Not what he expected

Bobby had driven home yesterday fully expecting that any moment he would be stopped by police. That at some point soon he would be put into the back of a cop car and dragged through a punch if reporters egos would make him out to be the devil personified rather than a guy that had just snapped under all the stress of being a white guy in a heavy anti-white industry.

He would end up facing some judge, probably some Black lesbian; he decreed it right that the raciest bitch, Choco, for everything from him, including the clothes off his back, as compensation for the heinous crime he had committed. He would never be asked for his testimony or allowed to defend himself, just labeled, declared guilty, drained for all he was worth, and then put in a prison where he would never know freedom again.

It honestly should have enraged him that he was sexually assaulted and racially degraded, then responded to her crimes by giving Choco the fucking of her life, and now Choco was going to get everything he had worked for and everything his family had entrusted him with. But he couldn't find it in himself to care as what's done is done, and honestly he was looking forward to hanging out with one of those crews in prison where you didn't have to take shit from Black people; in fact, they demanded you beat the shit out of them if they looked at you wrong.

Bobby found himself almost looking forward to it, not the public shaming or some holier-than-thou judge telling him he was the root of all evil while letting Choco off the hook for any and all crimes she committed. No, as Bobby walked into his fancy two-story home, he found himself relaxing to his favorite tunes while waiting for the cops to break down his door and grab him.

But that never happened; instead, he fell asleep on his couch, the cops never showing. Though as Bobby woke to the morning sunlight coming through his windows, he figured that perhaps they were wanting him to come into work to grab him. He didn't know why, but he didn't know why all the Black rappers were big anti-White racists despite the White group being one of their biggest buyers. So it wasn't the biggest stretch of logic he had ever had to make.

So Bobby walked to his car with a pep in his step, eagerly thinking about how he could join whatever pro-white gang in whatever prison he ended up in at record speed. As he was very eager to be around people who wouldn't bitch about his race or think it was okay to make racial slurs about his race every other word. Though as he got out of his car and made his way into the studio building, he wasn't jumped by the police.

Instead, his secretary, Shanique, who on good days ignored him and on bad days greeted him with a middle finger and whatever anti-white racial slur was at the top of her head, was politely waiting for him with a bright smile. "Go on in, sir; you have a visitor waiting for you." Shanique said in a polite voice. Seeing Shanique's attitude and voice, Bobby found himself becoming very nervous.

"Sure." He said in a very mild voice as he was suddenly very wary of what was going on. Before he had figured she would have him in the slammer, but there was no way some random cops could get his secretary, Shanique, to play nice with him. Which means Choco had to have put her up to it, which meant this was probably a trap of a more bloody sort than the police arrest he had been expecting.

So now significantly more wary but not wanting to put it off for later as it risked him being ambushed by Choco when he wasn't on his toes. So he opened his door and stared slack-jawed at what was waiting for him in his office. What was waiting for him was Choco, as he had expected, just not as he had expected her. She was wearing Daisy Dukes that left half her ass hanging out and a southern flag bikini top with boots and a black choker to tie the whole thing together.

"You like?" Choco asked a very confused Bobby, who merely stared at her for a long moment. Choco seeing the wide-eyed, surprised look as well as the clearly growing, visible hard-on in Bobby's pants made a lustful smile. "I'll take that as a yes." Choco said before grabbing Bobby's hand and pulling him over to his desk chair, then sitting him down.

Bobby, too shocked and confused trying to figure out what the hell was going on, didn't put up any resistance. Once Bobby was sitting comfortably in his chair, staring at Chick, clearly trying to figure out what she was playing at. Choco sat down in his lap and began to gently and tenderly kiss along his neck while shoving her breast into his chest and grinding her ass into his crouch.

"I believe, Masta, that I have some explaining to do." Choco said, punctuating each of her words with another tender kiss to his neck. Bobby found himself agreeing with her; she did have some explaining to do, mainly about what the hell was going on! The thought roared in Bobby's head.