It was before the war spread south to Georgia. It was a time when Atlanta was still beautiful and the home of many of the ConfederacyÕs finest gentlemen. It was then that Leasa Edwards, daughter of Colonel Everett Clyborn Edwards, was the most sought after beauty south of the Mason-Dixon Line. Heiress to one of the largest plantations in GeorgiaÑÔTaraÕÑLeasa Edwards was both wealthy and lovely. This stately, young woman caught the eye of all and any fine, young, southern gentleman in her vicinity. Who could resist her slender, 5Õ7Ó frame swaying through a southern breeze? And who could not admire her fine, blonde hair coiffed demurely in a bun or rolling freely down her back. And those deep blue eyes set in a perfect face of pale white, delicate skin were found irresistible by any man who met her acquaintance. Most men also admired her goddess-like figure: 36C-24-35. She was as close to perfect as ever a woman was...with a personality to match. She was kind-hearted, gay, and bright. Leasa Edwards was truly a treasure of Southern femininity. Atlanta's nights would see many of the cityÕs finest young gentlemen calling on ÒMiss LeasaÓ. They would take strolls with her along the paths of the city and around the plantationÕs many acres. They would sit with her on the mansionÕs veranda, just gazing on her beauty. But all of the courting was very much chaperoned, of course, by LeasaÕs family as well as some of the house slaves. Some nights LeasaÕs daddy, the Colonel, would hold parties on the grounds of the plantation. There would be much drink, food, and partying. Some lucky young beau would get to hold LeasaÕs hand while they watched the darkies dance and sing for the pleasure of the upper crust Whites in attendance. Old, fat SamboÑone of the older slavesÑwould dance for the revelers and make everyone laugh till their sides split. Leasa would love to watch the funny, fat, black man dance Springthomas Tube Tricia Oaks Cuckold Sessions Black Dick Fuck "There goes the neighborhood," said Wendy looking out the window. Stan looked up from his dinner. His six foot tall, buxom blonde wife was framed in the sunlight staring out the window. She could have joined the Swedish bikini team she was so beautiful and stacked, everyday he was reminded of how lucky he was and today with the sunlight shining on her was no exception. "What do you mean?" he asked. "It looks like the new neighbor's a black guy." "Well you can cross twenty thousand dollars off the value of our house then." Stan got up and joined his wife at the window. "Man he's huge, he's probably just a moving man." The man bulged with muscles and had a shaved head. The black giant wasn't working though, three other black men were unloading boxes from a truck. "You're probably right," she replied watching as the three workers finsihed, they bowed their heads towards the bald giant and left. ******************** Stan was wrong, the new neighbor was the black man. Stan saw him outside the next day as Stan was flipping burgers on the grill. "Hello," he called. "Hello," said the black man coming over to the fence. "Stan Marsh," said Stan shaking hands with the biggest man he had ever seen, watching his own normal-sized hand get swallowed up by the black man's. He was also the darkest black man Stan had ever met. "Mobutu Tanaka, Dr Tanaka." "Where you from Dr Tanaka?" The man had a strong accent. "I am from Kenya. I am Masai." "What brings you to the states?" "I am taking a class at the university on new medical techniques to take home to my people." "Just one class?" "Yes, you would call it a refresher, then I will go home." Stan couldn't help being impressed. This man had bought a house to live in for only three months. He came from money. "Would you like to come in for a burger?" Stan thought Mobutu might be an interesting guy to talk too. "Would you have American hot dog?" "Sure, I can throw some on the grill." "I have not had American hot dog since college." "Wendy, bring me out a couple dogs from the fridge," Stan yelled through an open window. A moment later, Wendy opened the sliding glass door and walked out onto the porch with two hot dogs on a paper plate. Mobutu looked up at the statuesque blonde. "Perfect," he said. "What?" asked Wendy. She wore an attractive business proffessional outfit, short skirt, heels, and jacket. The sunlight made her blue eyes sparkle. "You are magnificent." "Ah... thank you I guess," she