Maureen's Choice Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  The Sweet Wife, Book II:

  Maureen’s Choice

  by

  Charles Arnold

  ISBN 13: 9781935897095

  ISBN 10: 1-935897-09-8

  A Pink Flamingo Ebook Publication

  Copyright © 2006 Charles Arnold

  All rights reserved

  Preface

  This is a companion to Sweet Wife Book I. However, it isn’t necessary to have read the first book in order to enjoy this one. In Sweet Wife Book I, a young beautiful married woman, Maureen O’Donnel, after an evening of drinking with her husband, Brian, agrees to his pleading that she have sex with a black man while he watches. She tries to break her promise, but it’s too late. He’s already made arrangements with a huge, arrogant black named Travis. Her husband has bought expensive seductive clothes for her to wear and has arranged for his parents to watch their two small children.

  On the night of the meeting, she is ashamed and terrified. She had been a virgin bride and never even considered having sex outside of her marriage. She continued to argue against going through with Brian’s perverse plan, but he tells her Travis is waiting in the basement game room. She’d expected a young, handsome athletic partner. Travis is huge, heavyset, and in his fifties.

  He is also forceful and demanding. Gradually she finds it exciting to submit to him and discovers sexual depths she never knew she had. He leaves her with his phone number and instructs her to call him. She dismisses the experience as a one time thing. But against her better judgment, she does call. This begins a downward spiral into the world of black domination. She is powerless to resist Travis’s demands as he uses her and gives her to others.

  Chapter One

  The morning after she’d serviced seven of Travis’s friends, before putting her in a cab, Travis handed Maureen a small box. She was surprised to see the cab was not Robert. Travis told her to go home and sleep all day. He would phone her at six. She wasn’t to open the box until he phoned.

  Maureen was so exhausted she simply nodded. The men had done everything she’d imagined they might and more. Each of her orifices had been taken over and over. She had swallowed their cum and taken it in her pussy and in her anus. She had danced naked for them, crawled to them on all fours, kneeled for what seemed like hours before them as one after another had fucked her mouth. She had tongue kissed them. She had bent down to press her parted lips to their feet. They had, as she knew they would, verbally humiliated and physically abused her.

  Each of the seven men had taken her twice and two of them had taken her three times. She’d lost count of the numbers of orgasms she’d had. It seemed they were constant, one blending into the other. The intensity was greater than she had ever known. Over and over each orgasm rose toward another explosive climax that shook her body. She could not have dreamed of the undiminished lust she felt. It had begun in the dining room of the restaurant and grew in intensity when Travis led her, blindfolded, into the room where the seven black men were waiting for her.

  Now, as she stepped into the cab, the flow of secretions moistened her pussy again. Her anal opening was painful. Even though she’d widened it for Travis, his huge thick cock had torn her. But she’d been surprised at how much pleasure had accompanied the pain. The sensation of a hard cock pushing far into that most private of places brought her to a state of arousal that was different from any she’d ever known. Toward the end of the long night she was begging them to take her there. She remembered herself saying, “Please, please fuck my ass. I want to feel your black cocks in my white ass!” My God, she thought, how could I have said that? How could I have done those things?

  Neither Brian nor the children were at home. He’d gone to work and they were in school. Brian had left a note saying his sister would pick up Sara and Billy from school, and he would bring them home at six thirty. Maureen undressed, showered, and fell into bed. The ringing of the phone awoke her at six. Still half asleep, she had to force herself to reach across the bed to answer it.

  “You did good last night, babe,” Travis said.

  His compliment and the sound of his voice brought her fully awake. She felt a rush of warmth spread across her skin. “Thank you, honey. Thank you for last night. It was beyond anything I have felt before.”

  “You sore?”

  “I was but everything seems okay now.”

  “Assignment?”

  “You forgettin, baby, you belong to me. You is Travis’s white whore.”

  “But….but I thought after last night….”

  “Ain’t nobody payin you to think. You got to get out of the fuckin habit of thinkin.”

