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The Deviant: 5> On the prowl (4 BBC)this story is part of the FanClub (fm:group, 3211 words)

Author: Chris-t6290 Picture in profile
Added: Oct 03 2013Views / Reads: 2215 / 1523 [69%]Story vote: 9.19 (16 votes)
After the ferociousness of last time, Shyla, recalling what lead to her deviant nature, went looking for Big Black Cock. Encountering three such rough and ready types, they invited her to an apartment, though not one of theirs.

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After my previous act of deviancy, wherein I had visited a biker bar and was relentlessly gangbanged on a pool table, my whole body, and not just my ass, ached for several days after. Thankfully, I was about to start my monthly cycle, which cooled my otherwise lustful jets for the following few days.

During that period (no pun intended), I reflected on what started me on this debauched journey; my thoughts returning to the initial incident with Mark and Rufus, two black men who had fucked my white body in the self same graveyard where my late husband had been laid to rest.

Subsequently, the recollection only served to make me all the more horny and in need of cock to placate my deviancy; big black cock!

‘Where to find it though,' I wondered to myself, over the next several days, until my body had fully recovered.

Leaving the home that I once shared with my devoted husband, I again went in search of that which I hoped would satisfy the deviancy that had somewhat taken me over.

Getting into my cherry red Merc, I activated the switch, which lowered the soft top, and then turned the ignition. It was totally exhilarating, to both hear its engine hum and to feel the slight but telling vibration; making me feel just as alive.

Driving around for a while with the cool breeze blowing my bushy shoulder length auburn hair, I was still at a loss as where to find my prey. After my last adventure, I had made up my mind not to go looking in the bars and halls that Negro's like to frequent.

I most certainly wouldn't class myself as racist, but, being a descendent of British immigrants, who are colloquially referred to as Brit's, I cannot see what's so offensive with referring to Nigerians as ‘Niger's'.

‘Ah, this looks promising,' I thought to myself, having noticed two black men up ahead of me stood around talking. Both of them wore jeans on their hips while the one with his back towards me had on a black vest and the other one a shirt, which he had removed and tied around

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