Summary: 18-year-old white feminist is targeted by black stud.



Note 1: This is an April Fools 2016 contest story... read the whole story to find out why.



Note 2: Thanks to Robert, and Wayne for editing this story.



WARNING: This story is about a white feminist who succumbs to black cock. If that isn't your thing, please stop reading. The story uses sparingly the 'N' word and also uses a few stereotypes that society pretends we have moved past.



The reality is that one of my fantasies is black cock. It's not because I'm racist, it's not even about size... it's about taboo.



Anyways, here is a lengthy story of an 18-year-old freshman feminist who is drawn into a twisted game of sexual submission.



*



So many events and moments in life transpire that lead to a major life changing moment. Each of these small decisions seem inconsequential at the time. (For example, if I hadn't sat beside Brittany the first day of Feminist Studies would everything that eventually occurred have happened?). If I had reacted differently to any one moment, the domino effect could have veered a different way and the major life changing moment may not have come about. Alas, there is no sweet time machine like in Back to the Future, no way to change the past.



That all said, I have always believed that you control your life and are always in control of your decisions. Which is why I only have myself to blame for my current predicament.



But before I get to that...let's start at the beginning.



I grew up with just my Mom, my sperm donor ditching after I was conceived, but before I was released into this wild messed up sexist world. Mom did her best, but was always searching for a man who would love her and, in turn, support her and her daughter.



I can't even begin to keep track of the revolving door of potential step-dads, but I will say they all seemed to be the same (they looked different, had different jobs, but all were not good enough for my Mother). My mom, who was a hard worker, and a dedicated mother, completely lacked self-confidence in herself and her relationships. Thus the vast array of men who entered my life realized this about her quickly and took advantage of her submissive nature. Mom was walked on, hit and verbally assaulted by a variety of despicable men. Mom was a different woman when men were not in her life and thus I resented each man who took her away from me and I resented her for getting so immersed in being someone she was not just to keep a loser of a man and continue to believe the age old fallacy that a woman needed a man to be successful and fulfilled (seriously, with the advancements of sex toys what really was the purpose of men besides procreation? And even the idea of reproducing offspring into today's fucked-up world was questionable at best).



Watching my weak mother try to change for those disgusting men made me resent her and made me resent most men.



This past year, a man named Thor, yes that was his legal name - I checked, had moved in with us and besides checking me out a lot, he was incredibly rude to Mom. I told Mom to get rid of him, but this was her version of a successful relationship. I knew then I had to leave as watching her become a facade of her single self was too hard for me and was killing our relationship.



I was offered a few scholarships and took the one that got me furthest away from the dysfunctional relationship I currently had with my Mother. It was a fresh start and I planned on making the most of it.



Now I should note I am not some eighteen year old prude. I had dated a few boys, slept with some of them, but just couldn't get past whatever flaw I saw in them. Going to college, I decided I was going to focus on my academics and not get caught up in the drama that came with relationships.



Ironically, it was the first class, on the first day, that the first domino was placed and such a trivial one it was.



Even though I had come to the school for a tour and even did my own tour just the day before, I got lost and ended up arriving five minutes late to class.



The professor gave me just the slightest look of annoyance, but I joked, "Sorry, Professor, I got lost and, like a man, I didn't stop for directions."



The class, all women, broke into laughter and the Professor quipped, unable to hold in a smile, "Well, let's keep the 'men' references to a minimum shall we?"



"Of course," I replied, sitting in the only available seat I could find.



Twenty minutes later, the professor gave us five minutes to discuss why we chose this class with an elbow buddy. I turned to the partner on my left and said, "Hi, I am Claudia."



The ridiculously pretty tanned as if she spent her life on the beach, which being in California she may have, replied, "Hi, I am Brittany."



'Of course you are,' I thought to myself; her hair, so white it almost wasn't blonde, only enhancing her beauty, as did her blue as the ocean eyes. I was instantly envious, even though I was not unattractive myself. I was a chestnut brunette, with almost identical chestnut eyes, a look that made me more the girl next door than the head turner that Brittany obviously was.



"You from here?" I asked, already assuming the answer was affirmative based on her tan.



