For the first time in many months, Giselle felt happy and fulfilled. She sat back and gazed at her black lover’s penis, soft and wilting after she had sucked every drop of semen out of it. She thought back over the events of the last few weeks; how miserable she had been because of her husband’s sexual inadequacy, and how her friend Becca had suggested she take an African lover. Then how Becca had arranged for her to meet just such a man: Mobu, a black stud with an enormous cock and an insatiable appetite for white women.

She smiled as she remembered the events of the previous night: how she and Mobu had fucked several times; how she had sucked on and worshiped his magnificent sexual organ; how she had swallowed his cum; how he had made her feel like a real woman at last.

Having thus drained Mobu’s cock, Giselle began to wonder if it was perhaps time for the rest of her breakfast. But she could not drag herself away from her lover quite yet, even though Mobu’s testicles appeared to be completely drained, not even a drop left inside, so thoroughly had Giselle milked his member. She was proud at her success in sucking the very soul out of her African lover, and that knowledge made her wonderfully fulfilled and self-confident.

When she saw Mobu’s glans completely deflated, lifeless and purple, she felt like a goddess who has satisfied her black Adonis, and smiled proudly in satisfaction.

“Why do you smile, woman?” asked Mobu.

“I smile because I am so proud to have left your Royal Python Head so spent and flaccid,” explained Giselle. “It makes me feel as if I have sucked the entire life out of my African mate.”

“Well girl for sure you did, damn you, you devil of a woman. Just look at it now!”

“Indeed, Mobu, I can see how lifeless it is now, how soft and impotent, just because I have sucked it dry. But please forgive me, I only wanted you to remember these moments and I just wanted you to think well of this white girl compared to the other white girls you have conquered with your virility.”

“And you know what Giselle, for sure you accomplished your task!” Mobu replied. “Believe me, beautiful white lady, rarely have I felt so spent and depleted after sex. Truly, I do feel as if you sucked my soul out of me.” For a black man who prided himself on his virility, it was hard for Mobu to admit that a white woman had drained him so totally.

Giselle saw how this pained him, so she wanted to make him feel better about himself. “Do not worry, my African warrior,” she replied. “I just wanted to honour your virility and masculinity by trying to extract all your semen from your testicles: I could not bear to think of leaving even a drop in them. I just read about it in a magazine, and wanted to apply this technique to you, my black lover. I am sorry you feel so empty, but at least now you won’t forget how this white girl wanted to demonstrate her concern and care about you.”

Mobu and Giselle stayed kissing and cuddling each other, their tongues entangled, transferring a serious amount of saliva from one mouth to the other.

Giselle realised that she was losing all her moral inhibitions and was totally taken by her African Adonis. Never before in her life had she experienced such wonderful mental and sexual emotions. None of her white lovers had ever given her such sexual bliss; none had transformed her so totally, making her feel as if she was at the very centre of their and her universe. She recalled how she had ended by despising all her white lovers; how she had ended by mocking their failures as sexual partners, by their failure to satisfy her insatiable longings. Most totally, she despised her husband Francisco, who loved and cared for her, sure, but who could not satisfy even the smallest part of her sexual needs. Compared to her African lover, he wasn’t a man at all, just a useless worm, exactly like his flaccid ineffectual penis.

In her mind she saw herself mocking her affectionate but sexually useless husband.

“Ha, Francisco, you pathetic creature, just see how this real man is fucking your wife, how he is truly satisfying her sexual and emotional needs. He is a real man in bed as you have never been and never will be, even if you could get your pathetic worm of a penis erect. It is time for you to accept your sexual inferiority, cope with your frustration and humiliation, and learn to live with it.”

On the one hand, Giselle knew that her thoughts were insensitive and hard-hearted, and that it would be cruel to tell Francisco what she truly thought of him. But on the other, she now felt herself to be a complete and liberated woman. Why should she not put her own satisfaction first for once, she who had for so long felt empty and unfulfilled? Was it her fault that she found herself married to such a feeble specimen?

Giselle, in short, had managed to convince herself that she was doing the right thing for both of them. Why hadn’t Francisco accepted her offer of separation, instead of begging her not to end their marriage? It really was all his fault. 

