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A Black-Addicted Whore's Confession

Updated: Oct 6, 2023



I am a black cock-addicted whore wife, for sure. I’ve got huge pair of tits, a large booty that's genuinely BUILT FOR BBC, and I know how to utilise both to tempt whichever man that I’m with, but also, I’m married, too. Not that being married has prevented me from wanting to be with other man; it has even enhanced it. I believe that there’re more men out there that love fucking married women than wanting to get with single bitches. Especially young single bitches. Those ones spend much time fighting over what size of dick to fuck, and whether or not to brag about it on social media. I don’t need to brag about nothing on social media, though my OnlyFans page does get busy most times.


I love to fuck, and my preference are always black men. Did I mention always, because black men are the only type of men that fascinate and satisfy me sexually in bed. I never bother about white men; I’ve only been with few Latinos, and though I don’t discriminate, I stick to black men more.



I have a black cock addiction problem that I haven’t gotten over since my first experience with a black man in my late teens. Having sex with a black man opened my eyes to various aspects of my sexuality that I’d never before thought about. It made me realise how bad I desire sex, and how enlightened of a woman that I’ve become about myself since becoming one with my sexual desires.


I am married to a white man, however, and that was more out of peer pressure from my parents than any other means. Harold is a good man, but even he knows that our being together is more out of convenience than the face that we’re compatible. One redeeming quality about him is that he knows how much of a sexually-hungry creature I am, and even he has confirmed reluctantly that he can barely keep up with my taste.



The thought of being with black men in bed haunts my mind majority of the day. It is cherishing that I live in a city that has a predominant black population; imagine what life would have been for me were I still residing in the small country town where my parents still live. There were few black people there to satisfy my lust. My parents were appalled with rage and shallow indignation whenever they saw me being mindful with any black men around. Always they harangued about me bringing shame to their family name, as if it was worth anything beyond the middle-American countryside where we lived. I never could have made them understand what it was that drove me, what compelled me towards wanting to be around black men. What incited me to want to keep having sex with them.


My first black cock experience got me hooked, as I’ve already stated, and it got me hooked at an important time in my life. I was still a virgin the first time I got with Michael, my black boyfriend from high school. We tried keeping things on a low down so as not to arouse suspicion and get people talking; in a small town, almost everyone is hungry for snippets of gossip, especially when it involved something as salacious as sex. I sneaked out of my parents’ home one night and went to meet Michael who had parked his car down the road. We drove to a nearby lake, shared some liquor (which always was my first time, but it did me a lot of good taking my mind off things), then Michael got me out of my dress and started kissing my tits. It felt good with my mouth on my bare body; I wanted more of it. He got out of his clothes and then claimed my virginity in the backseat of his dad’s Honda.


I scored twice that night—my first black cock, and losing my virginity—and haven’t looked back since.


I ought to consider myself a veteran by now with regards to the number of black cocks I’ve fucked, also the amount of black seed that my pussy has ingested. Though it’s astonishing that I’m yet to become successfully pregnant. This was before I decided to get married. Harold knows nothing can ever come between me and my addiction.



I threw a hen party the night before our wedding and got gangbanged by two black strippers; they also fucked my chief bridesmaid, which was a first-time for her getting blacked. I accrued enough energy after the wedding and got gangbanged by the same black strippers, whom I’d invited to my wedding as part of Harold’s groomsmen. It was my way of keeping eyes on them and making sure they didn’t get distracted by other horny bitches that were there. We drove to the hotel where we were putting up after the wedding, and the boys fed my mouth, pussy and anus with enough black dick thrusting they could give. One of them called up two other of his friends, and the party continued well into the morning. Harold did get to watch, and he ended up cleaning my pussy while the fellas took breaks.



Should I be conflicted that my addiction has made me into a whore? I don’t know, and won’t care less about such. To me, being a whore is a good thing; an indelible badge of honour. It puts you a step above other women, above the prima-donnas who think their pussy is worth double in value by the less number of men that get to fuck them. What nonsense that is! Pussies are meant to be fucked, likewise cocks are meant to fuck pussies; black cocks are the prize to which ever white pussy should declare wanted.


I do have steady black boyfriends. These are suitable gentlemen who don’t mind me spoiling them with my time and pleasure as much as they don’t mind fucking me like I’m a worthless trash. Their dicks are massive, incredible, and formidable to making me feel sore for days. Harold has watched us in action, and even he couldn’t help marvelling at their aggressive stamina. My boyfriends are like lions always seeking prey. My pussy, tits, mouth, and anus are their playground.


Harold loves hearing my freaky tales whenever he isn’t around to watch me in action. That happens whenever he travels out on business. I might put him on speaker to hear my loud screams, though he prefers when I tell him about my recent first-time encounters with various black men. One of such men, my best friend had introduced me to him as her fiancee. We met for lunch at an exclusive restaurant one afternoon. One look at him and I knew I wanted him badly. He and I worked a means of meeting in secret with my friend never been aware till this day. I intend fucking him on his bachelor night and making sure he cums inside my pussy so I can return and feed my husband with it.



That sounds nasty, I know. But I love it, and Harold loves it, too. He didn’t at first, but we’ve stayed married going four years, and I’ve since made him a firm believer regarding black cock supremacy. Even he has gotten into the act of finding credible black men online for me to fuck. The more, the better.


I don’t know how long I can carry onward with this lifestyle. At the pace that I’m going, I reckon that I’ll still be fucking black men beyond my menopause stage. I’ve read tales about older women in their 50s and 60s who are currently opening up to getting fucked by black men. I applaud such women for finding the courage to pursue their sexual desires even at such age, though I hope they don’t stifle the competition from me. As addicted as I am, I do know how to fight dirty.











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2 comentarios


bc0949947
bc0949947
02 ago 2023

i can't get enough i want it all the time


Me gusta

David Sissy
David Sissy
22 jul 2023

I admire those women who submit their cuckold husbands to the will of having sex with black men. The black man is of a total power of sexual persuasion for me, that I would not mind being the servant of the boyfriend of my wife's lover and her boyfriend of her black of hers .... Hopefully one day

...

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