"Like, yes, born and raised," she said, sounding like a valley girl from one of those eighties movies. "How about you?"



"Minnesota," I replied, before joking about my lack of a tan, "As you could guess from my white as snow arms."



She giggled and asked, getting us back on topic, "So like why are you taking this class?"



Even though she talked all bubbly, I instantly liked her and briefly told her my life story. Once I was done my story, she gave me a hug and said, "Well, to new beginnings and new besties."



Although we were from two different worlds, maybe even planets, we clicked and became great friends. We had World Literature together and American History and became two peas in a pod.



Although she was not the brightest crayon in the box, she had a heart of gold and really was the sweetest girl I had ever met. Her infectious personality wore off on me and I became less pessimistic and more of an optimist, although never reaching the world is 'all rainbows and unicorn' universe Brittany lived in.



She helped me with my lack of fashion sense and I helped her with understanding Shakespeare. She had me wearing dresses, the color pink, and had me wearing pantyhose and heels. She was turning me into a girly-girl and it led to me getting a fair amount of attention from the opposite sex (nowhere near as much as Brittany, but enough to boost up my self-esteem immensely), although I kindly rejected the advances, still trying to focus on my schooling.



Everything was going well until Chuck came along. Everyone has met a Chuck before. The kind of frat boy who oozes charm even though his personality is vapid. He was without a doubt the most attractive guy I had ever seen in person and a variety of naughty ideas flooded my head the day I met him, yet as soon as he spoke they faded instantly.



"Hey, babe," he said, so syrupy sweet I thought I may get a cavity. Two words and I knew everything I would ever need to know about him. He was a jock. An insipid jock who was at school on some football scholarship taking up a spot for some kid who actually wanted to get a college education. He was the kind of guy who had women throwing themselves at him and he knew it. The same thing happened to Brittany, but she was so sweet herself that she didn't actually know how attractive she was. Unfortunately, when two different types of sweets meet the result is usually disastrous.



Not surprisingly, Chuck's smug confidence and sexy smile had Brittany hooked in no time.



Did I mention he was also black? As they started dating I couldn't help but think they would make the most beautiful babies in the world. That said, I knew the relationship was doomed. Chuck was not a one girl type of guy; Christ I wasn't even sure he was a one girl per day guy. But I sure couldn't tell Brittany that... all I could do was be there for her when the inevitable break-up happened.



Brittany was glowing a week later, when it was obvious they had had sex.



"He is like the most amazing lover ever," Brittany raved.



"I bet," I said, unable to hide my disdain for him but knowing sweet Brittany wouldn't catch it at all.



"And, like, oh my God, the rumour about black men is true," Brittany said, as she moved her hands apart to imply size.



"He has a big mouth?" I questioned, playing with her.



"Oh he has a long thick tongue," Brittany giggled.



"At least he went down on you," I said, impressed. I had found most men think oral sex is a one way street, which always pissed me off. My only real orgasms from being with a guy came from Joey, who would go down on me for as long as it took for me to come. Since then I have been disappointed over and over, always finishing myself off if I was in the mood once I was back in my bed. Thank God for my magic wand... Like seriously, besides reproduction what purpose did men actually have? That... was the real question that needed to be answered.



"Oh yeah, I came twice before he even fucked me," Brittany said, a little louder than she should have, a couple people glancing over at us.



"Maybe you shouldn't announce that to the other girls here, they may want a piece of him," I said, not really joking as I knew how women thought.



"He's mine," Brittany said, suddenly serious.



Curious, I asked the question I really didn't need to know, "So when you imply big what exactly do you mean?"



"Ten inches," Brittany revealed.



"Bullshit," I said, the biggest I had been with five and a half... Truthfully both my vibrators were bigger than any man I'd allowed in me.



Brittany continued, "And so thick that I couldn't wrap my whole hand around it."



"It's because you're so petite," I joked.



"I could barely take him inside me at first," Brittany said.



"Well, I'm happy you found someone who makes you come," I said, not needing any more details, especially when we were about to start a class on feminism.



"Seven times," Brittany revealed.



"Fuck off," I gasped, having never had multiple orgasms in my life.



