Celeste by wyldprey

Celeste

Preface -

While I am new to reading and writing erotica, I was moved to do so because I so rarely see realistic Black women as primary characters in erotic fiction. Less so, do I see them as a willing submissive. Celeste was born to address that void.

Fantasy is a method of reaching into the deep subconscious. It is a way of safely giving voice to our deep seated fears and other strong emotions. It is also a method for resolving those issues or allowing them to be given release so the drive to action is not as strong.

Issues of race and racism are some of the deepest fears we as a society have. As a Black woman, I am interested in examining the way in which race and racism affect the sexual psyche. For me, Celeste is a method of understanding gender and race roles against an internal landscape which is riddled with the storms of sexual context.

- wyldprey@hotmail.com

Celeste

Journal Entry -

Late at the office again. More charity work. It looks good for the firm. It looks good for me.

I'm feeling pretty smug. I'm smart and I'm beautiful. When I can't get over with my brain, I get under with my looks. I turned 25 six months ago. I'm a junior partner at a good law firm. I've paid my dues and then some.

I graduated first in my class from both Wellesley and then Harvard Law School. For kicks, I'm thinking about slacking next year. Maybe I'll take an average case load and get my MBA. Yeah, that's right. Slacking. I work harder than anyone in my office.

I still hear my father's deep rumbling baritone mantra: "The only protection against racism, Celeste, is irrefutable excellence."

All right, I'll admit it. I'm only thinking about the MBA because...well because...I've got to find a way to meet some more eligible men. And it's enough of a challenge to keep me from getting bored. And the Great Good Goddess knows, I'm getting bored. I've got a case of ennui and horny so bad they might have to medicate me.

It's not as if I'm bad looking. I stand about 5'7" in heels. My body is round in all the right places. When Creator put my parts together, he must have had good plans laid out for some man. My melon sized breasts make my trim 24 inch waist look even smaller. People are always asking if my tits are real because I'm so trim and they're so big and perky. But, just like my job, I work hard at taking good care of my breasts. I lift weights so they stay nice and high. The small brown nipples contrast nicely with my creamy caramel colored skin.

I hear the whispers at the Black Bar Association. Some folks say the only reason the firm took me was because I'm high yellow. They think I get ahead faster because of my light brown skin. All that proves is somebody's great granddaddy got forceful and randy with my great grandmama. My hips are full but not too full. Not quite an hourglass figure...my hips are too small...but close. I started growing dreadlocks when I was in high school. They're all the way down to my ass now. And they have the nerve to talk about my creme brule skin with their hair weaves and corpse lookin' temporaries? Puhlease!

My ass is the feature that attracts men. I've got the highest, roundest most typical African ass ever given to a woman. Something about my ass makes men want to get in there.

But, I'm saving that for marriage.

Good lord, with the fantasies I have I hope that will be soon! I fantasize a lot. Maybe that's why I'm keeping this journal. I need some way to sort myself out. I've already cycled through every eligible bachelor in town. I don't really get to spend enough time with people who are my intellectual equal. I guess I'm lonely and hungry for a new relationship. Something deep, profound, intellectually engaging.

Sigh. Half hour before I have to leave for the meeting. I'm wearing that conservative coat dress today. Looking forward to seeing Marty Masterson at the meeting. The dress is held together with two little buttons. If one of them popped off, I'd be arrested for indecent exposure! It turns me on knowing this respectable looking dress is so flimsy that at any moment anyone could discover I look like a porn slut. Besides, it shows off my ass incredibly well. My clit feels tingly. I feel a bead of moisture dripping out of my tight cunt. I'm going to get a charge out wearing this in front of Marty Masterson tonight. That's why he really wants to date me. I know that's why white men love Black women. They can't wait to get in our asses.

Asses. Now there's something. In my fantasies, I always picture myself on my wedding night kneeling on all fours before my perfect ebony husband. The husband of my fantasy world is always a tall muscular dark-skinned man. Uh oh... mind drift...better not write this down.

I close my journal. Check the door to my office is locked. A quick glance at my watch shows I've got enough time. Oh yeah...ebony prince...debonair

New Afrikan...Black superhero...my husband...honeymoon. I put my foot up on my desk. My hand slips into my red silk panties.

