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Introduction:

The story of how my addiction to white pussy began.
I have had much more white pussy than Tiger Woods. Hotter too. He digs the porn stars and well-used sluts. I like my white snatch with far fewer miles on it. My ultimate goal is to surpass Wilt Chamberlain’s record, God rest his soul and big fat black dick.

You may wonder why I don’t write in ghetto jargon. I am most interested in stimulating intelligent white women. If you’re a guy, you just might want to skip this story, and wait for my next one, which is entitled “Why I Let a White Boy Suck My Dick.”

* * *

My name is Jamal. An Arabic girl I know rather intimately told me my name means handsome or beautiful. She was holding my cock at the time with both hands as she rubbed it against her lips. But her meat is a little too dark for me. I like white meat. Real white, and real tight. But then, it is always tight with me. You see, I have been very blessed in the equipment department, to the point of arousing much jealousy on the part of my black brothers.

My first sexual experience with a white girl was definitely not my last. Since that exhilarating experience, I have been addicted to white pussy. It’s worse than booze, crack, or cigarettes. I just can’t stop myself. I see it in my dreams. I put baby powder on my cock when I jerk off so it reminds me of you know what instead of my black hand. Not that I jerk off much. I can usually find a little white hand to do that for me, and a lot more.

It all started rather innocently. Although only 15 and a freshman, I was on the varsity basketball team. I didn’t start, but I was the first reserve in the game. The starters were all seniors and white, and like they say, they couldn’t jump, so I played most of the game.

We made the state playoffs and took a bus to the quarterfinal game about a hundred miles away. The team we faced was a huge favorite. Our cheerleaders rode the same bus as the players and coaches. Two other fan buses followed us.

On the ride to the game, everybody was joking and pretty loose. Nobody thought we had a chance in hell of winning, but it was a big thrill just to have gotten as far as we did.

The talk got pretty dirty, and it just wasn’t the guys doing it. The cheerleaders started saying stuff like, “If we win this game, we’ll suck and fuck every player who scores any points.”

Well, we beat the Warriors, defending state champions and overwhelming choice to repeat, by a single point. I hit a three with less than a minute to go. My 25 points was more than twice any other player on our team scored. Our fans went wild at the end of the game and stormed the court.

On the way home we stopped at a fast-food restaurant for some burghers and fries. Everybody was in a terrific mood. We resumed the drive back to the school.

Dan, the captain of the team, stood up near the end of the bus and started talking loudly. The coaches sat at the front and couldn’t hear him. He pointed at the cheerleaders. “Let’s go, girls! A promise is a promise. I remember what you promised, don’t you guys?”

We all roared, “Yes!”

“Do it for the black and blue . . . balls!” Ryan, one of the other seniors and starters, added. Go Wildcats!”

Wildcats was our team nickname and black and blue our colors. Candy, a senior and captain of the cheerleaders, stood and faced Dan and shouted right in his face, “Fuck you!”

Candy had some real spunk, and I was just dying to give her some of mine, but she seemed to be out of my league. Totally hot babe. Flaming red hair and a fiery personality to match. Great bod, and she was white, so white. Never saw a tanning salon in her life, that one. That’s why I love redheads. White, so white.

Dan asked, “Candy, are you going to keep your word?” He pointed from cheerleader to cheerleader. “Are you all going to keep your word? We won the game. Do you want us to win the state championship?” All the cheerleaders nodded to the affirmative. “Well, show the players some love!”

Candy smirked, rather lewdly in fact. “I’m the captain of the cheerleaders. I’ll go first and show the way. I’ll give it up for the black and blue . . . balls.” And then she giggled. “Oh, what the fuck, girls. It’s not like we’re getting married or anything. Just a hump on the road. Besides, we need to motivate these dudes to win it all. Just imagine, state champs. And it will be us who cheered, among other things, them on to victory. Raise your hand if you got game!”

Every cheerleader hand waved in the air.

Dan smiled broadly. “Jamal gets first pick. He was the star of the game.”

I was practically speechless, but managed to mutter, “Candy. I want some Candy.”

At first she frowned, but then she smiled and said, “If anybody tells Fred, I’ll cut off your nuts.”

Fred was her long-time boyfriend, now a junior in college, at a campus a couple hundred miles away. He was a star wrestler in high school. Heavyweight. I saw his pictures on the sports wall at our school. He didn’t look like he was packing much in those tight whatever you call those wrestling pants.

Candy took me by the hand and we went to the seat at the very back of the bus. We began to kiss and fondle one another. I slipped my hand inside her jersey and popped open her bra. I can do that almost as well as I can dribble. Practice, I’m talking about practice. I pulled up the jersey so I could see my black hands squeeze her boobies so that they looked like a black cone with vanilla ice cream. I think it turned her on too.

“I’ve never been with a black dude before,” she admitted. “Actually, I’ve never been with anyone but Fred. How many girls have you been with, Jamal? C’mon, you can tell me.”

“Oh, I’m quite experienced, despite my age. A couple dozen girls so far, I guess.”

“You guess? Don’t you remember?”

“Well yeah, sure I remember, but I don’t really feel like taking a head count at the moment. This is the head I’m concerned about.”

