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A Question Of Consent
Tara was ready to love again. After having been betrayed by her Boyfriend,
traded to his college cronies for his initiation into their sordid frat house,
she thought she could never love, or even lust again. But that had been over a
year ago, and she was getting out more often now.
Nearing the end of her beer at the rocking and rolling nightclub, she noticed
herself being stared at. By a black man about her age. But as soon as he
noticed that she noticed, he looked away shyly. She hadn't seen him before,
maybe he too was an outcast in this lonely college town, where negros were even
more rare than gang-r*pe victims. And he was kinda cute--his physique much
more masculine than the other guys who flirted with her or bought her drinks.
Could she see herself with a black man? she thought, for the first time in her
life. It simply wasn't a subject that came up among her family or friends. Of
course, she could! The answer came to her instantly. Racism was stupid.
While she was thinking, he got up and began walking toward her, and her heart
sped up. He walked right past, however, en-route to the men's room. When he
passed within arms reach of her, she noticed how tall he was. Fully a foot
taller than her, and with all those muscles, he certainly had her outweighed by
more than 200 pounds. Surely no one that manly could take any interest in a
tiny little lady like herself.
Tara, at 5 foot nothin', weighted 100lbs, fully clothed, soaking wet, with
change in her pockets. No eating disorders, no exercise fetish. In fact, she
was a total couch potato, and had just had 1/2 of a chocolate chip cookie on
her way here, and wasn't even drinking lite beer! (Of course, one beer was all
she could handle without getting kinda tipsy.)
Suddenly, he was standing beside her at the bar, waving to get the bartenders
attention. When he'd succeeded, he pointed to Tara's empty bottle, and held up
2 fingers. Moments later, they each had a fresh beer, and he smiled warmly at
her, nodding toward the packed dancefloor and holding out his hand to lead her.
"Sure", she shouted over the music, and followed him there.
No sooner had they began to boogie, than the band swung into a slow song. She
looked up at him, and he drew her close, his arms engulfing her loosely but
completely as she pressed her cheek to his heart. His masculine scent engulfed
her senses as a feeling of surrender overtook her. She knew with sudden
certainty that she would sleep with this gentle giant of a man tonight.
It seemed to her that they were the only ones on the crowded dancefloor, where
they remained until after the last notes of the band's last song had faded
away. And then they REALLY were the last ones still dancing by the time the
last notes of the juke box had also died. This in spite of the fact that he
was clearly not a good dancer. (Or maybe she just had high--and therefore
subconsciously racist--expectations based on what she'd heard about the
rhythmic inclinations of colored folks.) Last call came and went as they
stared into each others eyes, still embracing on the dancefloor, still swaying
to music that was no longer there. The lights came up brightly. "OH MY GOSH!"
Shouted the bouncer, more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice directed to
those who failed to take the hint. "IS IT REALLY THAT LATE. GEE, I GUESS
EVERYONE'S GONNA BE LEAVING NOW. COME AGAIN, WHEN YOU CAN'T STAY QUITE AS
LONG, OK PEOPLE!!!" Then, "C'MON, LET'S GOOOOOO!"
Arm in arm, the newfound soulmates slowly meandered toward the door. Once
outside, he guided her toward his car, but she pulled him toward the sidewalk.
She lived only blocks away, she explained, as she pulled him along by the arm.
Although he hadn't heard a word she said, he followed along blindly. It
wouldn't have mattered if she had said "I'm taking you to a KKK rally", he
would have followed this petite goddess anywhere at this point.
Normally, she was just a little frightened walking the 1/4 mile from the bar to
her house late at night. But no one would dare hassle her with a big hunk of
man escorting her along the winding path. Once inside her tiny apartment, she
went directly to her fridge, pulling out 2 more beers. "This is to pay you
back for the one you bought me at the bar" she said, pushing him down onto the
love seat and straddling him, feeling his manhood strain toward her from inside
"We didn't talk much in the bar" she said. "In fact, we didn't really talk at
all, did we. I don't even know your name". He just smiled at her in reply.
