Marlee: Chapter 01 - Sex Stories

Marlee: Chapter 01

I think it is time for me to tell about my conquest of another white woman. I have had many married white females, single white females, and divorced white females. I must say I prefer the married white females. I call them all MILF’s. Let me introduce myself. My name is Charles Crowder. I go by C.C. I’m a black man, with a degree in business law. That’s right I’m a lawyer. I work for a bank. I live in lower east side of Manhattan. I could take the N-Line to work in Brooklyn, but I prefer to splurge and drive my Mercedes. I can afford it. However, I have expenses. I’ve got to pay for that. I enjoy finding commodities and hedge funds and reselling them for a profit. Married white females have a quick return on investment. It’s all a matter of how you market them. This MWF’s name was Marlee. She was a petite, blue-eyed blonde. We work for the same company. I am not going to reveal the name of the company or her or my real name for security reasons. I’m not her boss. I’m her boss’ boss. I had time to observe her and speculate on how I would monetize her. First, I saw her standing in the break room. Her legs were trim and slim. Her skirt was as short as the company would allow at that time. Her hemline was about four inches above her knees. She caught me giving her those elevator eyes. As my eyes got to her tits ─ which I estimate to be 34DD’s ─ she looked at me. I didn’t care. I smiled big. She smiled back. At that moment I knew was going to fuck her with my long, uncut black ...

... cock. I hacked the company human resources files and looked her up. I found out she was a 37-year-old mom. She had a husband and a daughter, who was 17. Two days later, I was walking down a hallway. She stuck her head out of a doorway and look up and down. Then she stepped out, walking just in front of me I started humming, ‘ Shake! Shake! Shake that bootie!’ She looked back and smiled big. “Hi! My name is Marlee,” she said. “Yes! I know your name. My name is C.C. Glad to finally meet you!” I said. I stood real close to her, almost pinning her against the wall. I could smell her fragrance, her body, and another fainter scent, too. Yes! It was wet pussy! I know that scent anywhere. We chatted for about 10 minutes. “Why don’t we finish this off tonight after work?” I asked. “Over drinks?” “Sure. I know a place.” “OK,” she said. It was that simple. At 5 p.m., I picked her up in the parking garage. I quickly drove her to my side of town to a club frequented by black men and hot white women, looking to be African-ized. We drank a few drinks. I offered her a joint. She took a deep drag. I watched her hold it in and then slowly release the smoke. Her eyes were deep blue, wide and wild. She giggled often. I took her hand and walked her to my car. Once inside she leaned over and unfastened my pants. My cock popped out. I drove to my apartment as she sucked my cock. I thought she would need a much more training as a cock sucker… and I was willing to train. Once in my loft apartment, we ...