  Maureen’s stomach sank and her mouth went dry. “You mean tonight I must…”

  He interrupted, “Yeah, tonight. Now, open the box I give you.” It was on the dresser. Maureen lifted the lid. Inside were a silver necklace and a matching ankle bracelet. On the necklace was a shiny black pendant in the form of four letters. The same letters circled half of the ankle bracelet. “You got it?” Travis asked.

  “Yes, honey.”

  “What do the letters say?”

  “WWFB.”

  “What you think they mean?”

  “Honestly, Travis, I don’t know.”

  “Well, just about every black man in the country knows and most black women, too. Lot’s of whites know.”

  Maureen tried to guess but gave up. “I’m sorry, Travis, but…”

  “I’ll tell you. They mean WHITE WOMAN FOR BLACKS. When you wear that necklace and ankle bracelet the black man knows you is his. He knows he can touch you, kiss you, fuck you, tell you to get on your knees and suck him off. He knows you’re hot for black cock, and even if you ain’t in the mood you’ll get on your knees and do him anyway.”

  Travis’ words shamed and frightened her. The necklace and bracelet would be a clear message to all the black men who might see her in public. She was theirs. She would see it in their eyes and in their sly grins. They would speak to her in ways they never would have before. In public places they would feel free to touch her, fondle her, kiss her knowing she wouldn’t resist, knowing she would do what they told her to do. “Oh, Travis, I don’t…I really don’t….” She paused and took a deep breath, “Travis, please honey. I’m your woman and I’ll do what you say, but to…to…wear the necklace, to let everyone who sees me know, to…to… make it so obvious…to advertise. Travis it’s cheap and…and I’ll be afraid.”

  “You think I give a shit about that?” His voice was even and hard. “You put them things on and you don’t take them off unless I say so. And when anyone asks what them letters mean, I want you to tell them, no matter who: black men, white men, women, don’t matter who. You fuckin got that?”

  It was almost a minute before she could answer, “Yes, Travis.”

  “They was the Captain’s idea, a present for you cause you brought him your sister.”

  Maureen had forgotten about Eileen. “Is she all right, Travis? Where is she?”

  “She’s fine. The Captain’s taken a liking to her. You can bet she ain’t a virgin no more. I expect she ain’t complainin. Nothin you can do about it anyway.”

  Maureen nodded sadly, “That’s true. There’s nothing I can do now.”

  Travis continued, “Tonight someone’s comin to pick you up at eight o’clock.”

  Maureen couldn’t believe what he’d just
said. “Oh, no! Here at my house? Travis, I can’t. That’s impossible. I’ll meet him somewhere else. I mean I can’t have a strange black man coming to my house…”

  He cut her off, “Your husband and kids be there?”

  “At eight o’clock? Yes, of course. They should be home soon. That’s why I don’t want….”

  Angrily he interrupted, “Well, listen up and don’t you to give me no shit. I want you to introduce the guy to your husband. Make sure he sees him, you know. And make sure he knows why he’s there.” Maureen started to object again. Travis yelled, “Do what the fuck you’re told! These is orders direct from Dex.” He waited a moment, then went on, “You let your husband see that you got the hots for the black dude. You need to say things and do things so he gets the message.”

  “Do things?” she questioned, her voice shaking.

  “Yeah, are you fuckin dumb or what? Call him honey, put your arm around him, let him kiss you if he wants to.”

  “Oh, please Travis, my God!”

  “What the fuck have I been sayin? You do what you’re told. A report will come back to the Captain and me.” He waited for her to respond. When she said nothing, he went on, “You wear the same stuff you had on last night. There’s no cum on your dress, right? They just cum inside you and on your tits and face. Right?”

  “Yes, Travis. The dress is clean.”

  “Tonight you’re goin dancin, but you’re not havin more than one drink. We want you to be sober when you get back. Your date’s bringin you home. Your husband’s goin be sleeping on the couch tonight because you and your new black lover gonna be usin the bed. Your date knows that you belong to him for the whole night. Fuckin, suckin, whatever he wants. You make him breakfast and do him again in the morning. Got that?”

