Blue Jenkins worked as a field hand on Hank Leone's farm in Northeast Louisiana. He was a slave. Now in his late-twenties, Blue had been purchased from the Jenkins Farm for a nominal sum two decades back and retained the Jenkins' family name. Blue was tall, muscular, possessed of a pleasing cinnamon complexion, a dazzling smile and a square jaw. He had a hairy breast; his head was shaved bald. In deference to his complexion, Blue's friends called him "Red".

Except for his golden mien, Blue looked a lot like Charlie Leone, the nineteen-year-old cock-of-the-walk on Nathan Leone's farm. Unbeknownst to both, Blue was Charlie's older half brother, the product of a tryst between their father Meshach Leone and Dora Jenkins, a biracial slave, some years back. Meshach never really knew his eldest son. He never had any hand in raising him, though the boy grew up five farms away. He'd seen Blue once or twice over the years. Those occasions meant little. Blue wouldn't know Meshach from a rock in the sea.

Nevertheless, Blue did inherit something of value from his father—a monster cock. This, along with his gallant good looks and his badboy smile, made the cinnamon-hued young man a much-desired commodity. Blue's haul of pubic scalps was double that of his younger half-brother. More, his harem stretched across several farms in the area and included a number of middle-aged white church matrons.

Janice Leone, Hank Leone's crimson haired eldest daughter—recently turned eighteen, noticed Blue working around their farm before but paid him scant attention.

"He IS a slave, after all."

She'd even seen him naked once as he was washing up after a workday. His cock was huge, his bulging musculature equally as impressive. Jannie had been chatting with a gaggle of black girls who chirped and giggled at the vision of Blue's nakedness. Blue noticed the girls ogling him and turned so that they all could get a full on glance at his lumbering member. He wasn't ashamed of it. He reckoned most of these girls were going to see it up close one day, anyway.

Janice recalled that hot afternoon. She remembered being amused by the reaction of the black girls to Blue's nakedness. They were falling all over themselves!! For a slave!! Who would have thought it?

In light of recent events, however, Blue seemed to be the answer to her prayers. Since her recent visit to Uncle Nathan's farm (where she had her first encounter with a black man's dick), Jannie had become afflicted with the "taint"—that wild, seething, unseemly lust white women get for the lumbering penises of unwashed slaves. She was tired of walking around with this unquenched burn in her crotch. Masturbation didn't cool the fires. Neither did her brother Jake's tempestuous but quick late night excursions. And now here, this good-looking, bald-headed slave was walking around all day with an un-fucked elephant trunk percolating in his pantaloons?

"Good-looking"? Did she actually just say that about a black slave?

It was undeniable. Blue was a looker. Too, she'd referred to him as "un-fucked". This was true in one respect. Whilst Blue HAD fucked just about all the women on that farm, he hadn't fucked Janice.

"Well, that's about to change." Jannie noted with grim determination.

Her logic was unassailable. One, she already had the taint, so one more slave dick couldn't hurt. Two, her Auntie Beth claimed to have the cure, so whatever additional taint she acquired from Blue would be nullified after her auntie came through with the goods. Three, she was horny as shit twenty-four seven. And four, walking around with a goddam wooden ball up her puss just wasn't making it.

Jannie cornered Blue in the root cellar late one afternoon after having given him orders to retrieve some ice potatoes. Prior to that, she'd hidden the ice potatoes so that Blue might spend an inordinate amount of time in the root cellar looking for them, just long enough for onlookers to forget he was in there. Twenty minutes later she followed him in.

Blue noted her silhouette in the doorframe.

"I cain't find 'em, Miss Janice. I've looked everywhere," he offered, in that mewling tone that slaves disingenuously used with whites of the day.

Jannie closed and locked the cellar door behind her. She boldly shed her dress to stand naked before him. Her crimson triangle glowed eerily in the gloom contrasted against her alabaster skin. Her breasts pouted jauntily; her pink nipples were already erect. She exuded the ethereal scent of a woman who has taken a fully naked bath in the pussy of another fully naked woman.

Blue wasn't any newcomer to The Game. Women cornered him alone more than just occasionally. He was neither surprised nor perplexed by Jannie's actions. She knew them damn ice potatoes weren't in there when she'd sent him in. Blue dropped the slave mewl tone.

"She just tryna be slick."

He turned to face her, saying nothing. His level gaze bespoke his true masculinity.