"I may have had more but I literally passed out after the seventh," Brittany said.



I laughed, "Well how is he going to top that?"



Before Brittany could respond, our professor began talking about corporate America and the complete lack of respect for women still present in 2016.



I wondered, was it possible I was wrong about Chuck?



After class, Chuck was waiting for Brittany outside the lecture theatre.



"Hey baby," he said, still dripping with the same creepy smug suaveness I had always noticed in him... way too many of my mom's rotating door of men had the similar suaveness that faded the instant Mom was hooked... I'd seen that movie way too many times and was worried I was watching it again with Brittany.



"Hey, baby," Brittany said back, her cheeks going red as she ran and hugged him.



"Hey good looking," he said to me, even as Brittany hugged him.



Nope, I wasn't wrong about him.



"Hey," I replied, keeping my responses to the minimum hoping he would catch on that I wasn't interested in a conversation with him.



He didn't catch on.



"So, Carol," he began.



"It's Claudia," I corrected.



"Right," he nodded, not apologizing or correcting his mistake. "So, do you have a man?"



"It's 2016, I don't need a man," I tersely responded.



"Every woman needs a man, isn't that right, baby?" He said, grabbing her ass.



I sighed. The guy was exactly who I thought he was. A creep. "Yes, without a man I am completely lost," I sarcastically responded.



Catching my sarcasm, unlike sweet Brittany, he agreed, "You would know that was true once you had a real man."



"I see," I smirked. "And what, may I ask, is a real man?"



"One that knows exactly what a woman needs and wants, even if she didn't know it herself," he answered, looking at me smugly, his words clear: I want to fuck you.



"I think I'm doing quite fine on my own," I answered.



"He's just trying to be helpful, Claudia," Brittany said, as her ass continued to be molested by the pervert's big black hand.



"Oh, I know," I nodded, not wanting to turn this into a spectacle. "He is very sweet to care about the needs of his girlfriend's friend," I added, stressing the word 'girlfriend'.



"Just trying to help, sweetheart," he said.



"I think you should reserve the endearing terms for your girlfriend," I advised, before adding, "I need to get to class. I have philosophy and he glares at anyone who is late."



"See you in World Lit," Brittany said.



"Yes, hurry, you wouldn't want to upset a man," Chuck quipped smugly... apparently smarter than I thought as he played on my earlier words.



God, I wanted to slap that smug smile off his face. I also was pissed I had set myself up so easily. I ignored his words as I agreed, "See you in a bit."



"She may be late," he said, even as I turned away, his meaning obvious.



"You're so bad," Brittany giggled, so intoxicated by him she couldn't see the titanic disaster this was going to turn out to be.



I sighed to myself as I headed to class knowing that this relationship was going to be a complete train wreck and likely soon and I would have to be there to pick up the pieces.



Brittany wasn't late for class, but when I saw her I gasped. She definitely had a big gob of cum in her hair. I whispered, "Brittany, you have cum in your hair. A big white gob."



"I do?" she asked, her face going red.



"Yeah, you should likely go to the washroom and clean up," I suggested.



"Thanks," she said, quickly getting up and going to the washroom.



I sighed. There was no way he couldn't have known he shot his wad in her hair. What an asshole. I knew I had to say something, but I wasn't sure what. I had no real evidence he was a smug bastard other than my years of experience and being able to read between the lines of his words.



When she returned, she whispered, "He had me suck him off in the football locker room."



"Brittany, anyone could have walked in on you," I pointed out the obvious.



"I know," Brittany said. "I tried to say no at first, but he was so persuasive, and sexy. I couldn't say no to him."



"How did his cum end up in your hair?" I queried, already knowing the answer.



"He was actually super sweet about it," Brittany said looking so sincere it literally broke my heart.



"He was sweet about coming on your face?" I asked bluntly, trying to point out how ludicrous her words were without actually coming right out and saying it.



"That sounds dirty when you say it that way," she said, before explaining, "he told me that he wanted to mark his territory by coming on me."



"How sweet," I said sardonically.



Missing the obvious sarcasm, she nodded, "I know. It, like, made me feel so special."



"Brittany," I said, "don't you think what he did was a bit sexist?"