I've met my dream man. It's our honeymoon. I am nervous and a little jumpy. I feel bad that I don't have my virginity to give him as my wedding present. My ass is the last untouched place on my body. Deep in my heart,

I know he would have preferred to marry a virgin. So, I am opening the most private part of myself for his pleasure. I imagine him stroking the tight puckered hole with his fingers. His finger strokes my wet clit. Two slender long digits dip into my tight pussy. They circle making my pussy emit wet swishing noises. My back arches like a heat crazed bitch.

He kisses my back. His languorous tongue travels slowly up my spine. He blows on the wet trail. My skin tingles with a chilled rush of excitement. His other hand reaches around and toys with my hard nipples. He flicks their tip. Pulls on them. An electric bolt of passion races down from my nips through my stomach connecting with my clit.

My moans grow deeper. Animalistic. Pre-historic. Tribal and primal.

He inserts another finger and another until all four fingers fuck my dripping cunt. Too much pressure. He is stretching my tight cunt more than its ever been. But, I love it. My muscles tense and spasm with the supreme way he fills my hungry pussy. Invading. Conquering. Making my cunt conform to his shape. My nipples pucker and wrinkle under his fantastic stroking and pinching. My skin flushes. Tiny pinpricks of sweat erupt from my pores. I glisten under his touch. Surrender to whatever he wants from me.

My hips rock back against him. Synchronize to his delicious rhythm.

"Oh yeah, you feel so good." I purr at him in a husky voice.

Suddenly, he grabs my hair in his hand. Yanks my head back. I feel his warm breath on my neck as he leans down and whispers, "Slut. You'll groan and grunt for any stud that tickles your loose hole, won't you?" Shocked, embarrassed and hurt, I whine, "That's not true! I've worked hard to keep my pussy tight."

"That's okay slut. I'm going to ride you like no man has ever ridden you before."

He draws his pussy slick fingers up to my quivering ass. Roughly pushes his finger inside my tight hole. I wince and gasp. It hurts. I try to pull away, but he has wrapped my long locks around his wrist like reins on a horse. He works his finger roughly in and out of my virgin hole. Jerks my head back even more forcing my back to arch. He pushes his fingers deeper into my ass. They burn. I am suddenly afraid that his thick twelve inch pole will tear the muscles. His cock slides between my legs. I feel its smooth head rubbing against my wet lips. A dribble of pre-cum slides down my thigh. He pulls my head back even further. I have to remind myself that I love him and trust him. I can't imagine why he would treat me so brutally.

He slips his hard cock inside of my pussy. Slowly, rhythmically he plunges in an out. His delightful rock-hard passion-plunger teases my soaked horny cunt. His breath quickens. His cock is moving so slowly, so delicately. Reaching deep. Stroking all of the right places. Setting my nerve endings on fire while his finger harshly drills at my tense asshole. He is making a cocktail of pain chased by exquisite pleasure. The tremors begin deep inside my cunt as I begin to cum. I'm panting hard between staccato moans of ecstasy and pain.

"No." He growls, abruptly pulling out. He has fucked me to the edge of an ecstatic cliff. I try to wriggle my hips to get him back inside of my pussy. He slaps my ass hard. I cry out.

His harsh voice firmly states,
"You..."
Slap.
."..will..."
Slap
."..take..."
Slap! SLAP!
."..what..."
Slap!
."..I *SLAP!* give *SLAP!* you....."
"And *SLAP!* nothing *SLAP!* more."
"Is that clear?"

"Yes," I whisper. Who is this monster I married? I try to look at him. He yanks my head back so all I can see is the ceiling. My scalp burns and tingles.

He hand crashes down on my firm round ass harder. My ass tingles from the heat from his hand. Gently, tenderly he runs his hand up my spine. His finger sweetly teases the tip of my nipple. I ease back rubbing my clit against the broad head of his cock. I feel the orgasmic waves building again. Suddenly, he pinches the hard brown nubs. Hard. Mercilessly. Pain shoots through my chest.

"Not until I tell you." He rolls my nipple between his fingers. Then squeezes them hard. He leans in, his the slick chest pressing against my back. His voice is a hot, harsh, moist, gravelly whisper flicking against my earlobe. "From now on, you will call me, Master. Is that clear?"

