Allie Foster


| Added: 2010-03-23
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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 Melrose Foxxx Cumbang Allie Foster Interracial Pickups Avy Scott Mandingo Author's note: This story takes place in the years between Solomon's escape from the Gilgamesh Project and his rise to crimelord/philanthropist in New York. The Prisoner: Prologue The giant cock jerked in Jane's throat and she felt Solomon's sperm filling her belly. She slid eight inches of his foot long cock out of her mouth, wanting to taste his hot seed on her tongue. The head of his cock was still shooting sperm into her mouth as she looked up at the giant black man that had fucked her so good, she had abandoned her husband for a life of crime. Three months earlier... Jane peeked through the blinds at her husband talking to the black man. Her husband had hired him to paint their house and was explaining what he wanted done. Jane had never seen many black men and never any man as muscular as Solomon. He was a big, hulking brute and she felt a funny feeling in her stomach as she looked at him. Jane avoided the black man for the first couple days, but found herself staring at his bare chest and beefy arms through the curtains of her bedroom window as he stood on a ladder painting her house. Three days into the job, Jane invited him inside for some iced tea on a particularly hot August day. They sat down at the kitchen table and talked. She found Solomon to be very intelligent and his voice seemed to have a hypnotic effect on her as she stared at his sweaty torso. They started having tea breaks together every day and she began opening up to him. His questions began to get personal, but he seemed to know how to get into her head and she answered every question truthfully. Jane told Solomon about how her husband could only get a partial erection and how they only had sex about once a month. Solomon laughed when she said her husband's penis was a nice size at five inches long. Jane excused herself and walked down the hall to the kitchen, passing the bathroom. She rinsed their glasses and headed back towards the porch where they always enjoyed their daily tea breaks. She heard something in the bathroom and looked in as she walked by. Solomon was standing before the toilet urinating. A torrent of urine poured out of the biggest, blackest penis she had ever seen. It was plump and around eight inches long. It was slightly crooked angling down as he peed. "You ever seen a cock this big Jane?" he asked without looking at her. "N-never," she replied staring at it. "Come into the bathroom Jane." Jane couldn't resist his commands and she crossed the threshold, slowly walking up to him, still watching the urine splashing into the toilet. "Why don't you hold it for me Jane?" "N-no, I couldn't," she answered, shocked at the idea. She hadn't even really touched her husband's penis except to squeeze it hard enough to penetrate her, let alone held it while he peed. "Touch it Jane," he said looking deep into her eyes. "Touch a real man's cock for the first time." Jane didn't know why, but she obeyed him. She gulped as she reached out and touched the shaft. She wrapped her fist around the base. He was so thick her fingers didn't touch. His cock was warm to the touch and she could feel the urine flowing underneath the skin. She aimed his cock, directing the pee around the inside of the toilet. He had drank a lot of fluids that day and his stream was strong, but eventually it slackened off to a trickle. When he was done pissing, Solomon said, "Shake it Jane, make sure it's all done." Jane stroked her hand up to the head of his cock, shaking all the urine out. As she stroked, his cock started growing in her hand and she gasped. It was only the second penis she had ever seen and it was more then twice as long Cuckold Chat Allie Foster Interracial Pickups Allie Foster at Black Dick Riders 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 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 Anal Allie Foster Interracial Pickups Cumbang Brown Sugar 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.. .