"He said you would say that," she answered.



"He did?" I asked.



"Yes, he said you wouldn't understand because you hadn't found a man that could bring you to your knees in love," Brittany said.



"Knees in love?" I questioned, the words so ridiculous that even a gullible naive girl like Brittany should have seen through his pile of bullshit.



"I know, it sounds corny, but it was, like, so sweet," she said, looking so much in love it broke my heart. She so reminded me of my mother and that naive belief that the pathetic loser she were dating was her knight in shining armour.



"At least you didn't have to swallow," I pointed out, always hating swallowing cum... although I had only done it a few times as I hated the gooey feeling of it. The taste didn't bother me usually as it was almost tasteless.



"I did yesterday," Brittany revealed. "Twice."



"TMI!" I said, putting my hands to my ears.



The professor started lecturing and a few minutes in Brittany broke my heart again... saying the words my mother had said about so many guys I wasn't sure I actually believed those words meant anything.



"I think I'm in love," she whispered.



I just nodded as I pondered that those were just words. Love, real love, was an abstract concept that was as rare to find and keep as winning the lottery (actually finding your soulmate was likely more valuable than winning the lottery). Real love was one where both man and woman or man and man or woman and woman or whatever other variation that existed treated each other as true equals.



And this... this wasn't love... infatuation or lust, sure; but love, not even close.



After class, I said, "I need to go to the library and do more research on women's influence in politics," the essay topic I had chosen for both my feminism class and my American history class, although one was on the current political landscape, while my history one was looking at women's roles through history.



"Okay," Brittany nodded. "I think I'm going to take a nap. Last night was a bit of a work out."



"TMI!" I again said.



"We need to get you a man," Brittany said.



"Are those your words or Chuck's?" I asked.



"Mine," she said.



"Well, like I said when we first met, I don't plan to date in college. I want to make honours."



"You can, like, do both," Brittany said, "you're, like, super smart."



"Thanks," I smiled, "but I'd rather focus on one."



"I'm going to find you Mr. Perfect," Brittany said with confidence.



"I met him already," I smiled. "Actually met two."



"You did?" Brittany asked, surprised.



"Yes, my magic wand and my rabbit," I said with a wicked smile.



"You brat," she said, playfully hitting me.



"Go take your nap, I really need to get a couple hours of work in before dinner," I said.



"Yeah, he wants me to come over again tonight," Brittany revealed.



"I'm sure he does," I said.



"You don't like him much, do you?"



"I'm just worried he may hurt you," I said, thankful for the opening.



"You worry too much."



"You don't worry enough."



She shrugged, "You need to live a little."



"After I graduate," I said, before adding, "and become a rich, powerful CEO."



"Then you can choose, like, any man you want," Brittany joked.



"Yeah, I can have my own boy toy," I joked.



I headed to the library and was buried in a book about Eleanor Roosevelt when I saw a shadow hovering over me. Somehow I knew without looking it was Chuck.



"Hey, good looking," he said.



"Shouldn't you be resting for your marathon night with your girlfriend?" I responded, not looking behind me at all.



"Are you jealous?"



I turned around and stood up, not liking having him towering over me like that as I responded sarcastically "Yes, I wish you'd just rip off my clothes right here and fuck me."



"I know you think you are being sarcastic, but the reality is if I pulled my cock out right here you would allow me to do just that," he confidently said.



"Whip it out," I said, not backing down from this smug bastard.



"You don't think I will, do you?"



"You're like most men, all talk no action."



He smiled as he moved his hands to his jeans, unzipped them and to my surprise pulled out his dick. Now I was in a secluded area, I liked not to be bothered when I was researching, but this was pretty ballsy. And I had to admit, his cock was huge and it wasn't even hard. Not wanting to let him know I was impressed, I shrugged, "Good for you, you can whip out your dick to your girlfriend's best friend. Classy!"



He smiled as he stroked it. "Brittany will let me fuck you."



"Does she know this?" I responded, trying to match his smugness.



"Not yet," he admitted. "But she will willingly let me fuck you to keep me."



"You are hilarious," I laughed, trying not to glance down at his dick, even though I was curious how big it really was.

