"Canvas In Black"! Pt. 02

Chapter One

60-year-old Blake Gray, a wealthy, computer software CEO, runs a hand through his pepper-gray hair, glaring at the photos of his adulterous wife in compromising positions with her Black lover. He had known of their sexual exploits for a while, having acquired the services of the rotund and grotesque private detective seated across from him. Both men are inside Blake's high rise, corporate office, large bay windows exposing its high elevation as well as skyscraper buildings across from it, in downtown Chicago, Illinois.

"That's a month's worth of investigation, Mister Blake." The private detective's voice is nasally, signs of a serious asthma condition, as he wipes his perspiring face with a handkerchief.

Blake nods, his eyes trained on a photo he holds of his slut wife, Deeanna, entering a Five Star hotel with her employer, Jerrell White. No doubt, one of his credit cards was used to pay for the extramarital affair. "You did well, Mister Canoli." He slides an envelope toward the detective. "It's all there... three grand. However, feel free to count it."

"No need," Detective Canoli replies, stuffing the envelope of money in an inside pocket of his tweed suit jacket," I trust you. We've transacted business in the past without a hitch." He stands. "Anything else you need of me?"

"No, for now, this is enough." Blake stands, extending his right hand. "Thank you for your services, detective."

"Anytime, Mr. Blake... you have my number." Detective Canoli shakes the powerful businessman's hand, exits his office.

Blake stares at each of the photos, envisioning his wife sexually servicing her Black Bull. It excited and repulsed him simultaneously. A part of him sympathized with her, realizing his erectile dysfunction prevented him from gratifying her sexual urges. Yet, the other part, felt betrayed. Deeanna went behind his back, stepping outside their marriage, instead of being a woman and discussing her deprivation, her lack of satisfaction due to his shortcomings in the bedroom. Thus are one of the downfalls of marrying older... she knew this! Even with Viagra, his 5-inch, pencil-thin penis failed to adequately perform. And that was another thing... his inadequate manhood. Innumerable times, he knows his trophy wife was faking orgasms to stroke his deflating ego. That much he would give her... She actually cared, to an extent, about boosting his low self-esteem. Being affluent and respected had its perks but neither compensated for losing a once adored spouse to the charms and physical expertise of an African American Bull.

Blake checks the Family Locator app on his Samsung Android. According to it, Deeanna was still at work. But tonight, would be a different story. He texted her a fabricated story that his business trip had been extended due to unforeseen circumstances, discovering her plans to meet with Jerrell. Besides Detective Canoli, Blake had other ways of tracking his wife's unfaithful encounters. Tonight, he would surprise her and Mister Jerrell White! He stands, placing both hands in either pocket of his dark slacks. Which match his long sleeve shirt, striped tie and dress shoes. Briefly, he glares out the window and sighs. He sits behind his oak wood desk, opens a drawer and stares down at a loaded forty-five revolver.

"Tonight is the reckoning," Blake mumbles, closing the drawer then rocking back in his swivel chair.

CHAPTER TWO

470-pound weights clank as Jerrell bench presses them, his breathing controlled and steadied. Perspiration trickles from his face, rolling down his neck to his chest, as he reaches a fourth repetition.

DING! Jerrell picks up an IPHONE, a trade in for his Android, between his legs, sitting up on a padded weight bench to read the incoming text message: HUBBY'S WORK TRIP'S EXTENDED; HE'S NOT RETURNING TONIGHT. COME GET THIS KITTY, DADDY! A Hello Kitty, extending a drooling tongue, emoticon and Deeanna's name follow the text message.

"Bet that," Jerrell says aloud, standing and drying his face with a towel.

The doorbell of his one-bedroom condominium rings. Draping the towel around his neck, he ascends the basement's concrete stairs, leading up to a spacious living room, and peers through the front door's peephole. He opens the door, checking the time on his iPhone.

"You're early, Rosetta," Jerrell informs, stepping aside to allow an attractive, Hispanic woman to enter.

"The early bird always catches the worm," Rosetta Espinoza replies with a smile, revealing perfect, white teeth, and gently squeezes her fitness instructor's bulge. 30-years-of-age, she is a stunning hot-wife at 5'6, with bluish-gray eyes... long and dark, curly hair. A tan trench coat worn, that only display her toned legs and calves, a pair of thick point high heels leave a small indention in the tiger-striped carpet as she walks to a patent-leather loveseat then turns. She unbuckles the trench coat, giving Jerrell a sly smile, as it falls. Rosetta steps over it, outlining her curvaceous figure, while rotating her hips. "Like what you see, Papi," she teases.

Jerrell rests back against the door, rubbing his goatee, as he visually absorbs the Hispanic hot-wife's attire: a blue, lace bra, with matching panties, that enhance her 38 D cups. "I sure do, Mami," he replies, walking behind Rosetta.

She grinds her donkey ass against Jerrell as he slides his hands around her slim waist. "Someone's excited to see me," Rosetta whispers, rubbing the large bulge protruding from the good-looking fitness instructor's sweatpants.