I took her hand and placed it in my crotch.

“Oh my dear Lord,” she muttered in amazement. “Wow, I’m 18 and you’re 15. I’m an adult, and you’re a . . .”

I took her hand and moved it up and down the length of my cock over my pants. “Does that feel like something that belongs to a child?”

“No, but, do you think I could be arrested for child molestation?” She did giggle after saying that.

“Candy, Candy, Candy. Pull it out of my pants.”

She labored to do so, but finally got it out, and began stroking it with one little white hand.

I put my hand under her little cheerleader skirt and tugged on the matching panties. I pulled them down to her knees, and then they fell to her ankles. I began to tease what little bush she had, and then I started to finger her. She was wet and I found her clit real quick and made her wetter.

“Damn, Jamal, where did you learn how to do that? Ohhhh . . . you . . . ahhhh . . . that feels so good.”

“Oh, you like that, do you? That’s just my finger. I’d like to really give you a real thrill. I’d like to fuck you silly.”

Candy giggled again. “Well, Jamal, it’s not likely I’m going to say ‘no’ any time soon. My God, you are turning me on. I want your big black cock inside me, but we need to use a condom.”

“Of course we do. You have some?”

“Yeah, I do. I make Fred wear one whenever we . . . uh . . . you know. Babies are not in my immediate future, I hope.”

Candy pulled a package out of her purse and tore one off. She struggled to put it on me, and struggled, and struggled.”

“What’s the matter babe?” I questioned, becoming impatient. “I thought you did this before.”

“The damn thing won’t fit on you. It’s too small. No way are you riding bareback. What should we do?”

“Shantelle, Shantelle!” I called out loudly.

Shantelle, a junior, is one of the two black cheerleaders on the squad. I had fucked her and the other one a bunch of times. She came running.

“What is it, Jamal? On my, and what’s going on here? Gonna get you some Candy, I see.”

“Not if I can’t find a raincoat that fits. You got any more of those extra-large condoms we used?”

“Sure, honey.” She fetched them from her purse. “LifeStyles King Size XL, the largest latex condoms currently being manufactured. I don’t need them for anybody but you, and you have been ignoring me lately.”

“We’ll get together soon, babe. Promise. Now please lend me one of those condoms.”

“You can keep it, Jamal. I don’t really want it back.” She tittered as she handed me one. “Now don’t you forget about me. You promised. I miss that big dick of yours. I miss it real bad.” She turned and walked back down the aisle of the bus, on the way saying to the other black girl, “Candy will be breaking up with her boyfriend Fred real soon. Bet me.” She cackled.

I pushed Candy gently on her back, and started to slip it inside her. It took quite a while to get it all the way in, as she grunted and groaned and made pained faces. Finally, I got it up to the hilt, and she looked at me in shock, and whispered to me, “Oh my, I had no idea.” She looked like a zombie. “Fuck me, Jamal,” she purred. “Fuck me good.”

And then I made her squeal like a stuck pig, for almost an hour. Lucky for us my teammates had the music going good, rap stuff in honor of me.

I have trouble cumming with a condom on. When I could tell she had enough, I pulled my dick out, ripped the rubber off, and forced her head down on it. She couldn’t even get half of it down her throat, but she sucked the head real good and jerked the rest with her little white hands. I shot a big load in her mouth, and when I felt her gagging, I pulled out and finished on her face and lips. She stuck out her tongue and I slapped it with my dick until every last drop dripped out. Then she did what I really like. She put my cock back in her mouth until I wound down. Not many girls do that. She even managed to get a little more than half of it down her throat when it was soft.

When we got back to the school, the other cheerleaders had to help Candy off the bus. She was walking rather bowlegged, to say the least, and kept rambling on about something that sounded like “The Rapture.” I found out later she was a devout Baptist.

* * *

During the next school week, I fucked Candy before school, and then after school until basketball practice started, and then later at night. But I got bored with her. We won the state championship that weekend, and on that bus ride home I hooked up with her best friend, Sarah. That really pissed Candy off. She broke up with Fred and is now dating a black dude at another school. I know him. We played on a summer league team together and I’ve seen him in the locker room. He’s not as blessed as me, but I think he just might take second place.

* * *

I have many more experiences like this with white pussy to share if I am prompted to do so by your feedback. Let me know in a comment if you want me to continue.
39 comments

anonymous readerReport

2012-10-30 19:00:20
The action was kind of boring, though the lead up was fun. I don't think though that black people are all hung like mules, it's a stereotype, just like all Asian men are hung like tootsie rolls.

anonymous readerReport

2010-09-29 10:05:31
just a nigger trying to tell every one that niggers have big cocks like us white men and that all white women like nigger

anonymous readerReport

2010-09-03 04:13:38
Who cares if it's true or not? In my experience, black guys do have much bigger cocks than white guys. Porn sites cater to those who want to see BBC's aka Big Black Cocks. White women love black cock, period.

Anonymous readerReport

2010-04-24 23:41:44
At least you read it. Some interesting piece of fiction.

Anonymous readerReport

2010-04-07 08:16:13
So many misconceptions it can’t possibly be a true story, shame it was posted as true, it really spoilt it when I realised the guy was writing out of his ass.

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