It’s the eve of the Civil War, and Melanie’s love life sucks, what with her plantation-owning husband away at militia trainings and state’s rights conferences. The house servants are swooning over Big Jim, a black field hand who’s big in every sense.
Soon, Melanie’s corn field trysts are filling her needs—until the Master of Oglethorpe confronts the randy 19-year-old. She confesses, but her contriteness causes more trouble.
“Perhaps one day in the distant future, love between black men and white women will be celebrated,” Melanie mused. “It’s not just his enormous manhood—although, yes, that counts for quite a lot. It’s so many things–his calloused hands, so rough, yet so kind. His muscular shoulders and thighs. His oh-so-manly smell. Big Jim just makes me melt.”
Outrage! Nearly as outrageous as the hot and hilarious ending! [historical erotica, role-playing, MF, BBC, erotic humor, BDSM, interracial]
E-Read Erotica Reviews: A strong recommend for general erotica readers, and those with a penchant for spanking and naughty wives. … An excellent little piece of work here, not only is this researched, it sets the tone wonderfully, keeps moving at a brisk pace, stops for the little details, and knows when to turn up the burner and boil the pot.
Reaching back, she moved her hand tenderly over her reddening ass cheeks. “Observe, dear,” she said, running a fingertip down her crack. “You may have noticed that I have two entrances. When Big Jim first enters me, he uses this one,” she said, delicately separating her wet, swollen labia. She reached back and found her husband’s rod, now fully erect, and pulled it to her ready entrance.
“After a few moments of his incredible thrusting, I can feel his enormous thing swell even larger. That is the signal for me to move forward as he pulls out. Beulah, familiar with this technique, hands me a small jar of lard, which I smear on my, uh, other entrance.”
Her finger moved up, indicating her puckered brown hole. “Beulah smears lard on Big Jim’s member and then, well—use your imagination, dear.”
“Well, you asked how I avoid engenderin’ a mulatto,” she retorted. “Where his seed is ultimately deposited, it doesn’t ignite with my, uh, womanly creative somethin’-or-other.” Looking back at him between her legs, her face turned hard. “You might try it with Beulah next time.”
Word count: 4,000
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