"Always, Mami," Jerrell responds softly, kissing Rosetta's neck then earlobe.

"That's nice," Rosetta replies, grinding harder against the throbbing bulge rested against her ass. After facing Jerrell, she rises on tiptoe to interlock her arms around his neck; they French kiss as he grips her buttocks, moaning as her designer nails graze his nipples.

"Damn, Papi, " Rosetta says breathlessly, breaking the passionate kiss.

"Dig how I kiss, Mami," Jerrell asks arrogantly.

"Most definitely!" Rosetta tweaks Jerrell's nipples. "Ready to work this pussy?"

Jerrell lifts her, Rosetta's legs embracing his waist, as their eyes connect. "How long do we have, Mami?" He pecks her lips.

"The same... an hour," Rosetta answers. "My husband's out of town overnight; however, I have a lunch date with my sister then hanging out with friends afterwards."

"Bet... no time to waste!" Jerrell drapes Rosetta over his shoulders, carrying her up a spiral staircase to a loft, then flings her on a King Size bed. "Ditch the bra and panties, Mami."

Rosetta removes the lingerie as instructed, captivated as she watches the Alpha, Black male unbuckle her high heels, tossing them to the side. He kisses her feet... trails his tongue along her pedicured toes then the soles. Next the legs are widened... slow, tender kisses gifted her inner thighs. Jerrell lowers to nuzzle her furry patch, his nose pressing against her clitoris.

"Right there, Papi," Rosetta moans, moving her fingernails along the back of Jerrell's head, "that's the spot." Her labia opened, his tongue's tip dabs at the exposed rosebud. Sausage- thick fingers enter her vagina and asshole, making her jerk then stiffen. Her arms are pinned to the bed, disallowing movement, as her pussy pulses.

"Almost there, Papi." The warning is spoken with difficulty as Rosetta's sexual libido exceeds her normal control. She pinches her nipples, flailing her head right-and-left.

"Not yet, Mami," Jerrell prohibits, snatching Rosetta forward. He eats her pussy, standing and holding her mid-air, making her lips quiver, as her legs dangle.

"Cumming!" Rosetta wails, discharging warm liquid for Jerrell to drink. He lowers her to the bed, permitting Rosetta to lick off the pussy juices dangling from his mouth and chin.

"I taste delicious, Papi." Rosetta outlines Jerrell's abs with a finger, gasping for air.

Lying prostrate across the bed, his long legs almost hanging off the edge, Jerrell rests his hands behind his head. "Handle your business, Mami," he states, nodding toward the crotch area of his sweatpants. Purring like a feline, Rosetta crawls to him, hooks her fingers in sweatpants' waist, pulling them down and off. Her tongue's pink stud circles the head of Jerrell's BBC.

"Mami, you're working magic," Jerrell praises, bringing Rosetta closer.

Encouraged by Jerrell's words, Rosetta grabs his balls, squeezing them, then sucks the dark, one-eyed monster.

"Work it, woman... get that shit!" Jerrell smacks Rosetta's ass as she employs her throat on his BBC, curling his toes. She lifts up, removing it from her mouth to beat against her tongue then both cheeks.

"Aight, I'm ready," Jerrell says with a husky tone. He flips Rosetta on her stomach, expands her pussy with persistent thrusts, as he grips her hips. By the hair, he pulls her to her knees, pummeling her hairy hole until her ass shakes like jelly.

"Cumming again, Papi," Rosetta gutturally announces.

"Do you, Boo," Jerrell pants, "because I'm bussing too-o!"

As Rosetta climaxes, Jerrell slides out of her, whacking off until his BBC explodes, creaming her ass cheeks with ropes of sperm. She peers back at him, rubbing it into her skin. "Oo-o," Papi, your nut is hot and thick!" She tastes the cum, giving him a wink.

Jerrell stumbles to his feet, his tall, gigantic frame almost touching the ceiling, as his BBC drips the last of his release onto the carpet. "I'm taking a shower, Mami."

Rosetta rests on an elbow as she motions a kiss. "Can I join you, Papi? Wait, what time is it?" She sits up.

Jerrell checks his iPhone. "You have 30 minutes left."

Rosetta extends her hand; he pulls her up from the bed. As they walk down the stairs, he slaps her ass.

"You're so bad, Papi," Rosetta teases, grasping Jerrell's hand.

"You already know," he replies with a mischievous smile.

CHAPTER THREE

4 hours later, Deeanna rides Jerrell cowgirl as she holds the bedposts of her matrimonial bed. He fondles her oscillating breasts, twirling his tongue with hers, after she presses against his chest. Her ass and hips move in perfect harmony to work his BBC, a twerk thrown in for good measure.

"Buss it down, Dee Dee," Jerrell pants.

Profusely, the two forbidden lovers perspire, Deeanna clawing Jerrell's shoulder-blades and chest. "Daddy, your big, Back cock's fire!" She convulses from consecutive orgasms, her pussy muscles vise-gripping his BBC. Her nipples are nursed then extended, driving her to ride it faster.

