blackeddisneyprincess

tall white Dutch girl with no intention of ever fucking white boys

[blackeddisneyprincess]

Your girlfriend has been canceling on you lately. Refuses to hang out with you. Won't say why. You've asked her time and again, and the best she's come up with is work. She just has to work long hours, she says. It's really demanding, she says. Wears her out, but it's a nice environment, and she's getting fulfilled at that place. So, what do you do? What can you do? The only thing on your mind is her body, since it's been a while. You know, been a while since you've done anything. The only thing on your mind is her warm mouth, her tight pussy, you want her in a bad way, and you decide to drop in on her workplace. The office is all but abandoned, and when you climb up to her floor, what you find isn't exactly what you were hoping for. The first thing you see is her ass. That ample, doughy ass, and it's being squeezed, handled, caressed, just not by you. No, it's her boss. That big, black, tower of a man. Her black boss. Her strong boss. Her powerful, rich, charismatic and superior boss. He's got you beat in every single department, and now you see just how much better he is than you. You just stand there, defeated. Feeling your little thing grow to an unimpressive couple of inches, watching your lovely girlfriend give herself to him. You see, despite the way he's touching her, she's not resisting. No, she welcomes him.

You watch her make out with him, and to add insult to injury, she starts talking about you in hushed moans. She confesses to her big, black boss how neglected she's felt. How bad she needs sex. How useless you've been. It's lies, actually. You've been clamoring for her to spend time with you. You've been ready, willing, desperate for it, really, but she's telling a different story. She tells her big, black boss how much she needs a man. A real man. A black man. A guy with a big, black cock to split her in half. Stretch her out. Make her cum and make her his. You stand there, lost. Powerless. Rapidly becoming an afterthought, while your girl tells her boss everything he wants to hear. It doesn't take long for them to get down to business either. Within minutes, he has her folded over the nearest desk, spanking that big, soft ass you've been wanting so badly. He has her in his grasp, his black hands on her hips and his big, black cock reaching spots inside her sweet, pink pussy you've never even dreamed about. No, all you can do is stand there, while he is helping her rediscover sex entirely. She cums in under a minute, even. Something that takes you at least ten, if you can manage at all. She cums again, which shocks you, more than it surprises you. For fuck's sake, it's like you're spying on an entirely different girl, now. A girl that makes the lewdest noises, utters the sluttiest phrases, and can't help but keep cumming on a cock that's at least three times your size. And still, still, the most you can do is stand there and take it. By the time you're rubbing your thing through your pants, she deals you the final blow. Her boss is about to nut, and she's not telling him to pull out.

[blackeddisneyprincess]

While being a good girl can mean a number of things, I like to think I've been a good girl for most of my life, if you know what I mean. Hardly stepped out of line, always listened to my daddy, but there comes a time when an innocent, blue-eyed white girl starts looking at other daddies too. If you know what I mean. In my case, it was the last place I thought I'd fine one, and it's something out of a bad movie, honestly. Living in Africa, in this white, sheltered, and honestly pretty racist bubble, there was an older guy at school my classmates liked to make fun of. He was just a couple years older, but like a janitor, handyman, fixing things in and around the school building, and my classmates were giving him a hard time about it. It wasn't actually racist much, but they poked fun at him, and I could tell it wasn't helping his confidence. I felt bad for the guy. Thing is, he wasn't just the janitor. He was also tall, big, and black. Imagine the kind of shit my classmates would have given me, if I'd stood up for this guy in public. I never stood up for him, in the end, but I did befriend him a bit. Walked down the road with him sometimes, and, yes, one time I also had him around the house. We had gone for a run together, since he was also into running, like me, and one harmless joke turned into an amazing experience.

