Anything Goes, Lust in the Shadows
Mary Not Wollstonecraft
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Anything Goes:
Lust in the Shadows
Between the lines of love and forbidden passion, she found the truth.
Mary Not Wollstonecraft
© Copyright 2023 by Mary Not Wollstonecraft
NOTE: This work contains material not suitable for anyone under eighteen (18) or those of a delicate nature. This is a story and contains descriptive scenes of a graphic sexual nature. This book is purely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously—any resemblance to actual persons, whether living, deceased, actual events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Anything Goes:
Lust in the Shadows
Growing up, my parents taught me all the wrong things about what was “right” and “wrong” concerning race. My folks had always emphasized racial separation and keeping to one’s own kind. So, I followed that rule — until one day, everything changed. Overnight, I found myself completely enthralled by black men, unable to deny my attraction to them — no matter how I tried to deny my feelings. It felt like a battle inside of me. As if the taboo of the thing drew me to black guys, challenging all the values I’d learned.
As long as they are alive, this isn’t something I will tell them. The desire is a secret I’ve kept from them for years.
My addiction to black men didn’t start until I was 18 and worked at a convenience store. A couple of black coworkers, one about my age and the other in his thirties, constantly harassed me.
They’d taunt me and tease me without mercy. Pinching my ass, rubbing my breasts, or battering my ears and sensibilities with nasty comments. These unwanted advances always upset me. But, if I’m honest, they thrilled me as well. They were good-looking men, enormous with powerful builds, and their unwanted advances built my confidence about my appearance.
“Fine ass for a cracker hoe. When are you gonna let me tap that pussy?” or rude comments like, “Once you go black, you’ll never go back.” All the cheesy lines you’d expect. Eventually, this became very annoying. And yet, somehow, exciting and intriguing.
These unwanted comments made my mind go to a place it shouldn’t. I wondered what hid under their pants.
I had a white fiancé. He’d been my only boyfriend, my solitary sexual experience, and our understanding of what we did was incomplete. I love him dearly, but he was, and is, a soft, effeminate boy. Actually, from the get-go, I was envious of how attractive he was. In those days, I called him handsome. I didn’t even realize how girly he was.
So anyway, one night, about a week before I married my boyfriend, everything changed. Carla asked me to finish, so she could leave and spend time with her kid. So, I end up working the closing shift at the store. I saw Shaquan, the younger black guy, walk into the men’s back bathroom. I followed him, thinking I would harass him for a change and maybe he’d leave me alone. So he’s in the stall peeing, and I walk in. He looks over and is clearly shocked to see me watching him.
“What you doing here, girl?” he said, his back turning slightly and glancing over his shoulder at me.
“So, are you going to show me your penis? Come on, big boy, don’t you want to show me? Don’t you want me to see how big your black cock is?”
He stood there, frozen. I’d shocked him. Good, now he’d know what it was like. I repeated my question. When I got no immediate response, I turned to leave.
“Hold up bitch, where you going?”
I turn to tell him to Fuck Off, and he’s, flopping this long, fat black penis shaking the last of the piss to the floor. Shaquan stood there, rubbing it, flaying it about like a limp-ish sword, and smiling at me with an evil grin. The massive snake in his hand flexed, swelled, and threatened to harden into a thick, black, steel shaft.