"What's your name?" she repeated, slowly, growing a little tired of his
strong, silent type act.
"Calvin" He responded, hoping that he'd read her lips correctly. She had been
slurring her speech a bit from the beer. Maybe he should tell her about his
hearing impediment. But why? Things were going so well, really.
"Well, Calvin, You just sit back and relax. I don't mean to be so sheltered,
but the truth is, I've never been with a black man before. I gotta see if what
it is I'm in for before we go much farther." He hadn't understood most of
that, but figured it must be alright, since she had slid down to her knees on
the floor between his legs and was now unzipping his fly with her teeth as her
fingers unbuttoned his shirt and helped him to shrug it off his broad
When his shirt was gone, her hands hooked into the waistband of his pants, just
as her teeth conquered the button of his jeans. Boxers still came between his
now throbbing organ and the ecstasy of her hot mouth, and she now nibbled at
that waist-band while her hands worked to remove her own clothes. Finally
naked herself, she used her tiny hands and mouth to at last reveal the first
black cock she had ever laid eyes on.
And a magnificent sight is was! The rumors were true, she realized. Black men
DO have huge dicks! She gasped, suddenly shaken a bit by his size. A brief
sadness suddenly overcame her, as she realized that she would not be able to
take it all. She remembered how gentle he had been when they danced close, and
was relieved at that memory. For she realized how vulnerable she would be
right now if the man before her was anything other than a gentleman.
Being a woman who'd given more than a few blowjobs in her day, she also knew
the natural tendencies that even the most mild-mannered guys had while
receiving oral sex. She hated it when even short-dicked men would try to push
her head onto their cocks, but being forced to swallow this one whole would
kill her. So just as a precaution, she found his wrists and squeezed them as
tightly as she could, pressing his hands to the cushions beside him. He could
overpower her of course. Her hands didn't even reach half-way around his thick
wrists. But her message to him was in unwritten but unmistakable language: NO
And so she began to lick. First at his inner thighs, then up fearlessly
through his pubic hair, tilting her head so that when she exhaled, her hot
breath would wash over his enormous erection, making it throb appreciatively.
Slowly turning her head from side to side, she let the soft strands of her hair
gently slide over his cock, and he moaned in pleasure. "Let's see a black girl
do THAT", she though, proud of her silky soft hair. One time, she let her
tongue run slowly from the base of his shaft to just under the head. A long
journey indeed. He opened and closed his fists, gasping in ecstasy. But still
made no move to force her. It was as if he believed her hands held his wrists
as solidly as the chains his ancestors had known. The muscles in his arms and
shoulders bulged noticeably, but his wrists remained pinned by her tiny hands,
making her feel powerful and completely in control of this formidable man.
Opening her mouth wide, she sucked in one of his huge nuts. This had always
been one of her blow-job specialties, but until now she had always been able to
take a man's entire sack into her oral cavity, much to their pleasant surprise.
But just one of his balls filled 90% of her mouth, leaving just enough room to
gently roll it around, washing it with her tongue. Releasing it after a minute
or so, she inhaled its twin, and gave it the same loving attention.
All this time, she'd been mentally preparing herself for what she knew would be
a difficult task. Already her mouth was getting tired, yet she knew what was
expected of her next. She hoped she would be able to open wide enough to
engulf his massive cockhead, and she straightened herself up, pressing her warm
tits against his saliva moistened scrotum. She looked down at the throbbing,
drooling cockhead, willing her mouth to open just a bit wider than it's
circumference. She released his left wrist, and placed her tiny fist around
his cockshaft, but then felt his left hand move to the back of her head. "NO"
she said firmly, pushing his arm back down to the couch, and pointing at it as
if to say "STAY". And stay it did as she once again gripped his shaft; once
again opened her mouth wide, and finally, at last, his head entered her head.
His dick drooled. Her mouth drooled. She released his other hand, again
pointing sternly at it: STAY! There was no need for a man to force her face
onto his dick. Once inside, her instinct was the same as his would be: To
take as much into her mouth as possible. Both hands now moved up and down his
shaft, as did her soft, wet lips. Her breasts softly sparred with his
testicles; her hair fell onto his flat stomach and muscular thighs. And his
hands refrained from following their instinctive path to the back of her head.
