Old couches were placed here and there along with the occasional loveseat. Various quotes and artistic images covered the walls. In a corner was a sma...l slightly raised stage- more of a deck, really- with a single dim spotlight shining on a microphone stand with a stool next to it. I glanced around. The clientele represented an interesting cross-section of Chrystal Heights. Several mohawked punks lounged on a couch sipping cappuccinos and Shakespeare in equal doses. A bespectacled accountant in. But he just kept a firm position not moving as his big cock stayed planted inside. She kept telling me to relax and except it. That it was my calling to be a black cock whore and that he was going to break me in, like breaking in a wild horse. After 10 minutes, I felt my rosebud give in. It surrendered to him, loosening up completely, my legs far apart knees touching the mattress like a total spread out whore, his whore. I was stoned and tipsy. Whatever was in the mixture they gave me it had. Patty knew I was aware that the party wasn’t a surprise, but she thought I’d had a delightful time last night. I hoped everyone did.By the time I was done in the shower, the house was empty and I knew they’d be next door at breakfast. I got dressed slowly, the incision still tender and sore from last night’s exertion. When I was presentable, I started looking around the room and couldn’t find my phone or my wallet. I knew my mother had them and wondered if she was holding them on suspicion that. That guy next door isn't even that good looking. I'm going to start thinking I'm ugly if you won't look at me. You wouldn't want that, would you?"I knew she didn't mean it, but she wasn't giving me much of an option anyway. I took a deep breath, fighting against the tingle of blood trying to rush between my legs. "What kind of game are you playing?" No game. I knew you were here, and I've always thought you were hot. I like older guys. So..."Before my brain could process that information, she.