I am strangely turned on by his forceful assertiveness. My cunt is wetter than it's ever been in my entire life. I just want him to keep giving me this sweet twisted pleasure.

"Yes, Master." My mind is reeling. What have I gotten myself into? I waver between thrill and the sudden knowledge that I ought to begin divorce proceedings tomorrow.

"I knew you were smart. That's why I married you." He says flatly. "Because you caught on so quickly, I'm going to reward you by fucking your ass. Say thank you."

"Thank you, Master." I say quivering with fear and anticipation.

"Good girl. You can cum now." He tweaks my clit as a reward. The pleasant sensation so quickly after this woeful surprise personality trait sends me over the edge.

He releases my hair. I fall onto my elbows as the orgasm takes over my body. The flashing heat against my perfect globes surprises me as his hand slaps repeatedly against my ass. His finger on my clit triggers wave after wave of ecstasy. "That's right slut Every pleasure has it's punishment."

His thick twelve inch cock presses between my cheeks. Impatient against my now very tense hole. I'm terrified it will permanently stretch me. This is not the tender deflowering I had anticipated. He forces the knob into my semi-dry hole. I scream. He laughs and grabs my hair again pulling me up again on all fours. I can't believe I'm allowing him to treat me so brutally. His other hand settles on my left hip. With one powerful jerk forward, his cock batters my virgin sphincters.

My barriers shredded. My asshole burns. It feels as if his cock is so deep it is up under my heart. I'm afraid his huge piston will disembowel me or split me in half. I whimper.

I'm barely able to pant. "Please stop, Master." Just having him in my ass, not moving, sears. Burns. Red stars burst against my closed eyes. Pain. Rockets of agony. Hurts.

My teary eyes are hopeful and relieved. He pulls out. I scream. His prick is on fire. A sharp blue flame burning me from the inside out. He pauses.

I look over my shoulder at him. Just the tip inside doesn't feel as bad.

"Stop?" he asks.

He jerks my head back and forth, making me nod.

"Please, Master. Please stop," I whisper.

He laughs a low throaty grunt of a laugh. Slams into me harder. Again the white heat rips me open. My heart bangs wildly in my chest. He is so deep inside of me. I howl with dismay and agony. He slams into me again and again. Faster and faster. I weep. Almost on the edge of passing out. He pump my delicate hole like a merciless jackhammer.

"Oh, this is better than virgin tight. I knew I did the right thing marrying you. Tell me you love it." He says.

I can not say anything. Tears flow down my face. I grope for consciousness.

"Tell me you love it," his voice is insistent. When I don't answer he pulls completely out of me. I sigh with relief. Maybe he knows this little game has gone too far. Then, his cock is there again invading, pumping, pummeling my ass. His hand diddles my clit again building the pleasure. It has started to feel good. His piston has forced my body to yield willingly to its punishment. My hips begin to rock against him.

I find myself whispering, "I love it."

"What?" He says.

"I love it," I say louder between moans of mounting pleasure. His finger on my clit feels so good! His cock pumping in and out of my newly opened nether hole makes me feel open to his every whimsy. I sense that if I serve him well, I will be cherished, protected and loved. I won't have any other worries than pleasing my master. I wonder where these perverse thoughts are coming from. But, it excites me so much.

His twelve inch ebony cock sliding in and out of my now stretched hole sends small ripples of pleasure through my whole body. His finger insistently cajoles rhythmic spasms of pleasure. I'm straining not to cum. His fuckpole thrusting so deeply inside of me makes my eyes water up with tears of unbounded pleasure.

"Who am I, Celeste?" he asks.

"You are my husband. My Lord and Master."

His arm reaches around and pinches my nipples lightly. The sensation is like an light switch turning on the most intense orgasm I've ever had in my life.

"Yes, Celeste. Cum now! Yes!" he shouts, "Cum for your Lord and Master." I cum as he shoots his frothing white seed deep inside of me.

The alarm on my wristwatch goes off. "Damn," I say aloud to the empty office. I gather up my briefs and sigh. I wish this is what would really happen on my wedding night. I slide my soaked fingers out of my panties and sigh. Where would I ever find such a progressive brother? I can't even imagine telling one that had these master/slave fantasies. Talk about politically incorrect!

My thoughts turn to Marty Masterson. I bet Marty would love nothing more than a Black slave begging him to fuck her up the ass. I smile wistfully.