She appreciated his restraint. As she concentrated on giving him her best blow
job ever, she decided how she silently contemplated what their next position
would be. She would not, could not take him in the traditional missionary
position. She knew how deep her pussy was, and knew how long his cock was, and
the numbers just didn't add up. Besides, she almost fainted at the though of
her being pinned under the weight of a man so much heavier than herself. No,
she had decided even back at the bar that normal, traditional man on woman
lovemaking would not work in their case. But there were other good options.
Doggie style was good. She could always pull forward a little if he tried to go
too deep, as long as he could be trusted not to force her down flat to the
mattress. Or, if she wanted even more control, she could simply insist on
being on top, riding him. That's what she'd prefer anyway, she could always
make herself cum while riding a man. But she knew most men, given the choice,
would rather do it doggie style. And this was probably doubly true of black
men, with their heightened appreciation for the female behind.
And so she had decided. As long as he didn't get pushy or forceful when he
exploded in her mouth, he could take her doggie style afterward. But if she so
much as felt his hands resting on her head, she'd be mounting him tonight.
And then the monstrous member in her mouth began to swell.
"AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!" he groaned, and she actually felt his nuts began to
vibrate between her soft, sensitive titties. The liquid load flowed upward,
defying gravity. Past her left hand, then her right, as they pumped up and
down, the tiny fingers not quite able to encircle the girth of the vein-ribbed
penis. As the river of cum surged upward, her tonsils rushed down to meet it.
Using all her mental and physical strength, she refused to acknowledge her
gag-reflex, swallowing the cockhead and then shaft as her hands fell away and
worked around to his perfectly sculptured behind, pulling his pubic hair right
up to her lips.
"Fuck that!" she said, silently, to the impulse which told her that she must
gag; that told her such a feat was humanly impossible. "I don't care" was the
message her brain sent to her lungs, when they told her she must breathe now.
She couldn't have pulled back if she wanted to now, his cockhead had nearly
doubled in size, trapping itself deep in her neck as it pumped what surely felt
like a gallon of cum directly into her stomach. The juices drooling from her
spread pussy onto the hardwood floor created the bizarre illusion that he was
coming right through her!
In place of the horror that most women would have felt at this point, her brain
reeled with euphoria. Just as surely as if she had been given a morphine
injection to the base of her skull, waves of ecstasy rolled gently across all
her senses, and she felt at the very brink of her own orgasm. Oh, she'd always
loved it when a man came in her mouth, but it had never felt this good before.
He'd always loved cumming in a chick's mouth, but it had never felt this good
before. For one thing, no one had ever swallowed his whole cock before. This
girl was a phreak! When he'd begun to come, he instincively raised his hands
to guide her mouth a little deeper onto his shaft; to make sure she swallowed
his load. But then, DAMN! She up and swallowed his whole freakin' cock! And
his whole load. And his very soul, it felt like; and so his hands had dropped
back down to his sides.
The part of her brain that was telling her that swallowing a little AIR might
be a good thing to do, was starting to make its opinion heard. She pulled back
reluctantly, totally in love and lust with her new boyfriend. The head popped
out of her throat, then out of her mouth completely, and for the first time,
she realized just how sore her jaw was. She inhaled deeply several times, and
coughed, reaching for a tissue. She coughed again, harder this time into the
tissue. Some semen and a little blood came out her nose, and she quickly
folded up the tissue hoping that he hadn't seen it.
His dick had shrunk to half its former size, but still it was bigger than any
of her former boyfriends'. In order to speed his recovery time, she would
normally have mouthed him again, but with her jaw so sore, her nose bleeding
slightly, and her stomach churning with too much fluid, she simply could not.
And so she sandwiched his member warmly in her bosom and began stroking his
chest; his arms; his face, his lips; his legs; actually, his whole body. Her
hands roamed over him like, well, like a guy's hands usually did on her.
