Fortune

Fortune

Fortune

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This work is copyrighted by the author. All characters involved in sexual activity are eighteen years of age or older at the time of portrayal.

This is the continuation of Life in Peril. Whether it's the end is up to you. Lemme know.

Sex with Charlie changed dramatically after our adventure with Urban Mann and his cohorts. For months my husband had been prevented from having sex with women and found himself the bottom half of all sexual unions with men. Charlie was never gay and still isn't, but was forced into an almost feminine role. And when I say forced, I mean he lived in fear of what Mann and his people would do to both me and him. For me, he was strong. For me, he persevered. And like the loving husband he is, he went along for the ride.

I, on the other hand, was turned into a slut for black cock. Deep down in my mind, I still am. But I am adapting to life with only my husband's average dick to satisfy me. The empathy he gained in acting as the receiver of sex rather than the giver has turned him into a real pussy pleaser.

Charlie learned a lot about sex with women when he was forced to take their place servicing black men on the down low. I now am benefiting from the pain he endured. He even includes big vibrators and a nine-inch black dildo when we play to help me achieve the satisfaction I crave. For the past six months the sex has been fairly straight and mostly satisfying. But there is something lacking. Something Charlie cannotgive me. Something long, thick, and dark, wrapped in manliness. The thing that Urban Mann brought to the table every single time. In spades.

But Urban is no more. I was there when they carted his cold, dead body away. He was a bad dude who had enslaved and sold women as if they were so many pedigree dogs he had raised up to perform up to expectations. And he did a real number on me. Number seventy-five as a matter of fact. That's the number he had tattooed on my vulva along with a spade marking me as one of his concubines. One of his dedicated whores. That's right, a whore. Something I never realized until the end.

And the end was hard, and it was bloody. All of Urban Mann's lieutenants were killed or captured and imprisoned. All except for one. Trey Fortune. He had been preliminarily sentenced to home confinement, wearing an ankle monitor. Trey defeated the ankle monitor and took off. He hasn't been seen or heard from since. He just disappeared.

Trey was not a good man, but he was a great fuck. The Mann organization was built on the acquisition of young women for Urban to enslave, break, and traffic to the highest bidder. Trey was the bait.

Nobody had a way with women like Trey. Six feet tall, mocha skin, bedroom brown eyes and a face that could make a bitch melt. Topped off with an athletic build and a nine-inch cock, Trey was the package. And nobody had a way with married white women like Trey Fortune. Urban was one great fuck, but Trey could take a woman places where Mr. Mann never bothered to venture. And I can't ever remember sucking a tastier dick.

In order for me to satisfy my need for big black cock, Charlie, being the understanding husband and wanting to satisfy me every time, used that black dildo as a finisher at the end of sex. And he knew how to make me howl when he used it. And howl I did. But when he did this, it wasn't Charlie I saw in my mind's eye when I closed my eyes. It was Trey.

Of all the black men I fucked under the command of Urban Mann, it was always Trey who came to mind and stayed there as Charlie plunged that big black thing into my cooch. Charlie never took me to my limit with his weapon. He always brought a knife to a sword-fight. But I didn't complain, and I didn't stray. But I thought about it. Unfortunately, I thought about it a lot. Charlie picked up on it and let me know that he knew.

"Lu, am I not getting the job done? I'm getting a vibe from you that the dildo is not the big black thing you are looking to ride. I'm sorry, but..."

"Charlie, you're fine. We're fine. The last thing I need..."

"Is the first thing you want. I can tell, Lu. I understand if you feel you need a hall pass to satisfy those needs in you that I just can't seem to reach. Maybe you should call your cop friend and see if he might be able to scratch your itch."

"You scratch my itch just fine, Charlie. The vibrator and dildo reach where no man can go. You're good, Charlie. They just make you better. That you are willing to use them during our sex play speaks highly of you as a man. I'm proud of you that you can reach outside of yourself to please me."

"I just don't want to lose you, Lu. I think I've proven that in spades. No pun intended."

"You have, my darling husband, and I'll never forget it."

It was Saturday morning, and our conversation led to me sucking Charlie's dick and finishing him in the cowgirl position. Unfortunately, like so many other times, he finished, but I didn't. Being the sensitive soul he is, that's when the dildo came out. And the big magic wand vibrator I call 'Sir Cumsalot.' God bless technology.