I had joked about taking a shower together, you see. We were both tired, sweaty, and, apparently, crazy, crazy horny. I know I was, but from a rather wholesome place, maybe? I felt bad for him. I liked him. I wanted to comfort him, and I could tell he wouldn't say no, if I proposed something forbidden. Yes, forbidden. There's nothing wrong with white girls and black guys, don't get me wrong. If anything, that's the direct opposite of forbidden. It's beautiful, it's the future, and some people even believe it ought to be mandatory. It was forbidden in a different sense. In the sense of a soft, innocent, inexperience, teenage white girl about to be ruined for other men by a massive big black cock. I remember kissing this guy in the shower, slow at first, then fast. Hard. Hot. I must have been panting like a little bitch, tacitly begging him for what I knew he could give me. I knew, because I could see it, in the shower. I could see every vein, and every inch, every single detail that was about to make me cum.

It was so, so hot, and I figured if my classmates only knew, they wouldn't have started bullying him in the first place. Instead, they would have respected this guy. Been afraid of him, even. Been intimidated, because this guy was, yes, only a couple years older, but he put every boy in school to shame. He was huge.

Needless to say, I didn't brag about it back then. Didn't put him, or myself on the spot, but I like to think it made the bullying worse. Every time they made jokes, cast glances, he only had to look at me and see my smile, remember what he did to me, and know instantly that he was everyone's superior. Yes, everybody's superior. All my classmates, all those stupid, little boys? They could never measure up. Never compete. Never hold me in that steaming shower like he did. Lift me up like he did. Press my bare back against the cold stone wall, my thighs on his arms and my ass in his hands, taking inch after inch, thrust after thrust, moaning, bucking, fucking and begging him to cum. To make me cum. To cum together, over and over. He fucked my lights out that afternoon. He fucked my lights out again, in my bedroom. Then, in the hallway. He fucked me three times before he left that day, and though I can't recall how many times he made me cum, I remember one was more powerful than the other. It was dazzling, numbing and liberating. It was everything I had dreamed about big, black cock, and more. So. Much. More. Every time I saw him after, fixing up things around school, or just walking the grounds, I seriously had to excuse myself. Go to the bathroom, pull my panties to the side and touch myself to the memories he'd given me.

[blackeddisneyprincess]

With black guys, I've noticed a kind of natural, evolutionary, primordial attraction. Like I'm Eve, and they're Adam, if that makes sense? No words, no complications, just my naked femininity and his strong, virile, overpowering masculinity. Just my curves, my excitement, my fertility, ready and willing to be taken by his drive, his big, black cock and his potent seed. Really, when I'm with a black guy and we ditch the clothes? It's beautiful. It's raw. It's natural, evolutionary, primordial and entrancing. Hypnotizing, indeed. White girls know what I'm talking about, or they will, at any rate. White boys? Definitely not. Sorry, but you have no idea, have you?

I almost feel bad for you guys. To miss out on all that feeling, that excitement, that intimacy and beauty. To know what it's like to have a panting, glistening girl in front of you, practically begging you to plow her into next week. To know what it feels like, to plunge into those warm, wet depths, elicit the lewdest moans and make a young, ripe woman cum, cum, and cum some more. Over and over again, until you lose your final ounce of stamina and let go, blow that load, and nut deep, deep inside her. It's one of the greatest things in life, I think, and it's amazing that white girls and black men get to experience it. Just sucks for you white boys, I guess. Oh well.

[blackeddisneyprincess]

Fucking black guys is more than just hot, raunchy, wild, passionate, mind-numbing, blissful, animalistic sex, you know? It's also romantic, beautiful, cute, and wonderful. Contrary to what some messed-up white boys might think, white girls and black men can have incredibly healthy relationships.

Doesn't mean they don't jump each other's bones all the time, though, and I do mean all the time. Fuck, I mean. The black guys I've dated? When we weren't eating or sleeping, we were fucking. I don't think they took me out on dates all that much. No, they just spent hours and hours inside my warm, wet pussy.

Where was I? Right. Healthy relationships! Yes, black guys and white girls aren't just aesthetically pleasing, leading the new cultural norm and looking damn good while at it, they make excellent couples. Modern couples. Healthy couples. Beautiful couples. They're the new dream, the ideal, the future!

Fuck, the black guys I've dated though? I mean, seriously. I'd spend days in between meeting them, just wishing time would go by faster. Wishing I were back at their place again, in whatever position, taking big, black dick over and over, cumming my mind away and begging them to fill me with thick, sticky nut.

