crossdressed

I hate Darnell because he’s this ridiculously huge fucking prison-yard-looking black guy. Total badass player. Owns a bar. Has money. An Escalade. Parties a lot. Loud and angry whenever he feels it’s necessary. He scares the shit out of me a lot of the time. Not sure how stable he is. I never know what he’s going to do next. Me on the other hand? I’m regarded as attractive even with my smallish frame and pale white skin. I’m devoted to my marriage like all good spouses. Trouble is, Darnell is sick of the games his traditional hos play. Seriously sick. So sick of it that he took up blackmail as a diversion. I can testify to that first hand. Even though I’m happily married, and with my beloved out of town, Darnell has forced me to be his mistress on the side. Clandestinely, so my spouse won’t find out. It’s outrageous. After two days, he wants to keep it going indefinitely. I’m his new eye candy. His girly bimbo. And he wants to show me off.



Why?



Because, even though I don’t go out to dress-up places, he somehow figured out I would look ultra stunning all dolled up. A real live Barbie girl. Much to my amazement, much to dismay, turns out he was right. I never ever got all dressed up before, but that was before Darnell.



And when I did, well…he…he just ravaged me. Period. Trapped me first and then ravaged me. He made me get all dressed up to the nines and tricked me into sitting in a booby-trapped chair. I was stuck seated, gorgeous and my mouth was helpless so him and his buddy fucked it. Black dicks. In my mouth. They made me swallow all their black guy cum like a blowjob slut. They filmed it! Darnell decided that I would make the perfect blowjob slut for him and him alone. Now he’s invested money in me. He bought me wardrobe. Like this frou-frou dress I’m wearing now. These stiletto heels. This garish red lingerie that flashes everywhere. You can even see it through the dress. That’s so slutty! All this make up. This hair. This jewelry. It’s just awful.



So, bottom line, I’m his suck whore now. A trophy girl blowjob slut for his…ugh…huge black cock. I just want to spit when I think of it. I am married! It’s all too insane. It’s a bad dream. A really bad dream.



Why can’t I just get out? Run away? Because of the filming! The lunatic films everything. And he keeps filming everything. He’s building some horrendous library of just me sucking his dick in one outfit after another! He’s threatened to create a…a…website even! To show my spouse, my family, my church, my nieces and nephews, my co-workers. The world! No!



But he said if I play ball for awhile, he won’t out me. He’ll keep it on the down-low. He likes my…um…talents very much. So much, apparently, that he’s willing to bend a little. My options are non-existent. I don’t know what I can do. I’m so screwed. Why?



Because my wife returns in just a few days.



“Your WIFE?” you say. Yeah. Did I not mention that? Oh yeah. I’m a dude. A husband. The guy. Never been gay a day in my life. But just look at me now. I make Ru Paul look like a linebacker. Look at me. I wear dresses and panties. Slips. Fuck me pumps. There’s lipstick on my lips. I’m sucking off black men. What. The. Fuck.



“What the fuck, BJ?” I snapped back to reality as Darnell bellowed loudly using “the nickname” all the time now. “BJ” may be a common handle for Bobby Jane or Billie Jean or Barbie Jo but he picked it becuase it also stands for “blow job.” He knows that. He wants everyone to know. To know what I am and what I do for him. I shuddered. He was clearly annoyed that I wasn’t keeping up with his stride out of the mall. I was relieved to be leaving, even carrying the six bags of wardrobe delights salesgirl Kim had selected for me. Kim was a pretty black girl Darnell had recently dumped but she was still smitten with him and putty in his hands apparently. Though she complied with Darnell’s instructions to hook me up with a wardrobe, she didn’t like me much. She made my clothes even girlier and prissier than what usually sparked Darnell’s unquenchable blowjob lust. Thanks a lot, bitch. Her gigantic brother Andre managed the store where she worked. Convenient. Not 20 minutes, she manipulated him into sneaking into my dressing room, fucking my mouth and cumming down my throat. Andre got out of there just before Darnell returned and whispered that there would be more dates with me. How in the world did I get here? It’s all been utter madness. My brain is stunned even considering what was happening. Returning to the present, I was resigned to simply be relieved to be getting out of that hell-mall.