Now, white men get into that shit. It's in their blood. I sigh. No way, I'm dating a white man, my career couldn't take it.

I met Marty Masterson doing charity work. He fascinates me. His father founded the most prestigious law firm in the state. His blue eyes are shrewd and hard. He is quick to assess any situation and he has very little patience for all of the droning do-gooders and their whining impossible ideas. He dismisses suggestions at the Board meetings with a toss of his golden mane, a biting remark and a flick of his hand. He makes me very horny.

I think he makes me so horny because he does everything I want to do but can't. I feel like I always have to be diplomatic. I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, not a platinum one.

He asked me out several times. I always decline. Every time he asks me out, I have to remind myself that he is not boyfriend material. My public image depends on dating acceptable Black men. But, Marty turns me on something fierce. The way he removes his jacket with an arrogant feline stretch. His hard chest pressing against his fine cotton shirts.

Sometimes, he wears a tight silk shirt under a double breasted jacket. When he stretches, the shirt rides up. The etched 'v' above the waistline of his paints seems to point at the huge lovely prick I see outlined in the folds of his pants. The fine trail of blonde pubic hair beginning at his belly button seems to say, "for a good time, follow me."

I know he catches me unconsciously licking my lips while I imagine sliding his big ivory prick into my full maroon lips. He winks at me those times.

He always smirks as the hot blush creeps up my caramel cheeks. I feel his eyes on my hot face even though I avert my own. I can't believe I'm that transparent.

Oh, honey, do I ever look forward to Board meetings! I always dress very sexily because I'm not the only one having lewd fantasies. I catch him undressing and fucking me in his imagination also. I know he wants it. But the question is how does he want it?

I wonder if he fantasizes about me whipping his muscular white ass in time to his hand making quick hard strokes on that hot white cock of his. Kneeling before me, his pink lips pressed against with my soft curly black snatch. His tongue lapping at my glistening pussy. Licking my thigh high leather boots. I would tease him... make him powerless against my slick pussy. For centuries White men thought they could conquer, own and take Black women easily. No.

I'd get him so hard it hurt. Make him stay that way while he pleasured me for hours. Maybe I wouldn't even let him get hard. Maybe, I'd find one of those cute Victorian cock rings they made with the spikes on the inside to keep naughty little boys from getting hard. Yeah, I'd put him in one of those. Then, flick my tongue against the tip of his prick. Giggling, as he moaned with frustration. Teasing him for hours. Stroking his stomach. Caressing the inside of his thighs. Nuzzling and licking his taut, strained balls. Lick around that awful Victorian cock ring until he begged with tears in his eyes to remove it. Finally after an agonizing afternoon, I straddle his body and ride his prick until I shuddered and convulsed with pleasure.

I wonder if that's what type he is. Or I wonder if he wants me to submit to him. Return to the glory days of white people.

And weirdly enough, this is what titillates me. I wonder if he sees himself roughly shoving me to my knees. Pushing his white cock deep into my mouth. Fucking my sweet, surrendering brown face. Unloading his seed on my face.

I'll bet he wants to take me like my fantasy husband. I catch him watching my swaying ass sometimes with a predator's grin. He wants in that tight hole. I'll bet he'd fuck me hard, fast and furious. He'd offer no mercy. Then he'd make me beg for him to cum on me. Or beg to swallow the tablespoons of cum. I'll bet he imagines his cock spewing cum on my back like he's the whipped cream on a mocha cappuccino .

I know it frustrates him that he can't have me. After the Board meeting, I always rush home and masturbate. Sometimes, during the meetings I get so bored I just can't help myself. I press my legs together and give myself tiny quaking orgasms.

The meeting is going slowly tonight. I watch Marty manipulate and move the agenda along. I'm too bored to follow. I am really only interested in one item tonight. If I win the vote, I go head to head with Marty. We're on opposite sides of the issue this time.

My mind drifts. We're in court together. After humiliating and discrediting all of his witnesses, I perform my closing arguments by asking the Black judge permission to walk over to a jury of well-hung strong Black men. Approaching the jury's foreman, I remove his 10 inch cock from his pants. I kneel at his feet and draw the limp cock into my mouth. My head pumps up and down as my tongue flutters against the bulbous tip. The foreman's eyes flutter shut as my hot wet mouth makes his rod swell. A soft moan escapes his mouth, as my mouth slides back and circles the tip languidly before plunging back down. I slurp and lick the stiff brown fuckpole. My mouth nuzzles and sucks his tight aching balls into my mouth. His moans grow deeper, more guttural. My tongue is teasing our savage inner nature out of him.

