My story of interracial breeding took place in the early 80’s and is a tale I’ve been trying to put down on paper for a long time. Despite the number of years now past those precious yet vivid memories are still fresh in my mind. Especially when I recall how strongly many of those black studs had a mind to seeding what was for most, their first white, teenage girl. Lorissa was a well-known and I’d say popular girl in our normally quiet, farming community. Partly as her Aunt Catherine had such strong ties with the Church but mostly because ‘Lori’ dressed herself up like a doll and still sucked her thumb. I guess you could have said that most ‘decent’ folks around these parts where real fond of her in a protective sort of way. At seventeen she was a flower just waiting to be plucked.
Back during the time of my tale our little hovel of Stanton had a population of maybe five hundred. Set in the deep American south we were no different to any other country town. White families owned nearly all the good land and saw themselves as respectable God fearing people. Though I guess we had plenty of those who still held their principles too high for their own good. Particularly when it came to mixing with the surrounding farm hands, most of whom it has to be said were Negro’s. Earning a living in the cotton fields was back breaking work but it put money on the table and had supported some black families for generations. What people really took exception too was when they started moving into town and setting up their own businesses. Times change and I had begun to notice how the young black men of our time were no longer willing to be the underclass. Folks in Stanton though could be real set in their ways. Maybe they woke up one morning and found out that it was they whom were the minority now.
Catherine and Lorissa McAllen had their small farmhouse a couple of miles from the centre of town. It overlooked my own and as my own wife had died some years earlier, I’d become friendly with them both. Good natured as Catherine was she never appreciated the growing flood of lowly black workers camped on her doorstep; some of whose Grand-daddies her late husband Earl had paid peanuts to build that house and farm the surrounding lands. Change worried her as it did many and citing safety the town was off limits to Lori. Catherine was worried that her nieces innocence, long dark hair and beautiful, China doll figure might just get her into trouble. The girl had always been very pretty. Slender with beautiful tits, she had one of those sweet, naive faces, big brown eyes and a giddy curious nature. Catherine has always been wary of how easily led her niece could be yet it was no fault of her own if she was ‘restricted’. Being a lonely girl with no friends, except for the few yard animals she named, it was always easy to lead Lori along. Teaching at home, as Catherine had, hadn’t helped matters.
Tom Granger and his wife Danielle where friends of mine who had only just moved to Stanton. A pervert of similar standing to myself, Tom had been bowled over by the strict, old fashioned nature that still hung around so strongly. We all knew it. Maybe even Catherine, that our ways only had a few years left. Hell we might start seeing Negro man taking white wives some day! What was the world coming too! Of course, feeling the injustice Tom was eager to speed things on. He was privileged therefore that in Danielle he had a wife who not only enjoyed but relished in exhibitionism. She had been fucking black males indiscriminately since she had arrived and revelled in the impact her actions had on her neighbours. A fine, full bodied woman she would often be dressed up at all times of the day, wear very short skirts or go without a bra. Interracial sex was a taboo so unheard on in Stanton you didn’t even breathe it. Yet in at least one home a white wife was being given a royal working over by big old Negro cocks.
Tom was quickly labelled as trouble maker and Danielle a slut. No one had seen anything like them before and didn’t do much to talk to them after but they didn’t mind. Tom liked his wife’s attitude and she of course had her favourite ‘Bulls’. The angry ones, the young ones and those who took a particular satisfaction in fucking white. He took pictures and shared them with me so after a time I had albums of Danielle that never failed to get my pulse racing. When Tom began talking about a gorgeous teenage girl he’d seen in town with a church collection tin it became my turn to supply. Lacking in pretty young women, the black men of Stanton had long since turned an eye to the sweet country girl who lived with her Aunt just out of town. I often heard it joked that many would like to give Lori something other than her thumb to suck on. Yet as she was always so eager and willing to help and please I knew before long my neighbours niece would be the subject of a lengthy black dicking.