I picked up my stride a little to stay up with Darnell, utilizing fast baby steps that caused my new red stiletto ankle-strap heels to click and clack and echo loudly on the mall terrazzo floor. The food court was still packed and I pulled my long blonde tresses behind one ear to glance over. Everyone was staring at me, of course, and why wouldn’t they? If I saw a gaudy, overdone whore-looking bimbo shimmy-shaking to catch up with her big, strong, black boyfriend, I’d be watching in awe too. Maybe they though it was Coco and Ice-T? I’m sure I looked kinda like the slutty train wreck from which onlookers cannot turn away. The masses probably wondered when mall security started allowing hookers and pimps access to the mall. My dress couldn’t have been any tighter or any brighter yellow. It fairly glowed. It featuring short puff sleeves like some fairy tale innocent, a sweetheart neckline, ruched seams and a ruffled thigh slit> I mean, Kim had deliberately dressed me as whorishly as possible. To further call attention to me, she had selected fire engine red for my complementary color and worked in a number of hearts to complete the bimbo look. Whatever Kim had in mind, she knew Darnell and what he liked. He went nuts when he saw me. Loved it. Bit his lip. Grabbed his dick through his trousers. Squeezed my ass. Kissed me in front of everyone with full-on tongue while Kim flashed some pictures with her iPhone. Ptui!



As if to provide fanfare for my slutty fashion statement, my bright red lacy slip fluttered from underneath the ruffled hem and peeked out over my fake bosoms even as the thigh slit exposed my red garter strap and red sheer nylons with little red hearts all over them. She’d made me wear red elbow length gloves with bows on them and a red choker with a dangling red heart. The huge BCBS heart-shaped earrings were back in a bright red as well and lots of big, jangly jewelry sporting more hearts. My ankle straps had dangling hearts, my super wide cinching belt had a big heart. My garter snaps were hearts. She placed a heart shaped beauty mark on my cheek. She’d used thick glossy red lipstick featuring a new pepper extract that dramatically plumped up my lips. I wondered what that hot tingling was until she told me that Darnell requires thick, dicksucking lips at all times and made sure I was armed with an ample supply of the stuff.



The dress was stretchy and tight but I was able to keep up with Darnell’s pace. He anchored his massive black tattooed arm around my neck as I noticed that it had gotten dark outside. He shoved the mall doors open as an old couple on the way in stepped back, eyeballing me in seeming disbelief. The little old lady stared at me from my fuck-me stilettos up to my long blonde wig. I could hear the “Harumph!” going off in her brain. Her old husband froze and his eyes and head turned and followed me as I passed by. The old woman was none too pleased. “Get in here!” she chided while grabbing his sweater vest and slapping his forearm. Darnell had no intention of leaving me on the curb to go and pull the Escalade up. He put his hand against my back and nudged me out into the parking lot without even offering to carry a single bag.



He made it even more clear that he liked the new outfit a lot. “Lookin’ fine there BJ! Smokin’ hot baby!” When we arrived at the shiny Escalade at last, he opened the back doors so I could lay the bags in there. I shimmied up to the door frame and began to load them in without incident as he urge me to hurry up.



“Come on, baby, come on, get that stuff in there. God look at that tight ass!” My corset and panty padding formed my booty into a perfect bubble that stretched the yellow ruffled fabric tight. Darnell was practically salivating as I struggled to finish loading the last of the bags with little grunts. I remembered that I had to make them all be feminine sounding. Darnell warned me to stay in femme-voice mode permanently whenever we were together. So I did. I didn’t know what else to do.



“I’m. Going. As Fast. As I can. Whew. There!” I backed up a baby step and turned around. “All done. Is that good now? I mean, what are you -?” Darnell must have liked what he saw because he wrapped one arm behind my back while his other arm cupped my ass cheek, pinning my arms to my side.



“Oh please no,” I thought to myself. He was looking at me with that look. I tried to turn my head as he pulled me helplessly against him.



Darnell shook his head, “Damn you look hot, girl!” and then intercepted my face, forcing me into a big passionate open-mouthed kiss with those huge lips of his. He apparently likes to make out, his larger, thicker, stronger tongue having its way with mine. He could do this for a few seconds or for a few days at this rate. When fifteen seconds had gone by, I squirmed and moaned a little but I knew it was hopeless. He knew it was hopeless too and he just went, “Mmmmmmm” into my mouth as he french-kissed me. His dick was getting hard and I know this because he was hunching it against my pinned gloved hand.



I closed my eyes to try and drive out the horror of making out with a black guy in a crowded parking lot dressed like a garish hoochie mama. A horn honked and some guys yelled, “Come on!” When I peeked out of the corner of my eye I could see a carload of five black guys waiting on the parking space they thought they were going to get.