Healthy relationships, really. Healthy in every possible way. The cultural way, sure but also the biological way. The procreational way. The breeding way, if you want to call it that. Yes, the way where a young, white, ripe and fertile woman gets her pussy resized by a strong, powerful black man. Exceedingly healthy, really.

[blackeddisneyprincess]

Not all men were created equal. That's a fact. There's girls, there's white girls. There's white boys, and then there's men. Black men. Big men. Tough men. Men who know how to please me, how to fill me, how to fuck me and make me cum. Actual men. Powerful men. Black men. Let that sink in.

It's fine, though. Isn't it? It's fine, that I surrender to black men. It's totally fine, that I only let black men look at me, desire me, want me, lust after me. Why? Because they know they can take me. They know what to do to me. I know it, too. Yes, from experience. Yes, I'm talking about things you wish you could, but can't do to a girl like me.

With black guys, it's just different. There's an unspoken, public secret that we all love and cherish. They have what it takes. They got what white girls want, more and more, and can't get enough of. It's a guarantee, that a black guy will make me cum. It's a given, a promise, a truth that makes me so very fucking wet.

White boys wouldn't know the first thing about it. I'm sorry, but it's just the truth. Actually, no. It's the truth, sure, but I'm not sorry. I'm not, never was, never will be. White boys can just, I don't know, do something else. Fuck their fists, maybe. Pump it in front of their computers. Cum to porn. I don't care.

What I do care about, is this liberating, intoxicating culture that's taking root and taking over. The culture of white girls and black men. This new, vibrant, exciting culture of racism coming to an end. Black on white, ironically. It's that simple, really. Honestly, it's great, and I'm happy it's taking over. Black men rule, white boys drool!

[blackeddisneyprincess]

So, it's more or less official. In a few weeks, I'm going to see my boyfriend again. That's right, my boyfriend. My big, black, tall, strong, skilled, hung, boyfriend. Just thinking about seeing him again makes me so excited! Thinking about what he'll do to me makes me excited even more. Desperately, dripping wet, really.

Imagine, he's big, black, with inches and inches of big, black cock, and he hasn't seen me for months. Imagine, little old me showing up on his doorstep in a few weeks. Crazy, crazy horny, aching for it, begging him to black me for hours and hours. Right there. On the spot. It's going to be wild.

This blog is starting to have an influence on me, though. Part of me wishes some white boys are going to be near, when I meet my boyfriend again. Part of me wishes some cute, small-dick white boys are going to be able to hear us. Hear us fuck. Hear him take me. Hear him pound my pussy, make me beg for more, fill me and fuck me until he buries his nut deep inside my tight, white pussy and floods it to overflow. Gosh, part of me wishes some stupid white boys are going to lose their minds over it. Jerk their dicks and make a mess, listening to a real, powerful, black man fuck the funny out of his submissive, white girlfriend.

[blackeddisneyprincess]

You get home after a long day at work. You're beat, you're hungry, and you'll be glad if you can see your pretty girlfriend again and maybe get her to fix you some dinner. She's preoccupied, though. If you can't tell by the sounds when the front door closes behind you, you soon find out by walking in on her and the black guy next door. He's huge. He's strong. He's hung, and he's making out with your girl. You? You're small. Puny. Useless, and your girlfriend knows it. It's been like this for a while, and your body is getting used to it. Her body is, too. In fact, she is as wet for the black guy putting his hands on her white body, as you are hard for what's about to come.

You can't explain it exactly, but it turns you on. It makes you hard, seeing your girl get so excited for another man. A bigger man. A better man. A black man. It turns you on, losing her to another guy. Drives you crazy, and desperate, watching her totally ignore you and surrendering to the will of a superior, black man.

The way they kiss. The way he touches her. The way she looks at him. It makes you desperate to cum. Yes, desperate. There's little else that does it for you anymore, these days. You want it. You need it. You have to lose her, pass her up, stand idly by while you get replaced. He's going to fuck her like you can't. Make her cum, like you never could. He is going to fulfil her every desire, stretch her out, split her in half and pound her soft, sweet pussy so thoroughly, her moans will keep the neighbors up all night. You know your place, and they know it too. You can watch, play with your thing maybe, but you're never going near her warm, moist sex again. Ever.

