I answered and low and behold... they chose me. It was a really terrible run down little hotel. It was the middle of the night. Deep after with witchi...g hour. No, those witches ain't shit. He met me at the door, in boxers, a raging hard on in his hand and a beer in the other. He smelled like weed and cum. He said "the other guy just left. you are right on time." The room smelled like cum and sweat. My cock was so hard. When I stepped into the room I saw Nichole for the first time. she was. It was 'just' a dream, remember, but I'd often felt guilty that my relatives had actually owned other human beings! Sure, the Civil War had left the largely unrepentant South devastated for generations (and in some places it had never fully recovered), but defeated, or not, many Southerners didn't feel sorry for their history of slave ownership. I did, however.Back to the dream---In it, I'd received a letter in the mail informing me that as a Southern white male, and who's ancestors had been. All I could see of her were her knees and now I knew he was fucking me like a woman. I felt this strange desire to have him control me, to use me, yet I wanted to cum and feel my cock explode. But without his hand or mine shaving I doubted it would happen.In my mind was this black and white picture on the bent up old magazine page of the man on top of a woman. The only difference, other than I wasn’t a woman was she was hugging him around the neck. My arms were beside me and I decided to. I messaged Mrs C who was dancing on the floor with a couple of girls. Telling her want Sam had said. She came back with a message “does the master want to come and watch them fuck his little slutty wife then?”I signal to Sam I am head out for a fag break. With Sam goes over to these two lads only in the early 20’s. And pints at me. I head out side collecting Mrs C on the way. As we get out side Mrs C lights her fag up. The two lads are soon out side as well. Mrs C turns to me and says “so.