After screaming, shouting and a whole lot of horizontal dancing, I exploded into my third orgasm of the morning. And it was a big one. Fuck those big black cocks, and thank goodness for technology. If that's what it takes to keep my marriage together, so be it.

"Let's go get cleaned up and get some brunch. I'm not feeling like cooking, and after some great satisfying sex with my man I'm hungry. Famished."

"Thank you for saying that, Lu. Maybe we should take the vibe with us. He did most of the heavy lifting today."

"Stop diminishing yourself, Charlie. Without you, there is no love, and that's what makes the sex great. And you still eat a mean pussy."

We jumped into the shower together and got each other's backs, and a little bit of our fronts as well. The only thing I hated about showering with Charlie is that tramp stamp of his. The one that said, "Lu's Cuck." As I had over the past six months, I commented on it.

"Charlie, are you ever going to get this tattoo removed?"

"Yes, when it is no longer true."

"But Charlie, our Master is gone, and you are no longer a cuck to black men."

"Oh yeah, I'm still a cuckold to that black dildo of yours. Until I can truly satisfy you, I'll always be a cuck."

"Then I will stop using the dildo. Or maybe I'll get a pink one. I want you to feel like the man you are."

"I'll never be the man I used to be, Lu. That ship has sailed."

"You are very much the man you used to be and more. Your experiences have made you a better lover, and I've never been happier with you."

"And you are a terrible liar. I can tell what you need, and I just can't give it to you. Not even close without the toys. We can make this work, Lu. But more so if you take a lover. A big black one."

"After all we've been through do you really think that's a solution?"

"There are certainly better men than Urban Mann and his ilk. Not every black man with a big dick is a sex trafficker. I'm giving you the opportunity to have your cake and eat it too. Why won't you take it?"

"Because I know where it leads and I don't want to go there anymore. If I'm going to be a slave to sex, I want it to be as your slave. Don't be my cuck, Charlie, be my master."

"I appreciate the gesture, Lu, but I could never do that. I don't feel that reclaiming my alpha status is something I am able to do. I'm just happy being your cuck."

"Does that mean you want the cock cage back on that pecker of yours?"

"Hell, no. That's the one thing I never want anymore. Next time I'll kill someone before they try to do it, not after they have."

"Now that's a man talking. That'smyman."

The weekend went well, with lots of sex. Celebrating Charlie's rebranding as a real man, a man I could look up to, was complete. Except he still needed a big vibrator and the black dildo to get me off. And he still felt the lesser for it.

On Monday morning, once I'd parked at the work lot, I was met by a couple. A white couple who introduced themselves as Tori and Hank Clift. She had a necklace on with a spade hanging from it with a 'U' in the center, identifying her as one of Urban's girls. She also had a ring tattooed on the ring finger of her left hand. I immediately wondered what her number was.

They each grabbed me by an arm and, on the girl's side, I felt a prick on my wrist and almost immediately felt faint. They hauled me over to their car, and I found myself tossed onto the back seat as I faded away into darkness. I never made it to the office.

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When I awoke, I found myself sitting in a Lazy-Boy recliner looking up at a black man. A very handsome black man. It was Trey Fortune, in the flesh. It took my eyes a moment to adjust, but it was him. Wearing a big, broad smile and looking good enough to eat. But that is not where my head was at.

"Trey. Where are we? I figured you would be in Mexico by now, or Europe. Are we still in town? What time is it? How the..."

"Relax, little lady. We're in a safe space."

"Safe for whom?"

"Don't you worry, little mama. If it's safe for me, it's safe for all of us. The Clifts were kind enough to take me in. To take us in."

"And what of me? I have to let work know I'm not making it in today. A little late, but better late than never. If they wonder where I am and contact Charlie he's gonna be gunning for you."

"Please. Everyone thinks I'm long gone. They've got Interpol looking for me, for Christ's sake."

"I guess it's good that there are still some folks out here loyal to Urban. What number are you, Tori?"

"I'm number sixty-one. And I miss my Master."

"Me too, sometimes. But I'm living the straight life now with Charlie, and better for it. I don't want to be whoring and I don't want to be on the run." Tori blushed, but Trey kept going.