[blackeddisneyprincess]

I guess I don't post as much as I did in the first couple days, but there's that. Been busy, been tired, been touching myself a lot less lately. That can only mean one thing, can't it? I need more. More thoughts. More fantasies. More big black cock to think about. I should get my head back on straight, find a balance between doing what I should, and doing what I really shouldn't. The former being school, of course, but the latter being my dedication, infatuation, and intoxication with black guys. It really is like a switch in my head, now that I think about it. For days, I'm too busy, too preoccupied, but sitting here, writing about black men, makes me wet again. Instantly. Immediately. Excessively. Yes, you read that right. I don't just get wet. I get soaked. Dripping. Hot, bothered, call it what you like, but I catch a damn fever thinking about big, bad, black men, and the only prescription is the kind of porn I know we're both into. The kind where white girls like me get destroyed by black kings. Where cute, white, innocent young ladies like myself bid a big bye-bye to white boys and settle for nothing less than inches and inches of black, thuggish, powerful black cock. I guess I'm just writing down what I'm thinking right now, off the bat and unfiltered. I wonder if that's not just the thing you like, though. Is it? Do tell.

[blackeddisneyprincess]

It's annoying sometimes, the way white boys question me about black men. They want to know everything, every detal, and they want me to repeat it over, and over, and over again. They can't get enough of it. Neither can I, but at least I get to cum, right? With big black cock, I get to have fun until I literally pass out. I don't know what white boys get out of it exactly, that's to say, the kind of white boy that plays with his little dick, reading blogs like mine, apparently. I swear, some are pretty cute, sweet, and just nice. They join me on this wild ride, we talk a bit, share fantasies, that's all good. Others though, really. They're just weird. Freaks. Pervs. Creeps. It's pathetic, really, and I don't want to imagine how useless and perverted they must be in real life. It's disturbing to even think about. Fortunately, there's still enough healthy people around. Pretty white girls, big, strong black guys, and friendly white boys to admire us from a distance. Not those pervs, though. Honestly, those losers should just leave girls like me alone.

[blackeddisneyprincess]

Someone asked me if I like it when a lot of boys want me, bad, but can't get me. I replied that I do, that I think that goes for everybody. What's not to like, being wanted and desired? In my position, I guess it's a little different, but it still turns me on. Yes, I love it when boys want to fuck me. When they look at me, look at my curves, my blonde hair, my blue eyes and pale skin. When they crave me, wish they could bend me over and fuck me, can't wait to get home to pump their dicks and cum to the very thought of it. Especially when I'm with a black guy, imagine the looks! Imagine stuff going through a white boy's brain, all those things he wish he could do to me, only to realize it's a black guy who gets to do them, and not him. Yes, that certainly, absolutely, most definitely turns me on. Makes me excited. Makes me wet, knowing a black man gets to put me on my back, gets to kiss me, gets to squeeze my soft tits and my creamy thighs, caress my hips and make me sigh. Make me so desperate I roll my eyes and stick my tongue out, beg him to fuck me. Beg him to cum deep inside me. Beg him to creampie and breed me. Gosh, what's not to like, knowing a white boy gets a nosebleed thinking about that stuff, while a powerful, black man with a massive black cock gets to do that to me?

[blackeddisneyprincess]

Tonight, I watched a movie which had a black guy and a white girl in it. Nothing too raunchy, it wasn't that kind of movie, but still. They kissed, they were a couple in the story, and I straight up identified with her so, so much. Yes, I grew up around black boys. Sure, all my boyfriends have been black, and my current one is, too, but damn it if I'm not attracted to black men anyhow. Seriously, in any universe, I think I'd be with a black guy. They're strong, charming, passionate, brave, athletic, did I mention strong? Did I mention big black cock, too? It's not just a factor, you know. Not for girls, anyhow. I know white boys get angsty and insecure when girls bring up size, but that's for a very good reason. Size matters. More than white boys will ever know, ironically. So, yes, there's that too. There's what black men can give me, what they've given me, and what they're giving to white girls around the world. It's a gift, and white girls get to have a taste. More than that, too, to be honest. God, the taste alone is, well, I'm rambling here, but you get the point. Tonight, watching that movie, something occurred to me that's been popping up in my mind more, and more often lately. I love black men. I love black cock. I don't think I'll ever fuck a white boy, and if I do, it's going to be out of pity or to save the world. Black guys rule, white boys drool.

