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Six-Nine Dripping Fantasies Novel Cover

Six-Nine Dripping Fantasies

Witnessing her husband with another woman should have caused rage, but it sparked a dark, undeniable arousal instead. This collection features sixty-nine explicit tales of taboo surrender and raw desire. From clandestine step-family encounters and teacher-student affairs to intense group dynamics and voyeuristic thrills, these stories explore the boundaries of filth. Forget romance; prepare for a series of provocative scenarios where every forbidden craving is met.
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Chapter 1

My pupils widened when it moved on its own. The thick black shaft gave one slow, heavy twitch right in front of my face.

It was so close I could feel the heat coming off it, like a living thing breathing against my skin. The skin looked impossibly smooth, stretched tight over all that hardness, deep dark brown, almost black, shining a little under the light.

Right at the fat, swollen tip there was that small slit, pale inside like a secret mouth, already leaking one clear drop that hung there, trembling, ready to fall. I wanted to catch it with my tongue before it dropped.

Pale blue veins stood out everywhere, thick and raised like ropes under the dark surface. The biggest one ran straight along the bottom, pulsing slow and strong, feeding right into that wide, angry head.

Every time his heart beat I could see it jump a little, making the whole length lift and settle again. It looked powerful. Heavy. Too big to just look at.

My mouth went dry and wet at the same time.

I couldn't blink. I didn't want to.

My breath came out shaky. "Please..." I whispered, not even sure what I was begging for yet, just more of it, closer, filling my pussy. I wanted it in me. Its huge length against my tight hole, stretching me wide. I would die for it.

My hand immediately flew under my skirt, my eyes glued to it as I watched while I prepared myself. But before my finger could reach under my laced panties, a voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and that's when I saw it for what it was.

It wasn't a black cock like I thought. It was a sausage. One that was on the plate my colleague had now picked up.

"Huh?" I asked. I hadn't heard a word she said.

"Your lady client is here. She's asking for you." She repeated, then turned and walked away to serve her customers, leaving me catching my breath.

You're probably wondering what's wrong with me. I swear I'm not a whore who sees a cock in a sausage, but I have a reasonable explanation.

It all started a few weeks ago. I was cleaning the male bathroom when a dark-skinned handsome man walked in. He asked if he was in the right room and I said yes. He didn't give me a chance to show him to a stall or tell him I was busy cleaning, he immediately pulled down his trousers and there it was: exactly what I just imagined a few minutes ago.

His thick, huge black cock.

I'm a typical white woman. I've never even imagined being with a black man before, but right there my pussy ached and I knew I wanted it in me.

Well, I've been imagining it ever since. In fact, I even cancelled my date with Jerry, the guy I was in the talking stage with, because all I could think about was that BBC inside me.

"Millie, good to see you," I said to the woman who's been strangely coming here lately. All she does is ask for me.

"Nice to see you too, Ayda. I'll have the usual." She smiled and I nodded, pushing the menu back to my chest since she clearly didn't need it. I almost turned to leave when she caught my hand.

"Did I forget something?" I awkwardly cleared my voice.

"No, I just... my husband and I are throwing a house-warming party and I would love it if you came." She said it kindly.

My friends and I outgrew each other years ago, most of them have better jobs while I'm still struggling as a waitress. This woman has been so friendly since she started coming here, but I just didn't know how to tell her I wasn't into making friends... especially when she was part of my problem.

"I'm so sorry but-"

"Please. We're new and really trying to make friends. You know how it is for black folks." She pouted and I couldn't help but agree. "Thank you. I'm sure Lucan will be happy to see you."

"Who's Lucan?" I asked.

"My husband. You two met, remember that night when-"

"Yeah, yeah, I do." The memory was still very fresh because, remember the black cock I haven't stopped thinking about lately? Yep, it belonged to her husband. I actually met her too when she followed him into the bathroom and found us, her husband's cock all out and me staring at it. I thought she would be mad, but she was very cool about it.

Too cool, if you ask me. Since then she's been trying to get close to me.

"I'll be there," I said, swallowing hard. Actually, I don't know why I just said that. Clearly I can't keep my mind off her husband's cock.

What's going to happen when I come face to face with him tonight? Because even now I still want to feel it in me. So what the hell have I just gotten myself into?

Damn, Ayda. Now you're fucked.

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