion her to one of the chairs across from my desk. She sits down, her skirt riding halfway up her thigh even before she crosses her legs. I’m trying not to leer at her as I open the manila envelope. “All ready for college?” I ask, “When do you leave us this time?” I’m staring at her lovely legs as I sign on the designated lines on the documents. I watch her uncross her legs and catch a glimpse of bare thigh above her black nylons.

“Three more weeks, then I’m a college freshman. My dad’s driving me up to school and staying the weekend to help me get settled. I’m going to miss it here.” Her smile is captivating and it pulls my eyes away from her legs.

“We’ll be the ones missing you, Tery. You’ll be too busy studying and partying and living the coed life to miss us. I almost envy you, although I must admit there are aspects of my college days that I wouldn’t want to relive.” I say laughingly.

“Really? Like what?” Rihanna asks, leaning forward to listen to my answer. Her blouse gapes open on one side giving me a clear view of most of her left tit. I am awestruck at the sight of this smooth, milk chocolate colored globe and my cock reacts accordingly creating an even bigger bulge in my pants.

“Well, for some of us the freedom of being away from home for the first time was a little more independence than we could handle. Let’s just say that my first couple of semesters didn’t make my parents proud.” My mouth is dry and I’m hiding a raging hard on as I finish signing the papers.

It’s not the head on my shoulders that’s driving my actions when I impulsively ask Rihanna to have lunch with me. “I suppose you should deliver the rest of the mail rather than sit here and chat with me. Would you like to continue our conversation over lunch? I usually just go downstairs to the deli, what do you say?” I ask, as I finish addressing the envelope and hand it to her.

“That would be fun, Mr. T.” Rihanna gives me a dazzling smile, stands up and walks toward the door. “I get my break at twelve, okay?”

“Perfect” I say, “I’ll meet you there.” I watch her firm, round ass swish back and forth as she pushes the mail cart down the hallway away from my office. It’s eleven-thirty and I don’t get any work done for the next half hour as I plot how to make my fantasy come true.

I realize that I need a scapegoat to avoid being seen as a dirty old man when I propose a photo session to Rihanna. My idea actually seems plausible by the time I reach the elevator and push the button for the first floor. Rihanna is waiting for me at a booth in the corner, reading the menu when I arrive. I sit across from her and thank her for having lunch with me.

“No. Thank you, Mr. T. Being the only intern in an office of executives and assistants, I usually eat alone. This is a real treat for me.” Rihanna is sharing that intoxicating smile with me again and this time her whole face is lit up in a smile that extends up to the sparkle in her eyes. I definitely want to capture this girl on film or I should say on a memory card.

“A beautiful girl like you should never have to eat alone.” I say, reading the specials on the menu.

“Why Mr. T. Are you flirting with me?” She laughs, playfully batting her eyelashes at me. “It’s not everyday a girl gets invited to lunch by a handsome executive.”

“Why Rihanna, are you flirting with me?” I laugh. “If so, you should probably drop Me. T and just call me Truce, okay?”

“Okay, Truce and please keep calling me Tery, all my friends do.” The waiter comes by and we both order salads and ice tea. After the waiter brings our drinks and some bread, I decide to broach the subject of my fantasy.

“Rihanna, I mean Tery. There’s something I want to ask you, but I’m afraid I might offend you or lessen your opinion of me by asking it.” I’m looking directly in her eyes and waiting for a response.

“Nothing would lessen my opinion of you, Truce. You’re the nicest person in the whole office. My daddy speaks very highly of you. Just ask me whatever you want.”

“Well, this isn’t something I would ever want your father to know about. So what I’d like to do is ask the question, but if you’re offended or uncomfortable, we can forget I ever asked it and get back to discussing college life. Is that alright with you?”

“Wow, you really have me intrigued now. I can’t wait to hear what this mystery question is so I’ll agree to your terms, but I doubt I’ll be offended by anything that you say.” Rihanna is smiling again and leans forward in her seat. My eyes are again drawn to her milk chocolate cleavage visible through her gaping blouse.

“I have a photography business that I work at part time out of my house for a select group of clients with specific requests.” I speak slowly and stress the specific requests. “I photograph models and provide pictures to my clients strictly for their individual use.” This is where the “client” becomes the scapegoat for my own desires. It’s not me, it’s the client that wants these pictures.

“And these pictures. I assume they are nudes or semi-nudes.” Rihanna seems more curious than offended. This could go better than I thought.

“Yes. My clients provide specific requests including the model’s age, appearance and even the exact poses they want. Sometimes they request video, but usually it’s just still photographs. Now for the question.” I pause and take a bite of my salad.

“Yes, I can hardly wait for the big, mystery question. I have to say that you’ve already taken me by surprise. I can only imagine what comes next.” Rihanna picks up her glass of ice tea, her big brown eyes smiling up at me as she sucks the ice tea through the straw.

“I have a client who has requested pictures of a young, black woman. He specifically wants an 18 year old who is not a professional model and has not previously posed nude for anyone. That means I can’t rely on my usual sources and I don’t know any young, black women besides you.

So I thought there might be a remote chance that you would know someone willing to do this. The pay is quite lucrative but she would have to be very attractive. Maybe not as beautiful as you are, but as close to your look as possible. That’s the question. If it offends you, please accept my apology and we’ll forget I even asked it.” I stop talking and look at her. She has her head tilted to the side and is studying me intently. I dip some bread in the salad dressing left on my plate and take a bite, still looking at Rihanna.

“How lucrative?” Rihanna asks, raising her eyebrow and speaking slowly.

“I usually pay $500 per four hour session. It normally takes one or two sessions to get all the required pictures. Anyone you suggest, I would have to interview and make sure they have all the qualifications.” I had decided before lunch that Rihanna naked in my bed was worth $1,000. I could see on her face that she was considering it. It took a few minutes before she spoke.

The fantasy of a white guy for black girls will continue in the next page.

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