I was at their well kept, respectable farmhouse one Sunday evening when the chance came. If Catherine knew I was the type of guy who liked watching young sluts like her niece get fucked in the butt she’d never have let me set foot in that house again. Instead I was sitting at their lush dining table enjoying my usual roast; Lori opposite me and Catherine at her side. I knew Catherine was stumped on what to do with her and the worry was effecting her health (just imagine when Lorissa had a black baby bulging at her belly). Clumsy around the house all she liked doing was dressing her dolls and taking her precious dance lessons every fortnight. Catherine wasn’t without money. Though the lands were now sold off her late husband Earl had left her a tidy sum. In fact she ironically paid a black instructor come out to tutor her niece once a week. If it had been anything other than Ballet she would never have gone along with it but I had always been grateful. The sight of Lorissa in a tight leotard was one to behold.
She had told me more than once her silly, secret dream of making it as a star and with an imagination that was as clear and sweet as I’d ever known I knew that was the way to get her. That night, I have to say the girl did look great. Her usual shy self. Near to tears when her aunt scolded her for dropping a spoon. As usual Catherine was bemoaning the state of matters, determined to raise Lori a good Catholic and always complaining of the lack of creditable young men in town. I guess she hoped some hardworking, decent young buck would spring up from somewhere and had always chided even me for not remarrying. That night Lori had on a starched white dress and corset, buttoned up to her neck, with her dark hair tumbling all down the back and her beautiful, round tits pressing magnificently through the fabric. Somehow there was something different that night. Extra silver on the table and both Lori and Catherine in their best. I was about to get my shot.
‘….I don’t know why you didn’t remarry Jonathan’ Catherine was saying but there was something in her voice uncharacteristically like nerves. She had her hair up and despite her age had a temperament as sharp as a knife. ‘Handsome man like you’. I remember looking up and smiling politely. Having grown used to this type of talk I knew how to deal with it. ‘Don’t you think so Lorissa?’ Catherine continued. ‘Isn’t Jonathan a handsome man?’.
‘Yes Ma’am. Very handsome’ Lori smiled shyly letting her eyes drop. I grinned, feeling my cock getting hard as I let my eyes linger on the teenagers fine, firm cleavage. How much would I have liked to see that pretty mouth suck a big black dick.
‘I’ve been thinking Jonathan. For a while now. Your not getting any younger and well…maybe it’s time you had a young wife to look after you’. I nearly choked on my beef. Though when I looked up I could see Catherine was serious, if struggling a little with the idea too. Lori was watching me intently and smiling. An innocent happy look. ‘She’s a dizzy girl of course but I’ve schooled her best I can’ she added pushing back her hair. I felt my temperature rising as I looked across the table at the girl, her aunt nodding approvingly while spelling out her qualities in my ear. Maybe I was too shocked to reply. I just looked at her, the throbbing of my cock sending waves down my legs. Lori, blushing under my horny stare.
When the meal was over Catherine wearily began clearing the plates and as was usual for these nights Lorissa beamed and asked me if I’d come upstairs to see her dolls. Since she was very young the teenager had been collecting them and had a new one to show me. We'd done this many times and as Catherine worked in the kitchen I followed Lori into her bland, teenage bedroom, my heart pounding and absorbed in the bright smile of the stunning girl. Downstairs I could hear the sound of plates and water. It was safe enough. Lori’s room had yellow walls with two solitary paintings above the dresser. The bed was a smart white and pink with a holy cross-nailed high above it. In the corner was the basket with her dolls and stuffed toys. She’d never thrown anything away and began taking the dolls out of the basket and lining them up on the floor. They were each groomed and wearing pretty lace dresses. Long hair in ribbons.
I shut the bedroom door behind me making Lori turn with a start. She looked up and smiled, the doll in her hand for me to see.
‘You like her?’.
‘She’s very pretty’ I said, my cock pounding it was so hard. ‘But not as pretty as you’. The girl smiled, blushing, her gaze falling to the floor. I could tell she was nervous on being alone with me and her aunt wouldn’t be far behind. Taking a chance I reached out and rolled my fingers over her left breast. Lori stiffened, her eyes wide in surprise as I grew bolder. Taking a firm hold, I squeezed one pert, heavy breast and then the other. They felt warm and the nipples stiff even inside the starched fabric and bra. Jacking my dick with my other hand I realised she was grinning. Enjoying the naughty attention and thrill of being touched.
‘You like that don’t you?’ I grinned. Her cheeks a little flustered and red Lori nodded. ‘Lets just keep that between you and me’.
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