"Well?" she said aloud.

Confidently, Blue unbuckled his trousers and dropped them. His lengthy penis did, in fact, resemble an elephant's trunk. It rolled outward from his pelvis like an archer's bow and arced forward in a curved line such that his cockhead curled under perfectly to laze between his thighs, just inches above his knees.

Blue crossed his arms. His penis swung back and forth like a clock pendulum. The burly black man made no move to approach her.

Jannie curled her small fist into a standard male masturbatory pose and jerked it back and forth in front of her fire apple pussy. Her tits wobbled. She was ordering him to initiate his own erection. With a knowing smirk, Blue willingly complied. In seconds, his dick rose up from its flaccidity to become a steely, uncircumcised golden beast, raging for succor.

Jannie was amazed.

"Now THAT's a DICK," she mused.

Indeed, the cock preening before her exceeded any she'd encountered previously. She couldn't grip it with one hand. She doubted that she could grip it entirely with two.

Jannie moved forward as if in a trance, fixated on Blue's transcendently spiring dick. It seemed to suck all the oxygen from the room. She could feel pulsing pressure waves from it, seething hot, throbbing with virility. She could smell its manly, musky scent in her bones.

A tremor escaped her pussy and melted away into fuck vapor.

When she'd halved the distance between them, Janice suddenly rushed forward, pushed him back and slammed him against the wall. She gave a little hop, felt his thickness probing past her feathery pubic jungle, felt it slide up into her fragrant wetness without bothering to take aim. She twirled herself easily around his girth, surprising them both. Blue usually had to work to get it in. So tense was she that, as he tapped her cervix, Jannie climaxed. She gave an agonized silent howl than might have awakened the dead—if she'd seen fit to give voice to her sexual derangement. Such voiceless orgasms were the common currency of interracial sexual liaisons in the South.

She didn't linger about enjoying this early detonation, either. She reckoned it to be the first of many. Jannie began to fuck Blue with the frenzy of the damned. She planned to use his mammoth golden cock to punish the taint that had tormented her so. Huge power shots and quick, flittering trills dominated her assault. She draped her arms about his neck and humped him fiendishly, standing on her tiptoes, grinding her vagina as far down his shaft as she could wetten. She grabbed his head and kissed him square on the mouth, then she latched onto his neck and sucked first one purple hickey then another, all the while quivering her pussy up and down the length of his huge, elephantine penis.

Jannie came again. And then yet again. If Blue's rigid penis hadn't supported her body weight, Janice would have collapsed to the ground in a heap. She was impaled. Her massive clit danced along his sticky, pussy-wettened shaft, sending spiraling jets of electricity coursing throughout her frame.

After her fourth orgasm, Jannie pushed Blue to his knees and fucked his face thru two more climactic cycles. She scrubbed her massive crimson bush about his lips, nostrils and cheeks. Her labia surged and suckled. These kissed the black man fervently, marking Blue's face with Jannie's turgid vaginal aroma.

Still unsated, Janice bent and offered her rounded ass up to him. Blue was amazed to see her fire-apple red pubic curls blazing past her sphincter and up the crack of her ass, each lock sloppy wet with her pussy juice. Undeterred by this great, sticky Jheri curl of pubic fur, he fucked Jannie's asshole dry, agonizing over its heated friction. When he finally erupted his cooling jism caused her bowels to sizzle with the crackle of cold water splashed into a white-hot frying pan. Jannie slumped forward and flopped to the ground—exhausted. Every ganglion in her body shrieked with vibrance.

With some effort, Blue pulled his cock from Jannie's ass. It stretched, thwacked back awkwardly and then wobbled crazily in the cool darkness of the root cellar. Semen dripped from his pee-hole. A silky wisp of steam condensed around his shaft and oozed away silently into the darkness. Riotous explosions of sexual odor assaulted their olfactories, weaving exotic panoramas in their brains.

Jannie's world spun about. The rushing winds of sexual completion assailed her tumultuously. Semen fizzled from her asshole like carbonated soda and dripped to the ground, coagulating into a large, bubbly puddle. Jannie was enshrouded in bliss.

Finally her breathing quieted. She flexed her pelvic muscles to see if the nigger taint intended another flare up.

It gave no indication.

Encouraged, Jannie rose discreetly and dressed. She peeked out the door and, seeing no one, scurried out.

Blue was long gone.

Her opening "Well?" had been the only word spoken between them.