Honky Tonk

Shalonda went to the local honky tonk bar to let off some steam. It was an odd mix, she knew -- most people expected her to be listening to hip hop or R&B at the very least -- but she was a country girl at heart, and this was her element, even if it wasn't the low country.

She'd invited Peter, but he'd begged off, saying he was preparing for an exam. His loss, she thought, adjusting her cowboy boots. She went into the bar, ordering a drink, when a white boy had the courage to come up to her.

"Aren't you a pretty bit of chocolate," he said. Shalonda rolled her eyes. At least Peter wasn't corny, she thought.

"And ain't you a tall glass of milk," she responded. He had brown hair, parted across his head, medium length. He looked to be about 6'3, with tanned skin. "I'm Shalonda."

"Kyle," he responded. "Want a dance?"

"Why not," she said. "Here to blow off steam."

***

Kyle was a local police officer, a fresh graduate from the academy. He didn't strike Shalonda as someone that would have jungle fever, but based on the bulge growing inside his trousers, he had some repressed feelings starting to come out. Afterwards, they ended up in the backseat of Shalonda's car.

He had a large, pretty white cock, and his big green eyes went wide, watching the buxom Black beauty suck him off, her thick, plush lips wrapping around his prick and taking him deep. He didn't last long before he pulled her mouth off him, wrapping his cock in a large condom.

"Fuckin' best cocksucker I've ever seen," he whispered hoarsely.

"You ain't had a Black cocksucker then," Shalonda replied. He slid his long, fat white prick into her, her Black cuntwalls hugging him tightly. He didn't last long enough for Shalonda's liking, only ten minutes, only enough to get her off once. He laid atop her, gasping for air.

"Shit, that a nice prick ... but we gotta train you up, white boy," Shalonda said, smiling.