"I need your help, Lu. Right up to the end, you were Urb's bottom bitch. He woulda..."

"I thought Maggie was Master's bottom bitch for life."

"Nah, she was just the first, and the one he couldn't let go of."

"Isn't that what a bottom bitch is? And where did numbers two through fifty go? I've never met a gal under sixty."

"That's 'cause they retire with Urban's blessings and with his support. Generally they are far better off than when they arrived."

I knew I was putting myself in harm's way by carrying this conversation any further. I took his answer at face value and moved on to the important stuff. Me.

"Now that you've kidnaped me and won't let me contact work, what is it you want with me. What do you think I can do?"

"It's the cops, Lu. I don't know how close they are to me and where they are looking. I've already had two close calls with some of our former associates, but I'm still out here cattin' around. You've got connections, Lu. They've helped us in the past, maybe they can help me now."

He should only know that those connections are why Urban Mann and his people are either dead or locked up and why he is on the run.

"I haven't spoken to those people in six months. I'm supposed to call out of the blue and ask what they know about Trey Fortune? Pretty suspicious."

"Aren't you sleepin' with the guy? I just figured that's where you was gettin' your fix."

"My fix? Like I'm addicted to big black cocks?"

"I never met a white woman more addicted to it than you. I'd be surprised if you were satisfied with just one at a time. You a lover, girl. Not a fighter."

"Don't be so sure. Charlie's doing a fine job of it, lately."

"Ha, ha, ha. I'm sure he's trying as hard as he can. Tell me you never finish without something to help. Dildo, vibrator, Rabbit? I can see it on your face. Frustrated, Lu? What did you say, six months. Is that how long it's been?"

"Yes. And quite frankly, I can do without it."

"Once you've had it, you can't never do without it. It becomes second nature. Sooner or later you'll find some man you're drawn to, and it will be like an unshakeable force. You won't be able to stop yourself."

He was right. I could feel myself shaking already. In the past six months, I had hardly ever been in the presence of a black man who was either attractive or available. But here was Trey, the one man I fuck in my dreams. The man I see when my husband plunges a fake nine-inch black cock into me and brings me to orgasm. And here he is, live and in person. With absolutely no question in his mind that I would fuck him.

"Come to me, little one. Give your Trey a big hug and kiss."

And I did. The forty-five tucked into his pants acted as extra incentive to accept his invitation.

When I approached him, he threw his arms around me. When I looked up at him, he bent down and gave me one of his world-class kisses with those big luscious lips of his. Having a bald pussy, it doesn't take long until you feel how wet your panties are getting. And Trey knows all the buttons to push. It's what he knows best. That's why he and Elmo were the bait that brought all that young, eager pussy into Urban Mann's realm.

After the kiss, and he knew that he had me, he let me call work. I gave them the excuse that my car broke down and I would be back in work tomorrow. They bought it easily. I just hoped they wouldn't see my car in the parking lot. Trey then took the phone from me, turned it all the way off and placed it into my handbag.

Then Trey took my hand and led me upstairs to the bedroom. This was not one of the more opulent houses but a small suburban home, with a beautiful kitchen. He led me to what was obviously the master bedroom.

In my mind, I was battling. Do I want this? Do I want to be the cheating wife again? Do I really need a fix of big black cock? What will this do to Charlie and to our marriage? Then I thought, what if I don't do it? What will Trey dotome. I decided that that was not an option. It would have to be the time for me to lay back and enjoy the handiwork of a master.

I was in my work clothes, so I wasn't looking particularly sexy, but I was starting to feel it. I had taken to wearing sexy undies for Charlie as a gift to him for being such a good and loving husband. For having endured so much at my hand. But now Trey, who was making the bottoms wet, would take the tops off.

But it started with more kissing. And Trey was the master kisser. Once a woman tasted those lips, she was his. Lock, stock and booty. He kissed up and down my neck as he unbuttoned my burgundy satin blouse and unsnapped my lacey black bra. I'd already unzipped my calf length skirt and it pooled on the floor, under me. My blouse and bra followed it.

As he pulled his polo shirt up and over his head, I attended to the snap and zipper on his jeans. I then pulled his pants and boxers down his legs and followed them down, landing on my knees. His magnificent cock just stood there, not nearly erect, but not quite soft. More than a match for my black dildo back home. And you know me. The more the merrier.