Darnell ignored them and continued kissing me hard. “The carload had had enough and sped off but cried out as they left, “Whyn’t you just have her give you a blowjob, asshole!” With that taunt they laughed and whistled and cat-called out of sight.



Darnell, unphased, waited a moment and finally withdrew from the heavy-duty kiss and cast a glance at the fading car while I struggled to regain my breath. Darnell had pawed at my ass, grinded his erection against my stomach and french-kissed me for almost a full minute! “Fuck yeah,bitches” he muttered with swagger.



It was time to go, finally. I was hustled over to the door, which he actually opened, and told to climb in, so I did. “Put some more of that red lipstick on, Boo!” I figured I better just comply to head off any drama, and proceeded to fish out the lipstick Kimmy had given me from my prissy-looking tiny purse. The lipstick was, of course, typically trashy and shaped like a dick with a big fat head on it. I rotated the base and the penis head slid forward. I paused because Darnell had seated himself and was just staring with a smirk without starting the car.



“Well? Put that shit against your lips,” Darnell commanded. I sighed in exasperation and did just that while looking in a circular compact mirror with my mouth open in a large oval. Thick red layers coated my puffy lips. I could feel the lipstick’s peppery formula stinging my lips again as they plumped even further. In the corner of my eye I could see Darnell adjusting his dick as he started the car up. He had bought his Escalade with a bench front seat with three sets of seat belts. He made me scoot over next to him and buckle up. Then he placed his meaty arm around my shoulders and told me, “That’s my pretty girl.” I felt sick. That is not what a married white man ever expects to hear from a black man claiming to be his new boyfriend.



As we pulled out of the mall, rap music blaring again, I was struck by how absurd my situation had become. It was unbelievable! I should be taking my wife out to a movie or hitting the treadmill at the gym or mowing the lawn. Not dressed as a bimbo floozie on a date with a big black thug. But, no, there I was, seeming to make Darnell the proudest man on the road. My legs were crossed like a girl’s legs, in sheer red nylons with a red garter strap peeking up at Darnell from beneath the ruffled hem of the slit in my tight yellow dress.



After a minute Darnell spoke up, “Now that your lipstick is back in yo purse, I need you to store sumthin’ for me, baby!”



I sighed and picked up my teeny purse again and snapped it open. “Um, sure, hon. I hope it’s not too big.”



“I need you to store my black dick in your white mouth.”



“Wha -?”



“Yeah, I need you to take my dick out right now and just store it in your mouth for awhile while I’m drivin’ around. It’s the only way I can think with a clear head.”



He didn’t even realize his own pun but I was going to see if I could postpone the repulsive deed regardless. “Won’t that be too dangerous?”



He wasn’t having it and cut me off immediately. “Fuck that. Unzip it now! Do it!”



I looked down and began to unbuckle my seat belt but he stopped me. “Nah. Just lean down. Go, girl. Right now.”



I slowly placed my purse on the seat while my mind raced for any way out of this. I scooted up as much as I could before leaning over. I paused trying to think of anything I could say to stop what was about to happen. I felt his hand on the back of my neck, pushing with weightlifter strength, and down my pretty head went. I felt ashamed at my circumstances. There was no way out. Again. My red-gloved hands nervously found his zipper. I zipped it down as slowly as I could. I never was repulsed by a zipper before but THIS? A black man’s pants? I’m a white guy dressed like a girly ho and I’m unzipping a black man’s pants for a black guy.



“You’re gonna put that black dick in your mouth again now, BJ. That’s what I got you for, baby, you hear me? Let’s go, honey, wrap them sexy lips around my dick now.”



A black guy was telling me to suck on his dick. I screamed in my head, “No fucking way. No fucking way motherfucker!” but my face just stayed deadpan, moving through the motions like it was all a hazy dream. Darnell’s determined black cock had been laying in wait, straining just behind the zipper so it sprang forward like a coiled spring and jammed up against my wet lips with a “Shlop!” exactly where it needed to go, like it had a mind of its own. At least 8 inches of masculine black cock was demanding my attention. I was surprised when it bounced out and instinctively started to say “Oh” but the slightest parting of my lips caused it to slip right inside my mouth. Darnells’ hand was irresistable against my head. he pushed me right down on it with no hesitation. My eyes widened as his cockhead once again slipped into my mouth. My cry of surprise, rather than sounding like “Oh!” sounded instead like “Mmmmph!”



He coupled that response with the swiftness with which it had happened and voiced his mistaken conclusions. “Day-umm. Looks like somebody loves nigga-dick after all! Mm-mm that warm, wet mouth was just dyin’ to get some black dick in it, huh?”