"I need you inside of me, Calvin." She whispered, not realizing that he could
not hear. She crawled up his body, her boobs skidding upward on, then away
from his cock. The nipples rode slowly over each hill and valley of each rib.
Dwarfed by his massive pectorals, they soon lifted off of his body and floated
toward his face. She pressed them together using only her upper arms to guide
them to his mouth. Simultaneously, the sparse hair of her tiny womanhood
tickled across his recently swallowed member.
"Once you have white, you'll never go back!" His friends at the school for the
deaf had always told him. Maybe it was true. His dick had never been so
drained, and he was tired, but still a little curious about what this petite
pale siren had in store for him next. As she mashed her firm breasts into his
face, he felt his manhood re-awaken and strain to reach the heated white
snatch, which hovered just above it.
Sensing that it had reached full hardness, she lowered herself a bit, smearing
its head with the fluid of her bubbling vagina. GOD she loved her new
boyfriend! Swooning, she was just about to impale herself on him; knowing that
she would cum; would TOTALLY cum all over the place, spazzing right out on top
of the poor guy, within moments after dropping her steaming snatch onto his
perfect fucking cock! But she stopped herself. She didn't want him to see the
faces she would make; hear the noises she would make. It was too soon to be
this intimate. And what if her nose started to bleed again! Besides, she was
sure he would rather do it doggie style, and hadn't she promised herself she'd
let him, if he'd been good? And Christ had he been good. So she un-straddled
him, in spite of his groan of despair.
Taking him again by the wrist, she led him to the bedroom. And he followed,
without question. It made her feel so powerful! Her she was, this Aly
McBeal-sized girl leading this Barry Sanders kinda hunk into her bedroom, both
of them naked as cave-persons.
The bedroom was dark, except for a little moonlight shining in through the
"I want you to dew me FROM behind" she whispered, looking deeply into his
"I want you to dew me UP THE behind" he heard, reading her bruised, intoxicated
lips in the moonlight.
And then she climbed seductively onto the soft mattress. Face down. Butt up.
And he followed. Much as he wanted to please his first white girl, he found
her customs a bit strange. Up the behind? Seemed silly, when her pussy looked
so nice and juicy and inviting, thrust upward at him like that. Still, maybe
that's what white chicks around here use for birth control. So he would do
what she had asked. But first, even if it was against her wishes, he had to
dip into that sweet white poontang just for a minute or two.
Of course, that IS what she wanted, and she sighed as she felt the big,
throbbing tip slowly penetrate the split of her uplifted cunny. Then she
gasped as two inches thrust inward, stretching her as no cock ever had. It
hurt, but rather than pull away, she thrust back, enveloping two more inches.
He gasped and pushed in; she gasped, and pushed back. Soon, they had
accomplished the impossible: a linebackers penis was fully inserted into a the
vagina of a waif. Both were experiencing some discomfort, but neither was
complaining much about it.
She was just too damn tight! Her man-eater was skinning his pecker alive. And
he was just too damn big! The fist sized head punched against her cervix like,
well, like a fist. But the pleasure, the almost pure pleasure was
She could cum, if only he didn't quite thrust in all the way. So, with tears
of both pain and ecstasy in her eyes, she began to retreat slightly. She had
been fucking back to meet his strokes with all her might, but now she pulled a
little away just before the moment of full penetration. But he simply shoved
an inch farther forward to take up the slack. And so she moved forward more.
And so did he. Then, she was laying flat, and he too was flat on top of her,
his 300 lbs squishing her 90 pound frame into the soft mattress. No longer
could she fuck-back, or retreat. But she could clench, and she did. By doing
so, she managed to protect her last inch of cunt-tunnel, and the rampaging
pecker no longer slammed against her inner stop-sign.
In spite of being crushed and utterly flattened, the pleasure now began to
build; and the pain had disappeared. She tried to fuck back, but was too
crushed to make any real movement. Ever the gentleman, he lifted some of his
weight onto his arms, but not much since they sunk deeply into the soft
mattress. "Fuck that!" she thought, grabbing his wrists and pulling them under
her torso. His full weight sunk onto her as her hands pushed his toward her
breasts. He crossed her heart, holding her tightly, his right hand to her left
boob; his left hand to her right.