Marty looks on in absolute impotent fury. He objects, moving to approach the bench. The bailiff restrains him. I giggle as I gobble the foreman's massive black cock, his hips tense. He tries to contain himself. I feel the veins in his brown steel shaft throb and pulse. His hips lock straining to be polite and not brutally shove his entire urgent meat down my throat. I relax my throat and draw him in deeper. As I pump his fuck shaft deeper

into my throat, his whole body is rigid with burning pleasure. Sensing this, I look up into this glazed brown eyes, pull back and deliver my closing argument,

"Fuck my slutty mouth. You know what to do. I trust all of your decisions. Make the right decision. Hammer my mouth with your battering ram of passion. Make the right decision."

The other jury members have taken out their cocks and have stroked them into a legion of powerful hard mighty Black cocks. One member saunters up beside me.

"I've got a decision to make," he says pointing at his dick. "I decide I'm going to fuck your cute little pussy and cum all over you. " He laughs.

I smile up at him, "That's right. Make the right decision," I say. "Pardon me," I demurely excuse myself from sucking the foreman's juicy cock. I stand. Slowly, I remove my clothing. My body is now naked before the court. Marty's assessment of my form is obviously positive based upon the

undeniable evidence of the tent his pants make. Neatly, I fold my clothing. I motion to the stenographer to carry them away from this closing argument fuckfest. He willingly obliges, patting my firm ass before he goes.

The jury murmurs encouragement, "That's right sister," they say. "Trust your brothers to do the right thing," they mutter. "Your brothers won't let you down, sister," they say.

The foreman looks ready to explode. "Yes, your decision was to fuck my slutty mouth. " I'm on all fours before him. He smiles. The jury's foreman kneels before my eager waiting mouth.

He drives his hard cock into my throat shouting "I'm gonna fuck your high yellow throat with my badass Black cock until you beg for judgement day."

He forces himself quickly into my throat as the other juror rams his twelve inch member into my shivering, glistening hole. The foreman grabs the side of my head, ramming my mouth furiously. His rough pubic hair is course against my soft skin. His thick tip pushes uncomfortably against the back of my throat. My tongue rolls against the base of his shaft, making him shiver as he slides in and out of my juicy mouth. Drops of saliva trickle down my chin as he batters my tonsils, my tight throat.

The other juror is matching him stroke for stroke. Like dancers at a nightclub, their hips work in unison to alternately slam my penetrated holes against each other ramrods right as they're thrusting. I am filled with sweet brotherly cock. My Black brothers can fuck! They're pounding the horny right out of my slutty body. I moan sending tremors of vibrations against both forceful cocks. The foreman shivers as I massage his balls with my hand, stroke his belly, run my fingernails up the sensitive skin of his chocolate thigh. Simultaneously, they pull out quickly.

At the top of his lungs, Marty is screaming, "Objection! Objection!" Marty strains against the muscular, bald Black bailiff.

The judge says quietly and in a most sinister way, "Shut up, Marty Masterson, before I have to issue a gag order." This draws giggles from the court. Marty turns red.

My hand wraps around the base of the foreman's cock, squeezing tightly, holding back the geyser of cum he is about to release. My tongue flickers and flutters against the tip. His whole body strains to release. The foreman stands above my like some discerning God, slick rock hard prick in pulsing in my face. I feel the other juror let go a hot wad of cum on my ass.

I whisper, "Mister Foreman, show the others how you make the right decision. When you cum in my mouth, you are saying not guilty. Now give me your decision." I open my mouth, my chestnut brown eyes look deeply into his own brown eyes glazed with pleasure. My full burgundy lips slide over the tip as my tongue flicks and teases the tender underside. The Foreman is ready to burst. He tries to hold his steamy load.