She put these thoughts to the back of her mind, and turned again to Mobu’s enormous manhood, which was lying across his chest. She picked it up and began to play with it, pulling down his foreskin to uncover his shiny purple glans. However wonderful was his bulbous head, which almost filled the palm of her hand! As she stroked him, she marvelled at the way a steady stream of pre-ejaculatory fluid began to leak out from his meatus, forming a sticky pool in her palm. She could not resist stimulating with her index finger the area of Mobu’s frenulum where it connected with the meatus. To her shock, and then delight, this bold manoeuvre caused Mobu’s cock to jerk like a striking snake, and a great squirt of pre-ejaculatory liquid shot out and onto her arm. She had seen some men who ejaculated less semen than this when they orgasmed, but this was just Mobu’s pre-ejaculatory liquid!

As Giselle played with his member, Mobu was twitching and writhing. “Oh you white woman, what are you doing to me? You had drained me, but now I feel my testicles must be filling up with semen yet again. Will you force me to ejaculate yet again?”

“We will see, Mobu, we will see!” smiled Giselle. “Your African semen is mine, all mine, and you are going to have to satisfy my needs by giving it all to me, every tiny drop, no matter how hard I have to suck to swallow it all. I am in charge of your Royal Python now. The one thing that bothers me is that your foreskin covers your delightful cock-head, even when you’re erect. I’d much rather see it uncovered.”

“I’m sorry,” apologised Mobu, “but it just happens like that. Whenever I pull down the prepuce, it soon pops up again.”

“Let your white enchantress see what she can do,” mused Giselle. Then she had an idea. She went to the bathroom and came back with something in her hands. It was nutritional cream lotion that her friend Becca used for moistening her body.

“Come here, my Black Python,” she smiled, “let us see what this mistress can do.” She squeezed an abundant amount of cream first onto her hands and then, holding Mobu’s penis with one hand, squeezed fat drops of cream onto the head and foreskin. Then she began to rub the creamy lotion not only onto Mobu’s bulbous cockhead but also over his shaft where the foreskin had been rolled down.

Very soon the nicely creamed and lubricated foreskin was so relaxed that it no longer kept rolling up over the smooth knob-head. This was exactly what Giselle wanted, and she kissed the smooth head with a smile.

“Well, my African boy, now I can enjoy the smooth mushroom head properly,” she joked. “It has lost its Royal Hat - what a pity - it will be in my full view from now on”.

Giselle took a napkin and wiped the excess cream from Mobu’s huge glans so she could start sucking his most sensitive organ. She grabbed with both hands his huge penis and started to bombard the bulbous head with soft and loud kisses, alternating them with licking round the rim, paying special attention to the sensitive frenulum.

“Here we are, my Royal Black Python,” she murmured, “your Snake Enchantress accepts your challenge and she will not give you any truce until she has fully subdued you again, you wicked beast.”

Mobu could not help moaning as Giselle played her magic tricks with his organ, which was now fully erect again. “Oh, my good God, Giselle, what the hell are you doing?” he groaned.

“You will see, my African boy, you will see. Now I want you to just lie on your back and relax a bit,” instructed Giselle.

Although he was not used to being told what to do by a white woman, Mobu did as she instructed. Giselle then began to play with his cock and ball-sack. She was surprised to feel that his testicles were already swelling with a fresh supply of seed. How could that be? She had made him ejaculate at least four times that night, and he was still not drained dry!

“Mobu, this is unbelievable,” mused Giselle, cradling his big black bollocks in her delicate white hands. “How on earth are you still storing semen in your testicles? It really seems like a kind of witchcraft. I just cannot figure out how you can refill those sacks in such a fast way. Maybe you follow a special diet?”

Mobu laughed. “Look, my white friend, you have to accept that I am an African man, not a spineless guy like your useless-in-bed husband. You are just surprised because in all these years you did not meet an African stud yet.”

Suddenly, he hesitated, worried that he might have gone too far by describing Giselle’s husband as useless, even if it was true.

“I apologize,” he said, “Maybe I should not have used those words to describe your husband.”

“Do not apologize,” laughed Giselle. “I can understand why you said that. Do not worry, I know that it is the African way to want to conquer and control white married women. It is your fate, just as it is my fate to be conquered. And how happy I am to be conquered, to give myself body and soul to you.”

Thus had Giselle rationalised her situation to herself. If it was her fate, then what was the point in resisting? She was losing all her moral inhibitions, and this state of spiritual well-being made her forget her marriage vows and even her own husband! In this moment she was feeling for the first time in her life truly satisfied as a woman, and also morally she felt absolutely free of culpability. Instead, she was proud to have taken back her life, her destiny, and her womanly essence!