Crushed. Her boobs where crushed beneath his hands. Her buttocks crushed
beneath his loins. Her head crushed to the mattress by his sweaty chest. Her
whole body was being crushed beneath this huge, hulking gentle man. And her
pussy was being crushed; devastated; pulverized by the strokes of his
relentless huge cock-rod! Yet she'd never felt so loved; so hugged; so held;
so protected. And yes, she was starting to come. COME!
Her tiny love-tunnel began convulsing around its pumping invader. NO! he
remembered. "I can't come inside her! She wanted it up the behind!" Wanting
to please her, he reluctantly pulled back the full 10 inches required to
maneuver upward. Skillfully, without moving his hands from her knockers, he
used his hips to aim his weapon between her buttocks. Then, still with all the
weight of his body pressing upon her, his penis once again sought tight inner
BAM! Like a gunshot, the juice-covered erection popped in and instantly
traveled 9/10ths of the way into her virginal back-passage. "What?" she asked,
in the one-second it took for the pain signals to travel up her spine to her
brain, which then exploded. "Guuwwyyyyeeeeaaaaawwwwweeeeuuuoooiiiiii!" She
exclaimed, bucking with all her might; and with all the effectiveness of a
mosquito pushing outward against a hand which slapped it.
"DAMN!" he thought, trusting in the last inch. This white chick DID know a few
cool tricks. No black woman had ever let him dew her in this way. Wasting no
time thrusting in and out between her tiny buttock cheeks, he fell into an ever
quickening rhythm as she fell into a silent coma-like state.
He loved the way his balls beat against her sopping wet snatch below. And he
loved the way she'd gone completely limp to accept his full thrusts. He loved
how tightly her bowels clung to his long, thick cockmeat. And he loved the way
her breast-flesh oozed between his fingers as he tightly gripped her boobs, the
nipples boring into the centers of his big palms.
She regained consciousness as he upped the tempo of his ravishment. "Stop" she
pleaded, in a faint whisper, and when he didn't, she screamed the word at the
top of her lungs. "STOP!!!!" But the mattress muffled her voice. So she
turned her head to the side. Now he could read her lips: "DON'T! STOP!"
Don't stop? Of course he wouldn't stop! He was about to cum! Faster still he
charged into and out of her most secret of holes. He closed his eyes as this
amazing woman was once again about to receive his seed. "STOP! HELP! r*pe,
r*pe! HELP!!!!!!! CALL 911! r*pe! AaaaaarrrrrGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!"
His eyes closed in ecstasy, he didn't "hear" her last plea. But the neighbor
in the next apartment did. And she DID dial 911, giving the dispatcher Tara's
After pumping her bowels completely full of man-juice; draining his cock to
record low levels, he collapsed onto her tiny body. In a minute, he was
snoring, and there was no hope of her crawling to freedom as his devastating
weapon slowly began to shrink; and her hugely stretched asshole started to leak
rivets of semen from around his deflating cock.
"POLICE, OPEN UP!" Came the call from outside her apartment door. By now,
Tara had also collapsed into an unconscious state beneath her drained
rapist/boyfriend. Since the door was locked, the officers summoned the
landlord, who let them in.
Upon entering the bedroom, the scene was pretty clear to the redneck cops, who
promptly drew their service revolvers. "Get up off that white woman, nigger!"
And when he did, his now soft penis popped with an audible sound from the
confines of her forever-stretched rectum. And a gob of incriminating white
semen gurgled out behind it.
"Did this man just violate you Miss?" Asked one of the officers.
"Well, yes." Replied Tara, still in shock.
Calvin was transported, by squad car, to the county jail. Tara, by ambulance,
to the local hospital. The next day, the prosecutor came to visit her. The
same prosecutor who had unsuccessfully handled her frat-r*pe. "Lotsa folks
seen you teasing that negro at the bar last night. Some seen you leave with
him, walkin' hand in hand! I'm up for re-election in a couple of months, got
no time for women who just want attention!"