said blushing. Stan was frowning, but he quickly shrugged it off and took the hot dogs from his wife. The black man stared at Wendy until she became uncomfortable and returned inside. "Your wife is tall for a white woman." "Yes, she's six feet without the heels." Stan took the food off the grill. "Lets go inside, we have some fixins set up on the table and I will get us some drinks. Would you like a beer?" "No, milk or water please." "Ok...I think we have some milk." "That Big Black Dick Picture Tricia Oaks Cuckold Sessions Tricia Oaks at CuckoldSessions.com Black Dick Pictures the awesome sight. The CaptainÕs shoulders slouched more as he saw his wifeÕs face and neck redden inÑwhat could only be explained asÑarousal. Sambo sat down into the coupleÕs only easy chair, his legs spread wide and his genitals hanging half off the front of the chair. He looked over the thoroughly beaten, white Confederate Captain slouching before him. ÒNow, where is this weekÕs rent?Ó the powerful, black man demanded. ÒWe only have half...Master Beaux,Ó Leasa chimed in, hoping to make it easier on her whipped and humiliated husband. ÒWell, that wonÕt do,Ó black Sambo replied curtly, ÒIt just wonÕt do.Ó ÒHow will you pay the interest if I allow you to pay up in full next week?Ó he asked. ÒHow can we...?Ó Leasa inquired of the commanding, black presence seated before herÑlooking like some sort of African king. ÒMaybe by entertaining me...Ó the Black smirked. Turning to the Captain, Sambo commanded: ÒDrop your pants, boy!Ó The Captain looked at him befuddled...in disbelief at what heÕd heard. ÒDid you hear me, boy? I said drop your trousersÑand do it now!Ó The Captain froze. He looked over at his wife, almost pleadingly. Leasa Edwards averted her eyes to the floor, ashamed and embarrassed for her impotentÑand now patheticÑhusband. ÒIf I have to get up, boy...I swear, I will beat you within an inch of your life, and then take you out in the street and use my belt to whip your white ass in front of all your neighbors. You want that? A whippinÕ by a black manÑgiven to a Confederate officerÑfor the whole community to see? The newspapers will probably print it up too. Hell boy, youÕll be famous.Ó Silent, tense moments passed slowly in the room. ÒOne...two...Ó Sambo began counting, his impatience and anger mounting audibly. Then it happened. Captain Beauragard slowly began to unbutton his pants. In a moment they were undone. He glanced over to his wife, Black Dick Stories Tricia Oaks Cuckold Sessions Black Cock Thumbs given her more pleasure than she had ever experienced in her life. She knew she would want himÑeven, need himÑagain and again. Sambo finally broke free the lust stricken blondeÕs grasp and rose from the bed. He smirked down at the Captain slouched in the chair beside the bed. The ex-slave then pulled the Confederate flag out from under the CaptainÕs wife, observed the huge wet stains from both his and LeasaÕs sexual secretions, and, again, threw the flag into the CaptainÕs face. Captain Beauragard breathed deep the musk of his wifeÕs and the BlackÕs sexing. This time, rather than disgusting him, he found it deeply erotic. The Captain was ashamed to find his tiny pecker coming to life again. He tried to hide it with the flag... Sambo saw the CaptainÕs response to his wifeÕs being bred right in front of his eyes. Jonathan BeauragardÕs hands and lap were sticky with his own discharge...and his little pecker was standing stiff again at the scent of his wifeÕs conquest and seeding by the stronger, superior black man. ÒJohnny boy, why donÕt you button up and run along downstairs. WhatÕs happening in this room is foÕ adults only,Ó Sambo advised. At this admonishment, Captain Beauragard quickly pulled up his pants, fumbling with the buttons of his fly, and stumbled to the door. As he left, Leasa could see the disheveled, shell-shocked Confederate fleeing out the door...his fly mis-buttoned, with the buttons all out of sequence in his haste. Captain Beauragard was never to be seen again. Leasa Edwards realized now that it wasnÕt Sambo who was the clown. It was the man she married, and all he represented: his ridiculous ÔHonorÕ and obsolete ÔCauseÕ. The southern beauty lay on the bed, her thighs still spread wide, inviting her black lover to take more of herÑif he wanted. And let me know what you ÔwantÕ...please write me if youÕd like the story to continue.. leasa24@hotmail.com .