[blackeddisneyprincess]

I keep thinking about my boyfriend. I miss him, I miss his body, I miss his big black cock and I miss the way he makes me cum. I keep thinking about how lonely he must be, too, but I'm starting to have trust issues. I know I shouldn't, but, then again, maybe I should. Lots of white girls travel the Caribbean, lots of girls can bump into my boyfriend, and lots of them probably want to fuck him. Even the ones with boyfriends back home. Especially those with boyfriends back home, I guess. What happens on the islands, stays on the islands, and those poor, small-dick white boys can't do anything about it, even if they wanted to. They'll be miles away, while their girls go out, meet black guys, and spend all night long getting thoroughly blacked. They'll cum, cum, and cum some more, fall in love with big, black cock, and only worry about putting up appearances again when they land back home. I've seen it happen. It happens all the time. Part of me is worried my boyfriend's seeing it happen too, if you know what I mean. I'm a little worried he's balls-deep in white girls, morning, noon, and night. Fucking white girls. Pounding white pussy. Having a different girl over every day and night, maybe even every few hours, to take his big black cock in her hands, down her throat, and deep inside her tight, white pumpkin. On the one hand, he's my boyfriend, and I want him to feel good. In that sense, I don't really mind, because I know how amazing it must feel for him to fuck white pussy, over and over again, until he can't take it anymore and nut as deep as possible. I just feel desperate, frustrated, because I could really use his big black cock, too. I want to cum too. I want him to fuck me, feel him inside me, claw at the sheets and moan with every last breath in my lungs for him to breed my little, warm, wet, white pussy. Then again, who am I fooling? You're probably a white boy, reading this right now, and I guess you don't have a fucking clue what I'm talking about. It's not like you can imagine. Well, you can imagine, but that's all. You don't know what it actually, really feels like, do you? No, you don't. Don't pretend. We both know. We all know. At least I know what I'm missing, but you? You miss your hand, maybe. My blog posts, perhaps. Porn, and what filthy little things you cook up in your mind. It's fine, though. The world needs losers, too.

[blackeddisneyprincess]

When I see something like this, it's not hard to imagine my self in the pretty blonde's shoes. I'm blonde. I'm white. I'm into black guys, and I know what a black man can do to me. I know, from experience, how wet I get for big, black cock, and I know, from experience, how hard I cum on big, black cock. I know how I keep wanting more, from the second a black man pushes his big, thick cock past my soft lips and makes me take every inch. I know all about it, and some part of me pities white boys, who have lost their girls to powerful black men, keep losing out on girls because they choose black, or will never even know what a warm, wet pussy feels like. Part of me pities them, but the other part knows this is working. Knows this is right. White girls and black men are trying to end racism. They're coupling, mating, having intense, amazing sex, and making the world better. White boys just seem to complain a lot, make stupid jokes, come up with conspiracy theories and bigotry. The docile ones at least know to sit back, watch, and pump it to better man taking care of girls. So, depending on who you are in this story, you can have a very different impression of this picture. Personally, I get wet just thinking about a black man fucking the funny out of me, and I think I'll go ahead and touch myself now. Be a good boy and join me, will you?

[blackeddisneyprincess]

White boys can be weird, jealous, into me or hard into being cucked. Sure, but black guys can be intense too. I remember one guy that was into all of the above, and he didn't feel the need to hide it either. I was making out with him at a party, I could tell he was hard, and I was getting wetter by the second.

The things he said, though. I mean, I didn't even know about all this stuff that much back then, but he just opened up and opened my eyes a little. He told me that I wasn't the only white girl into big, black cock. Told me it was a thing. Told me white boys liked it, too and loved losing girls to guys like him.

