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- This story is part of the Flash of Desire Tournament
- Theme: Lucky Charms
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One Night at the Kitty Trap—Flash of Desire R16/
For the night, I’d dressed sexy, close to slutty. The Kitty Trap was packed to the rafters. One poor, misinformed man entered the bar. How quickly the dykes descended on him. Stupid creep had the shit kicked out of him, and they tossed him out the door.Yeah, I was on that bastard like stink on a cock.
Watched him crawling toward his car, clutching his nut-sack with one hand, dragging himself along with his fingers of the other. Mm loved the view. Fuck-wade didn’t understand, No Men, means what it says.
Fifteen minutes later, a stunning white bitch walked in. All legs, ass, and tits, her face angelic, but she appeared shaken when she gazed at me and realized this was a lesbian joint or that a black woman was there.
“First time here?” I asked.
“Um, yeah, I should leave,” she said, turning to walk away.
“Wait, baby, I think you’re my Lucky Charm.” Grabbing her by her wrist, I yanked her back. Not hard, not easy, enough to get her attention. The woman, maybe 22 or a bit older, resisted. I pulled her to my muscled body, hugging her, kissing her, tongue fucking her mouth. After ten or fifteen seconds, she went limp and melted into my body.
Once I broke the kiss, she gazed up at me; she’s at least six inches shorter than me, and said, “I’m not like you people are.”
She didn’t say, you people, did she? What’d she mean? Blacks, carpet munchers, both?
“What the fuck do you mean by you people?”
“Gay women. Oh, no, I don’t mean black people,” she said, but the way she said it, the fear in her voice and eyes, told a different tale.
“Don’t care what you meant, about to teach you manners,” I said, while yanking her toward the back rooms. For a moment, she resisted, but when I nearly jerked her arm from the socket, she decided to keep pace with me. As I pulled her through the crowd, I rained insults down on her. “Stupid cracker,”...“dumb cunt,”...“Karen of Poshville,”...“Rebecca of Straightlaced Farms.” When we finally got the private rooms, I found one that said, VACANT. Opening the door, I tossed her inside, shut the door, locked, knowing that VACANT turned to OCCUPIED, and with the rooms being soundproofed, I’d teach this bitch a lesson.
As she hit the back wall of the room, she let out a yelp and slid to her knees.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she said. The tremor in her tone pleased me.
“Strip,” I said. With my legs spread, my heels planted firmly on the floor, I crossed my arms under my ample breasts and glowered at her. “Get with Missy, or I’ll rip every stitch off your fucking body.”
“Please, no.” Putting her hands together, she begged me for mercy.
“Hey, I just kicked the shit out of a dude that tried to crash the party. If you think I won’t do the same to you, you birdshit-skinned whore, you’re wrong. Now do what I said.”
Rising, she unsnapped the bustier and dropped it. Her massive breasts sagged, and a leered at her.
“Natural, good thing, I hate cunts that can’t be happy with what they have.”
Pulling the white satin camisole over her head, it floated to the floor, pooling over the push-up lingerie. She stood there covering her gigantic boobs. When I locked eyes with her, she dropped them to her waist, unbuckled her belt and the jeans, pulled the zipper down, and wriggled out of them. All that remained was a dental floss, purple thong.
“If you’re not a lesbo, why you wearing that color?”
“I—” she hummed and hawed, tried to claim she didn’t know. But out in the lounge, she didn’t get all distressed until she saw me.
“You’re a fucking bigot,” I said.
“No¬—I’m—um—” her mouth froze.
Unbuttoning and unzipping my skirt, I shimmied free, letting it land on the floor, and I stepped out. Re-spreading my legs, I pointed between them.
“Right here, Miss White Twat. Now! On your hands and knees, crawl to me.”
Falling to the floor, she crept to me, a pussycat. When she got there, I pushed her face to the floor with one hand and ripped the g-string off her with the other. The first tug, it didn’t give. The second, it made a soft noise. The third jerk, it ripped off, stinging the flesh and leaving red marks on her alabaster skin.
“Ouch, shit.” Her body bucked.
Grabbing a handful of hair, I wrenched her up into my crotch. Pressing her nostrils into my short curlies, I had her there. Twisting her hair, I pushed her down, bent my knees, and forced her nose to clit, her mouth into my labia. Easing down to the floor, I held her there.
“Don’t be stupid, Miss Ann, get busy.”
That’s when her white tears leaked over my coochie.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re black,” she said.
“Rape you face with my cunt, now. Get your pink tongue out and eat me, cause you sure as fuck understand the process. Or so help me, I fuck you up.” With that, I gave a more aggressive twist.
This whitey slut was at least bi; her tongue’s education hadn’t just happened. Lying back, releasing her head, I bucked into her face while she drilled for girl cum and my G-spot. Wrapping my legs around her head, I locked my ankles together and squeezed her melon tight. As tiny climaxes hit me, I spurred her back to keep going.
Soon, I had one massive orgasm. Flooding her pie hole with the sweet nectar of ebony delights. All the while, she frigged herself with one hand; I rubbed my leg with the other.
“God, you taste so delicious, Caramel,” she said. Shattering the illusion.
“Dorthey,” I said. “What have I told you about breaking character?”
“But I’m your lucky charm, right?”
I just do the pen name assignment for this contest so that