I immediately grasped the tool and stuck its head in my mouth. A quick fit, but my tongue would more than compensate for my inability to get much of it down my throat. I pushed him back on the bed, and he lay there while I administered to the object of my desire. As I licked and sucked, I managed to pull my panties down my legs and off. I threw them at his face to see what reaction I got.

He brought the panties up to his nose and breathed in deeply. "Ah, nothin' like white pussy. Why don't you bring it up here to a sixty-nine, and you and I can enjoy a little of this together. I'd like to drink from the source."

He didn't have to ask me twice. In a heartbeat I was up and over his face with my now hungry pussy ready for a tongue I have ridden before. A very talented tongue.

He found me wet and made me wetter. Between his tongue on my clit and his fingers massaging my G-spot, I was on my way to becoming a soaking wet mess. And I kept fondling and sucking that big old dick of his. Making a wet mess of my own.

But I had to stop sucking and concentrate on the overwhelming orgasm I was approaching. And he didn't let me down. I came so hard I think I did it twice. And that's just the preliminaries. But the big gun is coming. With that in mind, he lifted me up off of him and threw me down on the bed. Time for a good thumping.

And thump he did. He slid in quite easily and started with nice easy strokes to keep his mojo going and get me into a rhythm. Then he went to town. Not the desperate fumbling of a man who hadn't had his share of sex lately, but a man who'd kept tuned up and in it for the long haul. He all but pounded me into that bed. But without objection from me. For a solid ten minutes he gave me a fucking like I hadn't had since the last time Urban Mann stuck his dick in me. With Trey, though, there is no other man to think about. Noone else in my mind's eye. When I fuck Trey, it's with both eyes open and fully engaged.

After ten minutes of fast, hard fucking, Trey slowed down and turned our fuckfest into a lovemaking session. We kissed a lot and slowly made the kind of love that women just can't get enough of. But when I'd had enough, I let him know.

"Alright, Trey. Enough already. Fuck me till I come like a cannon." And he did and so did I. I hadn't come like that in over half a year. It was a true delight. Was it my fix? Oh, yeah. Was it enough? Hell no!

As soon as the euphoria faded, I was in a panic. What the fuck am I doing? I'm here getting fucked by a man who just kidnaped me. A man who is a wanted fugitive everywhere in the Americas and on the continent. Make no mistake, Trey was a very bad man. And I just fucked him like he was a king. Just what any Queen of Spades would do.

As we took a break and made a little pillow talk. You know, where ya been, whatcha been up to? That kind of thing. We stared out the window at a very nice suburban neighborhood, and I watched as my car pulled up into their driveway. Tori was driving. They went and fetched my car, while we were getting it on. Now, nobody at work will question what my car was doing in the lot.

Like Charlie and I, the Clifts were childless. They also had one magnificent kitchen, courtesy of Urban Mann's wrecking crew. Boy, do I know what that kitchen cost them. Their souls. And, apparently, still loyal and in service to Trey. They are breaking several laws, including harboring a fugitive from justice and kidnaping. Me, that is. Although I never remember meeting them it is always possible they had attended one of Urban's orgies. Even after their master's death, they clung to his legacy, seemingly having nothing else to hold on to in life.

She was number sixty-one, so she'd had to have been serving him for at least five years or more. Maybe as many as ten. I don't really know the statistics or the data. That would be Mort Humphrey's territory. But Trey would know. And so would they.

As Hank's car pulled into the driveway, and he got out with packages in hand, we cleaned ourselves up and got dressed. You could smell the aroma of an Italian restaurant when we arrived downstairs. Hank picked up some lasagna and baked rigatoni with meatballs from the Ninth Street Marketplace, an Italian deli and pizzeria in the neighborhood. It was a satellite store of the main shop downtown.

The four of us sat and ate and discussed how we all know each other. Tori and Hank had the same remodeling job that we had done, by the same contractor. And they got roped in the same way we did. For them, it had been seven years. Seven years of total servitude to Urban Mann and his cronies. Hank managed through it all, to keep his job. But for visible reasons, Tori lost hers as a teacher. Now she turns the occasional trick to bring in a few bucks. Clients from the old days, when Urban was around to collect.