From the corner of my eye, I see another juror is ready to deliver his verdict. He strolls behind me. Spreads my ass cheeks. I feel his huge Black cock. With no ceremony, he rams as far into my ass as he can. My first sphincter tense and unready. I relax. Accept his huge fourteen inch obsidian cock. He pumps into me. He bellows "How can something so sweet be wrong. Not guilty." He yells, pumping my ass hard and fierce. "Oh baby, this little yellow bitch is tight!" His balls slap against my clit sending waves of pleasure through my body.

I smile sweetly up at the Foreman. "Not guilty. Give it to me." My hand pumps the his wet cock. My tongue presses urgently against the tip. My lips draw him deeper into my mouth again. I relax, allowing him to slide into my eager throat. His cock pulses. Pushes against my esophagus as I swallow and swallow him. My throat muscles massage his cock to orgasm. He explodes his thick white jism in my belly. His acid sweet load spurts fast and faster. Too much to take. Cum dribbles from the corner of my mouth. He pulls out quickly delivering the rest of his load on my face and in my mouth. . I swallow. My quick tongue darts out the catch every drop. I rhythmically squeeze my ass muscles around the cock working my ass out. He pushes in to the hilt, huge balls rubbing against my clit. He grabs my hips as if he could get himself in deeper. I feel him freeze grow rigid. His cock pulses it seed deep inside my ass.

I look over and wink at Marty. Marty glowers at me as I stroke the last bits of cum from the foreman's cock. I lick up each precious white pearl.

The foreman sighs and sinks into his seat. "Make the right decision." I reinforce. "Not guilty." He nods as I move on to the next juror.

Marty's voice calls my name. I startle out of my fantasy. I jerk upright.

Try to disassociate myself from my spasming orgasming pussy.

"Miss Blackman. We're voting on the revision to the by-laws of Article III A(6), Miss Blackman." He raises one eyebrow at me. His blue eyes narrow slightly. Then, slowly he smiles. The smile confuses me, it holds both challenge and camaraderie. It's enough to make my pussy muscles contract again. My slick pussy threatens to dampen more than my panties. "Yes," I state firmly.

He smirks at me. Again the eyebrow shoots up. He and I had lunched, coffee'd, emailed, wined and argued about this issue for three months. I peer over at my neighbor's agenda. I shudder - oh shit - this was the change I wasn't in favor of in!

"Just kidding, Mr. Chairman, that would be a definitive no." I say brusquely. I smile, trying to brush off my obvious inattention. The other Board members laugh. He flashes that perfect All-American movie star grin at me. Inwardly, I groan. I have got to get a real life! This fantasy thing has gotten a little out of hand.

The Board meeting concludes. Marty asks me to have a late night coffee. I accept. That fantasy really had me going! I'm not ready to give up being near him just yet. We meet at a chic coffee shop. I sit in the plush chair allowing the dress to pull open and show the edge of my garter and stockings. The top gapes a little revealing the red lace bra barely containing my huge breasts. I'm enjoying showing him something he can't have. I see Marty's eyes struggle to remain aloof and professional.

Suddenly, he leans across the table. He licks his lips.

"Celeste," he says, voice is husky. I smirk realizing, he's been having his own little fantasies all evening. "I want to go out with you. And I know you won't stand for it. And I respect you for it. "

"Look, Marty, we've been through it. Okay? Leave it." I snap back.

"If you won't date me, I want you to consider a partnership at Masterson,

Onnet and Haveall."

My eyes widen. My heart beats. Now, he's pulled one on me! He leans back,

a curious half smile on his face. I don't know what to say. I raise one eyebrow at him. Trying to regain my cool. "I'll consider it. But, why?"

"Don't act like you don't know. Twice last month you trounced Skip. He's my all star. First the intellectual property suit and then the easy no-brainer copyright infringement suit. I can't afford for us to be on different sides. Besides," he winks, "then I'll al least get to be near you more often."

My heart pounds. "I'll think about it," I tell him. Of course, I'm leaping at the chance. In Marty I've had found my equal. The idea of spending five days a week near him, teasing him all while advancing my career is too good to be true. And since he's a senior partner, he'll stop asking me out. Hard to resist. The last thing such an upstanding lawyer would do is jeopardize his career by risking a sexual harassment suit.

I'll negotiate with my firm tomorrow. Just to see if there's any mileage I can get. But, I know I'll hand in my resignation by the end of the week even if they offer me a full partnership.

I guess I'm going to have to start carrying a spare.

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