  “But Travis, honey, can’t we just go somewhere, a motel maybe? I mean with the kids here at home, I don’t…”

  He cut her off, “You’ll figure it out. Just do what I say.”

  Maureen felt the tears run down her cheeks. “Yes, Travis,” she said.

  “Eight o’clock. Be ready and be lookin hot. Don’t forget the necklace and the bracelet.”

  “I won’t forget, Travis.” It occurred to her that two weeks ago she would have called a cop if Travis had looked at her wrong. Two weeks ago she wouldn’t have let him even speak to her. Two weeks ago she was a wife and a good mother. She lived in a nice neighborhood. The only black men she saw were on the truck that picked up the garbage.

  Travis chuckled, “You gonna get fucked again tonight. Fucked good. That’s what you want. That’s what you’re thinkin about right now, ain’t it? You want the black man’s cock? Tell me.”

  She knew what he wanted to hear, “Yes, that’s what I was thinking, Travis.”

  “You gonna do what I said. Show your wimp husband that you got a black lover and you’re treatin him real good. That’s what we want, you understand?”

  “Yes, Travis, I understand. I’ll try.”

  She knew he was angry. He didn’t shout but his voice had an edge to it. “You better do more than fuckin try,” he said. “You either say that you’re gonna do what I’m tellin you to do or don’t say nothin. I’m givin you five minutes to think about it. You don’t want no black man tonight, fine. You don’t want to wear them things, throw them away. You don’t want to be my woman, that’s fuckin okay. I don’t need you Mrs. O’Donnel and I ain’t so sure I even want you.” He paused but before she could speak, he began again. “Five minutes,” he said, “you call me back in five minutes sayin you’re gonna actually do exactly what I tell you. Not fuckin try, but do it! If you don’t call, that ends it. You is either a white woman for blacks or a wife and mother. Can’t be fuckin both. Five minutes,” he repeated, then hung up.

  My God, she thought, it’s a miracle. He’s given me a way out. She dropped the necklace and bracelet into the wastebasket beneath her makeup table. She was free! Free of Travis, and the Captain, and Silvia, and Robert! Free of the hated name “white woman for blacks”! Free to be a normal wife and mother. Free to make a home for her family. Free to hug Sara and Billy and tuck them into bed at night and tell them a story. She sat on the bed staring at the clock. She watched four minutes go by. It was as if some force outside herself caused her to reach for the phone. She punched in Travis’s number.

  “Yeah?” he said.

  “I will. I’ll do what you want.”

  “Now how did I know that’s what you was gonna say?” He chuckled. “Make sure your sissy husband gets the message.”

  She swallowed hard and felt the tears well up in her eyes, “I’ll make sure he gets the message,” she said. She hesitated, then tentatively spoke his name, “Travis…”

  “Yeah, I’m listin.”

  She took several deep breaths, “Travis,” she was close to tears, “you didn’t mean what you said about not wanting me? You do want me, Travis honey, please tell me that you do.”

  She could sense he was grinning, “You ain’t talkin about that love shit is you?”

  She bit her lip, “Well, maybe not yet, but I thought in time…”

  “Forget that. Ain’t never gonna happen. Do I want you? Yeah, I want you to come to me looking good. I want you crawlin to me hopin I’ll let you suck my dick. I want you with your face on the floor and your bare ass in the air and spreadin your ass cheeks and asking me and the brothers to fuck your white ass. I want you beggin me to fuck your cunt, beggin out loud where folks can hear you. I want you on your knees worshipin my black cock, kissin it, lickin it, takin it in your mouth, suckin me, swallowin my cum. That’s how I want you. If that ain’t good enough, say so.”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks. “That’s all Travis, that’s all you want me for?” she whispered.

  “Yeah, Mrs. O’Donnel, that’s all.”

  She couldn’t speak. When he didn’t hang up, she said, “Yes, Travis, it’s good enough.” She heard the click as he hung up the phone.