He told me how hard he was going to fuck me. How much he was going to make me moan, and how many times he was going to make me cum. He told me how every white boy at the party was going to be sick with envy, by the time they could hear him pound my pussy in one of the bedrooms upstairs.

He told me a lot more, after that. Told me I'd do nothing to stop him. Nothing to keep him from smashing my wet pussy over, and over, and over again. He got me to confess, as well. Got me to tell him that, yes I wanted it. Yes, I needed it. Yes, I wanted big, black cock and I wasn't going to let white boys stand in the way.

He even dared me. Said I'd be begging him to cum deep inside me, all in the next hour. I must have laughed at first, but, like I said, he was intense. He was right, too. In the next hour, he made me beg for all kinds of things. Made me plead. Made me ask, pretty please, to fill me to overflow, and he did. Over and over again.

[blackeddisneyprincess]

You've had a huge crush on her since forever. Since you first moved into the building, first saw her walking down the lobby, first heard her moans through the thin walls. You've wanted her. Badly. Ached for her. Needed her. You've jerked yourself stupid, night after night, imagining her tight, soft pussy around your cock. You've heard other guys fucking her, really, really pounding her, and you figured you'd have your shot sooner or later, since she's clearly putting out. One night, it's dead quiet on the other side of the wall, so you're planning to go out. When you get to the elevator however, your little dream's crushed into a thousand little, small-dick pieces.

There she is, the object of your lust. Your target. Your aim. Your little pervy project, making out with a black guy twice your size. That is, he's huge compared to you, and you have to force yourself not to imagine how massive he is in other regards. Not that you can pull that off, though. You can't help yourself, watching the slut next door make out with him. You know it. Instantly. This girl's black-only. She knows what she wants. She's chosen black, not you. Black men, not you. Big black cock, and not your little thing. You feel a gut-wrenching envy take hold of you, and yet you feel yourself getting hard, too. It all falls into place.

The moaning on the other side of the wall. The screaming, the grunting, the pounding and the rutting. The sounds of two people having passionate, filthy sex. Steamy, sweaty, hot, romantic, lust-drenched and cum-soaked sex. The kind of sex you've been listening to, is the kind of sex you'll never be able to give her. It's the kind she needs black guys for. The kind black men are able to give her. With that terrible stab of jealousy, you have to admit defeat. You know what it means. Every single night she's made you pump your dick and drain those white balls, it was the sound of a black bull fucking her lights out that made you nut.

Even when she breaks the kiss, she's yet to notice you. Just like there's a wall between your place and hers, she doesn't see you. To her, you hardly exist. She only has eyes for black guys. Only has eyes for real men. Only wants big black cock. You feel crushed, but you have to agree with her. You both know what she needs.

Finally, her latest black bull takes her by the hand and leads her down the hallway. For a moment, her eyes meet yours, and she mouths something sweet. Sweet, not sexy. Adorable, not flirty. She greets you like you're a friend from work. An acquaintance. A guy behind her in the line for coffee. Not even so much as her kid brother. No, rather her least favorite friend's little brother. To her, you barely rate a sidebar. Still, there's something sinister in the way she looks at you. Something telling you she knows. As if you're under her spell, you wait in front of the elevator, and you watch her go back to her apartment with that big, black guy. You wait until the door closes behind them, watch the elevator slide shut, turn on your heel and go back to your place, too. Your dick's hard, so hard. Your mind's foggy, filled to overflow with desire for what's to come. Tonight, you'll hear her cum again, and again, and again, but for the first time, you'll know. You'll know she cums for big, black cock only.

[blackeddisneyprincess]

I've been into this idea of cucking a white boy, lately. Not just any boy, but like a boyfriend who enjoys losing me to bigger, better, badder black men. A boy who knows I love big black cock and encourages me to get plenty of it. A boy who puts my pleasure first. A boy who stays pussyfree while I get to cum.