As she spoke, Giselle kept addressing Mobu’s mushroom-like cock-head with slow and sensual motions of her hands. She was holding it with both her delicate white hands like an enchantress controlling a huge black Python, showing no fear at all but only admiration. She felt radiant and triumphant at having deprived that huge specimen of penis of its protective coat, and looked at it like a hunter admiring her prey.

She felt absolutely in control with that huge black penis in her hands and felt an increasing pleasure in tormenting it by squeezing and pulling at it. Her pleasure was greatly increasing by hearing Mobu’s moans and pants, showing how much her African friend was loving her treatment. Also she loved the fact that her African mate had so far coped with her tormenting treatment without ejaculating. She attributed it to the fact that he had already ejaculated at least four times already.

Giselle decided it was time to stop playing around with Mobu’s penis, and let him penetrate and screw her again. So she again put a condom over his erection just by using her mouth, unrolling it and placing it over his huge black pole. Then he lay on his back as she mounted and rode him as she had done the previous times, enjoying the feel of his massive pole inside her willing hole, once again satisfied as a woman due to her African lover. Her tits jiggled and swung as she happily bounced up and down.

As she rode up and down on his black pole, Mobu teased her by asking her, ““What about your husband, Giselle? What would you tell him right now?”

Giselle was in second heaven as Mobu’s glorious prick filled her, the wide helmet rubbing against her vaginal walls with every thrust. “My useless husband? Oh, I’d tell him to watch as his wife is fucked into total pleasure by her virile African lover, who is giving her the pleasure that he never could. I’d tell him to put up or shut up, the pathetic worm!”

Mobu loved to hear Giselle abuse her husband like this, especially when she was praising him at the same time. It excited him so much that he began to fuck her even harder, grunting as he banged his massive pole against her cervix. He knew that she had never been fucked like this before by any man, especially not a powerful black man like himself. He felt it was his moral duty to exert his superiority over every white woman, and fucking them was his way of doing it.

If at the beginning the African man had maybe felt some slight qualms about the extent to which he was humiliating Francesco, now he felt exhilarated and convinced that it was his destiny to do it. Giselle was not some bubble-headed bimbo who would fuck any men they could; she was beautiful, elegant, well-educated and intelligent; the sort of woman who sometimes looked down on Mobu because of his race and colour. By making her his sexual slave, he was extracting revenge for the centuries of abuse his nation had suffered from white men. He would fill Giselle with his black man’s seed, and conquer her totally.

But Mobu did not just want to master her sexually; he wanted to establish a serious relationship with her. He knew that it would require hard work and commitment on his part, but it would be worth it. Of course, he knew that this would destroy her marriage, but that was of no concern to him. He despised Francesco for not releasing Giselle from their frigid relationship, even if she did claim that she did not hate him for his inability to satisfy her. Mobu knew that, as a prime specimen of the African race, he was the appropriate man to satiate that young and beautiful American woman. He would swoop into her life, take her, fuck her, satiate her sexual starvation, with absolutely no concern about her husband, who was destined to capitulate and be left right out of the picture.

These thoughts and the whole challenge excited the African man very much, who in the meantime had the great piece of white womanhood who was frantically riding him, bouncing up and down on his black cock, yelling and moaning during that royal fucking.

“Oh, fuck me harder, fuck me deeper,” she cried, “Please don’t stop! I need to be screwed by a real man, by a magnificent specimen of the African race!”

Mobu sensed that his white mate was reaching her climax, so he kept pounding and hammering Giselle up and down, holding her hips and helping to pound his huge organ roughly in and out of her. They were fucking like two animals, it was as if they were not humans anymore, they only uttered grunts and guttural sounds.

Mobu heard Giselle yelling frantically, and realized she was having her climax. She was like a priestess possessed by a potent spirit. He could hear her yelling “Yes oh yes, do it to me, I can feel it, I can feel that wonderful cock of yours, fuck me please, I am feeling so fucking good”.

That last word she screamed out as her voluptuous body trembled and shook, her climax thrilling through her body as if she were possessed by a demon. Then Mobu realized that he was coming as well, and he released his powerful spurts of semen, filling the condom to the brim. His orgasm was so intense that he almost lost consciousness again, and as it subsided he felt spent and exhausted in a manner he rarely experienced. Giselle was a hell of a woman.

