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Catwoman, Batwoman, and a Henchwoman are all on the menu...
She put her hands on the desk and lifter herself so she was fully sitting on it. Her legs parted a bit. I knew that if I looked, I would see the outline of her pussy through her tight jeans. I also knew that it would be obvious if I did, so I just looked into her eyes. So dark and inviting.
"If there was any one thing that you could do here, what would that be?" she asked. Her voice deepened when she asked that.
"Well, as I said, I would like to sample some of what the city has to offer. Something that I wouldn't find back in Wisconsin," I explained. This was an innocent reply. My heart skipped a beat at her smooth reply.
"Do you have many black girls in Wisconsin?" she asked.
"Well no. I come from a small city and we really don't," I said.
The words weren't coming easy. I wasn't sure if she was being suggestive or just inquisitive. I didn't want to get into an embarrassing situation with the possible contract hanging in the balance.
I was feeling a bit uneasy so, I broke eye contact with her. My eyes landed on her breasts. I could see her nipples showing through her shirt slightly. When I realized what I was looking at, I blushed and looked up and she was looking me right in the eyes, smiling.
"I'll bet that you've never had a black woman before, have you?" she asked.
"N-no, I haven't," I said. I was blushing red now.
"You're no different that any other white man are you?" she said.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
Her eyes seemed more distant now. The bourbon must have been have a strong effect.
"Do you really want me to say it?" she asked.
"Yes, say it. Tell me how I'm no different than any other white man," I replied.
"You've always wondered what it would be like to fuck a black woman," she said matter of factly.
Somehow, I knew that she was going to say something like that. But I didn't think that she would use the word 'fuck'. I was stunned. But not too stunned to feel my cock getting hard at the thought.
I stood up in front of her and looked down into her eyes. "Yes, I have wondered," I said. Gathering up my courage I said, "So how is fucking a black woman different than fucking a white woman?"
"Us Black women know what we need, and how to get it," she said.
Her usual office persona was gone now, giving way to her natural soulful disposition. Her voice took on a natural rhythm as she spoke.
"We take what we need when we need it'" she said. Her voice was now seething.
She slid off the desk and stood in front of me looking deep into my eyes. Her hands reached around me and grabbed my ass. She pulled me hard against her and ground herself against me.
I felt a cool sweat on my forehead.
"You got what I need. Right now..." she said in a firm voice.
"Here? In this office?" I asked in disbelief. "That's not a good idea!" I added in a sober voice.
"Fuck that! Tha's why I wannit!" she said.
"Fraid your gonna lose your damn contract? Then you're gonna miss a fuck you won't wanna miss..." she said. Her voice had a sulty hiss to it.
"You could be fired if were caught!" I said in a voice with extreme reason.
"So?" she asked. "It's just a JOB!"
"What do you mean just a job?" I asked, buying time. I was freaked out. My reasoning was slipping away. My hard cock sure wasn't.
Tha's the difference between white and black...white's let shit run their lives...blacks just know how to live!" she explained.
"So wha's it gonna be?" she asked. "Ya gonna fuck me in Mirandas chair? I always wannit to do it in her chair..." she added.
She smelled of bourbon (she was on her second) and subtle perfume. I picked up my glass and downed it. Fuck it I thought. She was right. I didn't run my life. Everything in it did. I was horrified at the thought of losing the contract and ultimately my job, but somehow I wanted this black woman more.
My hands reached up and cupped her braless breasts.