I can just imagine them, noosed and naked but for a white shroud, the coffin they sat on during their last journey, in the back of the cart waiting fo... them. I can imagine lots of smiling women in the crowd and hear them cheer as the cart is drawn away. Many would have helped themselves to orgasms beneath those heavy skirts they wore, as they watched the male dance for them, perhaps having one last orgasm himself too, in front of so many people." Her words had me tingling all over. I thought of. When I’m bringing my tongue up I flatten it so it’s gently touching her labia until I can get to her clit and start to gently suck on it. I’m hearing her moaning so I know I’m eating her just the way she loves it. I move my hands and start to feel her as then bring them around so I can spread her pussy out to get better access to her clit. Sucking on her clit it getting her wet so I can go down and swallow more of her tasty juices. Suddenly she starts to fuck my face I know this is the signal. The young Black Man agreed that he did, indeed, like what his eyes beheld.The Young Black Man reflected back on the evening's events. He was in an absolute state of bliss! He could not believe his luck! This sexy White Woman had picked his black ass up at a bar - where there were too many Black Studs to count - and dragged him back home with her. They then polished off a bottle of champagne...whereupon Joani (her real name?) excused herself and left the living room. She was back in a flash. The time I had would be sufficient to just try something, after all this was a daring experiment, without any guides to how it should take place, without the question of why?Why? Haven’t a clue - but the thoughts and fantasies of something similar to this have occupied my brain and spilled out in several stories.A writer can always imagine, that’s where success lies. A fertile imagination is however very necessary and luckily I have one.Holly must like Marmite I reckoned, although never having.