For while they lay together, cuddling and hugging, Giselle with her pale white body entwined with his dark black one, the colours of their skins so different yet looking so good together. Mobu’s cock was still inside Giselle’s cunt, and he suddenly worried that the weight of the semen that it contained might cause it to slip off inside her. So he withdrew his massive penis and carefully removed the heavy condom, making sure all his semen remained inside.

He was about to discard it, but then he remembered how much Giselle had previously enjoyed swallowing his thick white emission. He held out the full sac and swung it in front of her, teasing her and saying, “I know, my white lover, how much you enjoy the taste of my Negro cum, the essence of my African soul. Once again It can be yours, but there is one condition. You must swear to me and give me your word that if I let you have it, you will never again swallow even a single drop of semen that comes from the penis of your miserable husband. Once you have swallowed an African’s soul, no other can ever pass down your white throat. Do you swear?”

Giselle broke into a loud laugh and answered, “My African boy, how can you doubt it? Of course I will swear to that. Even previously, I have only swallowed his thin insipid liquid a few times, but it was like flavourless skimmed milk compared to the full-fat cream of my African prince.”

Mobu then gave to her the heavy condom full of a huge amount of semen, and as she had done before she raised with one hand the upper end and held the open end over her open mouth. Then she tipped it up, and let the contents flood into her mouth.

Mobu watched her with pride and amazement.

“My God Giselle,” he shot out, “you are such a hot and hungry woman. What would your husband say if he could see you now?”

What they could not have known was that Francesco, having spent the night tossing and turning in his lonely bed, his dreams filled with images of his wife being fucked by endless African men with enormous throbbing organs, had crept back to the room with the camera and switched it on again, just in time to see Giselle lowering herself onto Mobu’s erect cock. He was devastated at the sight of his wife swallowing her African lover’s cum, but also aroused after watching her ride her lover with such joyful abandonment. He had so little self-respect left that he was content to take out his small penis, which even when erect was smaller than Mobu’s flaccid organ, and masturbated furiously as he watched the last drops of Mobu’s semen fall from the condom into his wife’s welcoming mouth.

“Oh Giselle,” he moaned, as he pumped his tiny organ and ejaculated a few pathetic spurts of thin emission onto the parquet floor.

He did not realise that Becca had been standing in the door, watching him playing with himself. She did feel some small twinge of pity for him, but mostly disgust at his pathetic willingness to give up his wife so easily, forgetting for a moment that it was at least partly a result of her scheming. And now she was cross that he had let his feeble emission go all over her expensive parquet flooring. 

“Francesco, what the hell are you doing?” she yelled. “Are you crazy? You are just masturbating onto my floor! You are such a pervert, you miserable man. You have been watching your wife having sex with another man and all you can do about it is get your feeble dick out to masturbate and then ejaculate on my parquet! It is unfair and disgusting! You poor and miserable man.”

Francesco was of course tremendously embarrassed to have been caught out like this. He couldn’t even deny the truth of what Becca had said. He tried to apologize and offered to clean up his mess. He was like a child being strictly and sharply reprimanded by his mother. But the more he mumbled his apologies, the more Becca railed at him, happy to undermine and sap his male ego.

“No more words Francesco, please stop apologizing. I just cannot believe my eyes, how could you do it? Have you lost all your self-esteem and male pride? Another man – and a black man at that – just screwed your wife and you did what? You masturbated in front of the screen and ejaculated onto my parquet! Thank goodness you are so hopeless that you only left a tiny dribble. You know what, Francesco? You are simply an impotent loser, and you know it. Giselle deserved a better lover, and I am happy she found him.”

Francesco looked so broken that Becca almost felt sorry for him. But she hardened her heart and decided that the best thing to do was to break him once and for all.

“You feeble apology for a man,” she scoffed. “I want you to clean up that mess on my floor right now. And I want you to get down on your hands and knees and lick it up with your tongue.”

For a moment she thought she’d gone too far. But Francesco just looked at her, and to her amazement and delight he sank down on his hands and knees, bent right over and began to lick up his own feeble ejaculations off Becca’s high-quality parquet.

“Yes, that’s it,” she railed with a laugh. “Keep licking, I want every drop to be cleaned up. You’re only fit to lick up your own filthy mess. Now swallow it properly, and don’t do it again.”

As he licked up the meagre splatterings of his cooling blobs of semen, Francesco felt his humiliation could go no lower. What man could bear a situation where his wife was receiving sexual satisfaction from her black lover, leaving him a pathetic, useless apology for a husband? He swallowed his semen with a grimace of disgust at his own abject weakness.