My response of “Oh, fuck no!” came out a slobbery, “Ummff! Umblgmf!” I wondered why he was referring to himself with the “n” word but he seemed proud to be saying it. He was getting off on it.



As I used my right red-gloved arm to steady myself against the seat so that I wouldn’t be totally impaled by his still-growing black dick lodged in my mouth, he grabbed my right arm and pulled it behind my back. It hurt a little and I was puzzled by the sudden move until he spoke again.



“No hands, no hands, just suck, baby!”



My thoughts grew panicky. “Oh, no. Oh, no. It’s happening again. I’m a girl again. A cheap blowjob slut for…what did he just call it?…nigga dick!” I had a moment of nearly fretting uncontrollably and came real close to crying except for Darnell’s hand pushing down on my blonde wig snapping me back to my horrible reality. My head went down as Darnell began hunching his dick up and down between my lips, a pretty-girly fuck-pole for his determined black cock which was hardening and growing every second. It would simply not be denied.



“Put your left hand back here too baby!” Darnell grunted as he pulled my left arm back to cross the wrist of the right arm behind my back. I could feel the corset underneath my dress ruthlessly maintaining my figure into the shape of a severe hourglass. I could feel the slippery satiny lingerie encasing my skin while its gawdy lacy hems peeked out and proclaimed what a suck slut I was. I knew the make-up on my face had me looking like a perfect blowjob slut. The straps of the garters were taut making sure the girly nylons I was wearing would make my legs look like the legs of a trashy whore. My wig did its job and barely moved, anchored solidly in place like a blonde helmet as I sucked. I felt every dangly heart, the choker, the bracelets, the anklets, the earrings, all tickling various arteas of my skin, all jiggling and jangling a slutty symphony as I gave my date head while he drove. I was every black man’s dream date right about now and Darnell meant to enjoy every second of it that he could.



The Escalade came to a stop but being in Darnell’s lap, I couldn’t see anything. I assumed we were at a red light. The bass was thumping loud enough for me to feel through my body and the rap was angry and harsh and directed at white women.



Darnell said, “Hol’ on a sec,” and he reached for something but I was unable to tell what it was. I felt something cold against one wrist and then instantly a clacking metal sound. I tried to react but my arms were kind of sore and there was a big black dick stretching my mouth so I couldn’t pull away from any angle. A just-as-instantaneous second clacking metal sound and an attempt to move my arms made me realize my wrists had just been handcuffed.



I screamed and squirmed a panicky “WTF?” but Darnell’s dick translated it to “Gmblmmf! Ummfff! Shlurrrp!” My seat belt along with Darnell’s paw on the back of my head ensured I would not be getting up off his cock or breaking free.



“Ahh, I can see you just as excited as me, eh, BJ? I knew you’d dig that shit girl!”



I was mortified and scared but absolutely helpless. With both wrists handcuffed behind my back, restrained by my seatbelt, hopelessly clad and stuck in all the girly trappings of a bimbo suck slut and leaning over into Darnell’s lap, my mouth was like a condom stretched over the end of a baseball bat that was pumping up and down in my mouth.



He trash-talked right through the rap music. “You know how it go, BJ. This the way I like it! Ungh! You can’t do shit but suck my black dick while I fuck that pretty lil face! That’s my face. My mouth. I own your face now, baby! Thatt’s right! Ungh! Big nigga dick in that white girl mouth! Ungh! Whatcha gonna do baby? Nuthin’ because you love my big nigga-dick stretching that pretty mouth, don’t ya?”



“Mmmmffff!! Umbglmf! Mm! Mm! Mm! Shlurrp! Shluppashlurrp! Gmmfff! Mm! Mm! Mm!”



“The way you dress shows me you like to suck nigga-dick! Pretty little thing. All hearts and bows and feminine! Look at you now babydoll! Look at you now!”



My thoughts were in turmoil. I’m a dolled up dicksucker. A black dick is fucking my mouth!



“Shlrrrpashlurrp! Mmmfff! Mm! Mmm! Mm! Gulmmblff! Shlurrp! Ulp! Mm! Mm! Mm!”



“Yeah, BJ. Suck those cheeks in. Make noise baby! Slurping! Loud slurping! Slurp Loud! Come on! Make it juicy! Make it juicy baby!”



I was overwhelmed and handcuffed and in no position to resist a man who could break my neck if he wanted to. I did what he said. Just letting a little more air in around his dick and sucking in aggressively made the most raucous slurpy blowjob sounds I’d ever heard. But he wanted more still.

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