I don't know, but picturing a lifestyle like that turns me on lately. Going through that routine of texting and teasing my boyfriend, getting his hopes up a little, before reminding him I'll never, ever fuck him. No, I meet up with black guys instead. I'm into black guys, instead. I fuck black guys. Instead.

Because, as I'm sure my white boyfriend will know, black guys have what it takes. They're charming, skilled, hung and just what I need. They have inches and inches of it, hours of stamina, and a very, very impressive volume of something else. If you're anything like the white boyfriend I imagine, you'll know what I mean.

Honestly, just coming face to face with a big black cock, in that lifestyle, will likely make me forget I even have a white boyfriend. I'll ignore him completely, leave him texting and calling me, forget all about him while I prepare for a long, exciting night of getting blacked properly. A long night of cumming on big black cock.

[blackeddisneyprincess]

I'm starting to think some white boys actually do like me, but I have a hard time imagining what a typical date would look like. You know, dinner and a movie doesn't cut it for white boys. At least, not the white boys I have in mind. Sure, I'd meet them in town, but not in the typical fashion, I guess.

I'd probably get some desperate, angsty text, asking me if we're still good to go. I fish my phone out of my purse, tell my white boy I'm not about to cancel on what's going to happen, and, sure, we'll meet up I guess. Not to really talk to each other or anything, though. No. Just to meet up and head to the nearest hotel.

Because, the hotel's where it's going to happen. In the very room my white boy will have wasted money on, I'll meet a man who's going to tend to my needs. A real man. A strong man. A black man. The boy is just there to watch. Cheer me on, maybe. I don't know. He wants to watch, so I'll let him.

I'll probably catch him peeking all the same, from the corner of my eye. Adore me, worship me from afar. Ogle me and imagine a reality where he, and not a black stranger, gets fill and fuck my pussy all night long. Such a reality's probably painfully precious to a sorry loser, but so very, very far from a possibility.

No, even in those final moments a white boy will have with me alone, studying my curves and my hips as I walk down the hallway, he'll wake up to the truth. I'm not going to fuck him. I'm not going to make him cum. I might not even look him in the eye, the entire time. No, I'm there to have real sex with a real man. A black man.

Those knocks might just slap the last hope out of that poor, small-dick white boy. Crush his dreams and make him face his decisions. He's dating me, in a way, but just to watch a black man fuck me in front of him. Sure, he gets to be with me, in a sense, but just to spectate, stroke, and admire a real man's work.

I doubt I'll be able to resist giving him one last look. A look of pity, to be brutally honest. I can't imagine what he gets out of it, watching a black man enjoy me in all sorts of ways. Ways he wishes he could taste and know. I don't get it, but it's fun. Turns me on. Makes me wet. Not for him, but for my black bull, of course.

Thank god for black bulls, especially those who are on board with this whole lifestyle. It gets me big, black cock, it gets white boys a chance to see sex up close, and it delivers black men hot, tight, warm, wet, soft, pink pussy, right on their doorstep. They don't need to make any effort, and they still get all the pussy.

Once I get down to it with my black lover, is likely to be the hardest part for any white boy dating me. Actually seeing it happen. Witnessing my lust, my abandonment, my hunger for big, black cock. I wonder what will sting worse, in that moment. Knowing another man's about to fuck me, or being totally ignored by me.

Because I will ignore my white boy. Yes, he's paid for it all. Yes, he's modern enough to encourage me to have real, rewarding, amazing sex. Sure, but he has no place in the bedroom, other than watching. He might as well be on the other end of a laptop screen, for all I care. When I'm fucking a black guy, he ceases to exist.

What else can I do? I can't help it. I'm a young, fit, fertile white girl. A ripe cherry. A juicy peach. I'm not going to deny myself, I'm not going to deny a strong, black man, and I'm not going to pretend I care about some small-dick loser watching me. He'll have his fun, I guess. I don't care. I just don't. I only care about big, black cock.

Those final moments have got to hit hard, though. Poor white boy, wanting me so bad, but losing me so casually. Poor thing, wishing he could measure up. Poor loser, forced to watch a black man enjoy me in ways he dreams about every night. Look at me, though! I'm almost talking as if I care. Imagine that! How silly.