"He r*ped me up the ass!" Tara protested.
"Is that the only place he r*ped you? Doctor says you got traces of semen in
your mouth, and vaginal abrasions as well! So I ask you, did that dumb negro
r*pe you anywhere besides your ass?"
"Well yes. I mean, no. I mean, he did put his, ah penis thingy, in each of
my, ah, entrances, but it was only r*pe, well, you know, back there.".
"So you mean you not only danced with him, and left with him, but you teased
him further by using your mouth? And then let him violate your womanhood?
SHEEET! That's not r*pe, that's just a plain old ordinary fuck! Well, maybe a
kinky fuck, but certainly not r*pe if you let him fuck you that way!"
"NO! I told him he could do me from behind, but not IN my behind!"
"What do you mean, you told him? What good does it do to tell a deaf nigger
"What did you just call him" asked Tara.
"I'm sorry, all this politically correct stuff takes some gittin' used to. I
meant hearing-impared African-American."
"Yeah, we used to call it 'deaf'." Just like we used to call
'African-American' folks 'colored'. Or niggers."
"You mean he's deaf?"
"Are YOU deaf? I just said the nigger was deaf. Read my lips, D-E.F.deaf!"
"OH MY! Well, maybe there was some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe he thought
I consented, even though I didn't."
"Fuck dat!" Screamed the prosecutor. "We've arrested him now. No way we're
gonna be saddled with a false arrest charge! That's one deaf nigger gonna do
some serious time in prison! And you're gonna be our star witness. Here's the
deal: The last r*pe case we tried for you was a tough one. You went to a frat
party, teased all the guys, let them have sex with you, and then when you
sobered up, you cried r*pe! No wonder we didn't win that one. But this one, a
nigger even having consensual sex with a white chick around here is r*pe in the
minds of 99% of the jury pool. If I can't win this one, I don't DESERVE to git
re-elected! Now they might sympathize with his deafness and all, but here's
the bottom line: Did you want him in your bottom? Hee hee hee. Easy case.
"So ya see, missy, you're gonna be a good witness. You're gonna cry on the
stand, you're gonna point right to that big bad nigger rapist, and you're gonna
tell the truth: It hurt's to have a big black cock up your butt!. You can
even say that, those exact words, right to the jury! We can't lose this one,
no-sir-ree. We can even have you pass the lie detector test and leak it to the
papers. You'll get your justice this time, Tara!"
"But, but, what if it wasn't really r*pe? What if he's really just a nice,
gentle guy, and this was just a big misunderstanding? What if I don't really
want him to go to prison?"
"Now you listen up, listen here, listen up to me now! How many chances to you
think you get to 'cry-r*pe'? Those frat boys are all still laughing at you;
and they're laughing at ME! If THIS cold-blooded rapist walks away scott-free,
why you can just FORGET about getting any justice for any future assaults. No
prosecutor in the state will ever again touch a r*pe file with your name on it.
In fact, I'll announce publicly to the newspapers that you are the girl who
cries r*pe all the time, and that we will no longer speak to you regarding any
future r*pe accusations. Do you hear me? Do you understand me? If we don't
get a conviction on THIS blatant case of r*pe, your 'little miss r*pe victim'
days are OVER! Every nigger AND white guy in the state can pump his scum into
every hole in that petite little body of yours for all I care, and I'll never
file a case against any of them. What I'm saying is that if you let this one
go, you might as well just paint "r*pe me" on your forehead, cuz the judicial
system will no longer be there to protect you. Got it, toots?"
And so, the trial went forward. She testified, but only half-heartedly
pointing to her assailant from the witness stand; looking away as he mouthed
the word "Why?" over and over again.
YOU are in the jury. In fact, you're the foreperson. What's the verdict?
Does the accused go free? If so, I'll write an epilogue in which the "woman
who cried wolf" gets her just deserts while the criminal justice system turns a
blind eye. Or does he get convicted? If so, I'll write an epilogue detailing
the experiences of a gentle, baby-faced, deaf black man on his first
End of Story