  An hour later when she came out of the shower, she heard Brian and the children downstairs. The television was on. Brian was making dinner in the kitchen. She could smell hamburgers frying and hear the children laughing. For a moment everything seemed normal. For a moment it seemed as if she could pull on a pair of sweat socks and sweat pants and a baggy sweatshirt and run downstairs and roll on the floor with her happy children. Then, she’d help Brian in the kitchen. They’d sit down at the table and the kids would delight them with stories about what happened in school. She stood clutching the bathroom sink, her head bowed. In the bedroom she had laid the black dress out on the bed. The black stilettos were next to it. On the make up table was the necklace she’d retrieved from the wastebasket. It was too late to go back. She had a chance to get out but she didn’t. She was no longer a suburban wife and mother. She was a “white woman for blacks.”

  Holding back the tears, she threw on her robe and went into the bedroom. She sat at the small table carefully applying her makeup. Sara came to the door and looked startled, “What are you doing, Mommy? Dinner’s almost ready.”

  Maureen put down the eyeliner but avoided looking at her daughter. She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, honey, but I’ve been invited out for dinner.”

  “With Aunt Eileen?”

  “Well, maybe Aunt Eileen will be there. I hope so.” Maureen had almost convinced herself that Dexter Wells would be taking both she and Eileen dancing. Afterward he’d probably want a threesome, just him and the two sisters. He may have rented a suite at the hotel or he’d take them back to his place.

  Sara spotted the necklace. “Oh, how pretty!” She exclaimed bending down to read the black letters, “WWFB,” she read. Hearing her daughter say the letters, Maureen squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip. “What do the letters mean, Mommy?” Sara wanted to know.

  “Nothing, honey, they’re just letters.”

  Afraid she would start to cry, Maureen gently guided Sara toward the door. “You better go to dinner. Your Daddy and Billy have probably started.�
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  Sara bounded down the stairs.

  Maureen sat at the table and wept. When she had cried herself out, she cleansed her face and reapplied the eyeliner and mascara. She was careful to exaggerate the fullness of her lips that were still swollen from last night. She outlined them with a slightly darker lip pencil. Then she coated them with gloss. Travis wanted her lips to be full and bright red and wet. Looking in the mirror she was satisfied. Her black hair framed the flawless white skin of her face. The dark eye shadow and the bright red of her moist lips contrasted sharply with the paleness of her skin, as did the black letters at her throat. She picked up the ankle bracelet and studied the letters for a moment before bending to fasten it to her right ankle. Travis’s words came back to her, “The black brothers and sisters will know what you are.” Yes, she thought, if they look at my cleavage they will see the letters. If they look at my legs, they will see the letters. They will know that I’m a white woman for blacks. She said the words aloud, “I’m a white woman for blacks.” Immediately, although she fought against it, she felt a wave of heat and knew her pussy was wet. She spread her pussy lips and looked at her clit in the magnifying mirror. It was already a glistening bright red berry.

  The black dress fit tight, hugging her narrow waist and the roundness of her ass. The low neckline exposed the swell of her breasts. It was obvious she wore neither a bra nor panties. The letters on the necklace shone brightly when the light hit them. She slipped her tiny feet into the open stilettos. The red painted nails of her perfectly formed toes glinted up at her. The ankle bracelet felt strange. Its letters, too, glistened in the light. She was surprised how quickly she’d recovered from a night of non-stop sex. A “fuckin fine gangbang” Travis had called it.

  She tried not to think of the children and knew that was wrong. Perhaps thinking about what she was doing to them would make her so ashamed and guilty and fearful, she would find a way out of…of what? Offering herself unconditionally to Travis. She stood in front of the mirror. She had never looked this good, both beautiful and provocative, both innocent and hot. She reminded herself that she would be fucked again tonight. She let herself recall how she felt last night in the hotel room, blindfolded and knowing seven black men were looking at her and wanting her. They knew she’d come there to give herself to them. And she had, over and over. She forced the children out of her mind and thought only of what might happen tonight. She was sure Dexter Wells would be her partner.