Oh god a thrill racing through me so strong I gasped out. I focused on his face, still, his body unmoving, the knife trembling slightly in his hand a... he held himself over me."Green," I whispered, and he was back on me, the cool metal of the knife back up against my neck, his body on top of mine, pinning me, holding me in place."Keep still, bitch," he said, pressing the knife harder against my throat, turning and digging into the bag he had brought as I watched his face, his profile strong and. What he had seemingly done was a complete and total "slap in the face" to me, and I was far too much of a wimp to stand up to the black man. His obvious show of black supremacy was insulting and degrading to me, just as I was sure that it would be to any white weakling wimp husband.Still demoralized, I walked back over to the couch and layed down. It was hard to absorb what had just happened, and what I had just observed. Once again, I fell asleep feeling completely defeated. The young black. Turning sideways on the seat I adjusted my t shirt so it exposed a much flesh as I could and made sure my legs were on view. I then got the chocolate bar out of my handbag and ate it moaning in pleasure all the time. Drawing up to my stop I stood by the doors and waited. Stopping and opening the doors I turned around pecked him on the cheek, noticing the tent in his trousers, and wiggled my way off the bus blowing him a kiss. “Bye sweetie thanks for the ride” I simpered “Can I have your. “I don’t know,” Vanessa commented. “Now, while he’s still a little bit soft, I like the feel of your prick against my back, but if he gets all hard and lumpy I might not be comfortable. If that happens I hope you don’t mind if I stop your story for a moment to give me a chance to make him soft and comfortable again.” “And how would you do that?” I asked. “Oh, I don’t know,” Vanessa replied casually. “Depends on the mood I’m in. I might jerk him off. I might give him a suck. Or if I’m feeling.