Free Maureen's Choice by Charles Arnold Page A

slightly up and down a few times. Her eyes widened. She was gasping, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She was on the edge of an orgasm.
    Maureen was rocking back and forth just out of reach of Sam’s cock, “Please honey,” she cried out, “please let me cum, fuck me so I can cum. I want it! I want you inside me!”
    Sam lowered her on his cock and thrust up to meet her. He lifted her and dropped her quickly several times, “Aggggh!” she screamed as she came in a shuddering orgasm.
    Sara turned and ran down the stairs calling for her father.

C hapter Four
    Maureen rolled off Sam’s body and lay face down on the bed sobbing uncontrollably. Sam watched her indifferently for awhile, then got up and went to the bathroom to piss. When he returned, Maureen had quieted somewhat but was still crying. She could faintly hear Brian downstairs and preparing the foldout couch to sleep on. Sam stood next to the bed for a moment before he turned Maureen over. She stared at the ceiling refusing to look at him. Roughly, he pulled her so that she was on the edge of the bed. Her lipstick was smeared and her mascara had streaked her cheeks. She looked at him, the hatred burning in her eyes. He moved closer so that his cock dangled above her face. “Put a fuckin pillow under your head and open your mouth,” he ordered. She hesitated for a moment, then fearing he might shout, she placed the pillow beneath her head. He leaned closer. The tip of his cock rested on her closed lips. “Kiss it,” he said. She pressed her lips tighter together. He twisted her nipple viciously. She cried out in pain. “Tongue kiss it, bitch,” he said, his thumb and index finger still pinching her nipple. She lifted her head slightly and, parting her lips, licked the slit of his piss hole.
    He stepped back. “You look like shit,” he said. “You gotta look good for your black lover, right? You forgettin that I just let you cum?”
    She sat up slowly and nodded, “Yes, Sam. I need to look good for my black lover.” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “Thank you for allowing me to cum.” She crossed to the small make-up table and wiped her face clean. She applied fresh mascara and lipstick and gloss. She brushed her hair, then sat looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed. The anger in her eyes had been replaced by resignation. She had lost her husband on the night Travis came to their house. She had turned her sister over to Dexter. And tonight she’d chased her children out of the house so she could grossly fuck a black man in her bed. If she weren’t careful, her children would learn the truth about her, and she couldn’t allow that. She had no family now but black men like Sam and Travis who humiliated and abused her. She truly belonged to them. The thought of it terrified her, but at the same time she felt a hot rush sweep over her body.
    Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed. As if he’d read her thoughts, he said, “There ain’t no way back, Mrs. O’Donnel. That first time you came into the bar lookin for Travis we knowed you was gonna belong to us. You knowed it too.”
    She listened hard for sounds from downstairs and heard none. Apparently Brian had settled in. She turned to face Sam, “Yes, Sam. I wasn’t sure then, but I am now.” Still naked except for her heels, she crossed the room to stand before him. She put his calloused hands on her hips and looked down at him, “Do I look good enough for my black lover?” she asked.
    He appraised her and nodded, “You’ll do,” he said.
    She placed her hands over his and moved them up along her body until they cupped her breasts. Slowly and deliberately she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. “I want to look good for you, Sam. I want you to want me. I want you to…to make me do things.”
    He squeezed her distended nipples. “Yeah, I’ll make you do things. You can start on my balls,” he sneered.
    She got to her knees and, lifting his heavy cock,