With Stealth silence, Blake enters the bedroom, the forty-five-revolver tucked in his suit pants' waist, applauding as he sits in a chair.

Startled, his disloyal wife springs off Jerrell and conceals her nudity with the silk bedsheets.

"The fuck!" Jerrell protests but immediately quiets as he detects the barrel of a gun pointed at him. Blake Gray's has a cold, angry expression as he holds it.

"Please, continue," Blake falsely encourages, "don't stop on my account."

Deeanna scoots away from Jerrell, clutching the bedsheets tighter. "Blake," she nervously stammers, "what... are you doing home? Thought..." Her eyes widen in trepidation, locked on the gun.

"That my business meeting out of town was extended?" Blake completes, crossing his legs. "I lied. Something you're good at, Deeanna. Hello, Jerrell."

Jerrell maintains his composure, seemingly unphased by his current, dire situation. "Uh, what's good, Blake?"

Blake chuckles. "My cheating wife's pussy maybe? You keep coming back for more!"

Deeanna moves forward, the bedsheets released; Blake eyes her heaving breasts, feeling a slight stir in his groin that fleetly subsides. "Blake, honey, look..."

"Save it, Deeanna," Blake barks. His wife's head drops in despair.

Jerrell folds his arms. "We're busted, Dee Dee. It is what it is."

"Shut up, Jerrell," Deeanna snaps, glaring at him. She sighs. "Don't make this worse."

"Just stating facts," Jerrell replies with a shrug.

"Dee Dee," Blake muses with a smile. "What a cute pet name. It fits you, Deeanna."

Agitatedly, Jerrell waves off Blake. "Look, homes, bust a cap or let me bounce. Sorry for fucking your wife but not really."

"The hell, Jerrell!" Deeanna scolds in disbelief, smacking Jerrell's chest.

Jerrell smirks, his glare challenging Blake to pull the gun's trigger.

Laughing, Blake approaches the bed, keeping the revolver on the two lovebirds. "Jerrell, you're a smug, Black bastard!" He admires Jerrell's brawny physique and height. "But a man your size... with your physical development, I suppose it comes naturally." He sits on edge of bed. "Here's the deal. No one's dying tonight." He faces his wife. "And I'm not divorcing you, Dee Dee." Blake sounds a short laugh.

Deeanna looks away in shame.

"Although I could," the jilted husband continues, "and have a solid case. I hired a private investigator to follow you and Jerrell. He produced photos, times, dates and locations. I have enough evidence to bury you in court. You wouldn't see a cent of my money. I dare you to try living off a fitness instructor's salary compared to the lavish lifestyle I provide!"

Deeanna brushes away tears... unable to face her husband.

"Enough, Blake, "Jerrell chimes in, "get on with it!"

"I will... be patient," Blake replies calmly. He stands, turning serious. "Both of you... get the fuck up!"

Quickly, Deeanna stands; nonchalantly, Jerrell does as well, Blake appearing transfixed as he stares at his BBC.

"Are you a man or a donkey?"

"The fuck that's supposed to mean, Blake?"

Blake waves the gun at Jerrell's still erect BBC.

"Kiss my Black ass!' Jerrell waves off a laughing Blake.

Deeanna grabs her lover's arm. "What's the matter with you!? My husband has a gun on us, and you're being a cocky asshole... really!?"

Jerrell snatches away, eyeing Blake defiantly. "He's not going to use it."

"And I'm not," Blake admits, "if my terms are met."

Jerrell folds his arms. "Which are?"

Deeanna fidgets from foot-to-foot, observing her husband intently.

"You two fuck while I watch."

Jerrell smirks, lifting then dropping his hands. "Is that all? Dee Dee, your perv husband is a cuckold. I'm clowning his old ass!" He waves off Blake, sizing him up in disgust.

"Blake, you can't be serious," Deeanna opposes in astonishment.

"As a cardiac arrest, Dee Dee," Blake retorts.

"Stop calling me that!" In anger, Deeanna crosses her arms, facing away.

"Sounds better when Jerrell says it?" Blake appears amused.

"Enough with the games, "Jerrell intervenes. "If Deeanna is cool with the suggestion, I'm down. But, real talk, if we're doing it, let's do it! Afterwards, I'm out of here. It was real, Dee Dee, but your pussy's not worth all this bullshit!"

"Fuck you, Jerrell," Deeanna retaliates, not facing him.

Blakes stands in the middle of the bedroom. "Deeanna, be a good wife and face me, " he insists.

Slowly, Deeanna obeys.

"And you, Jerrell, " Blake goes on, gesturing with the revolver, "go to her."

At attention, Jerrell and Deeanna face off.

"Kneel and suck his BBC, Deeanna." Blake nudges his wife forward.

Hesitantly, Deeanna relents, kneeling to stroke Jerrell's shaft and unenthusiastically perform fellatio.

"You can do better than that, "Blake reprimands, waving the gun. "Really get into it! Yank her hair, Jerrell!"

Concisely, Jerrell scowls at Blake then twists Deeanna's hair, pressuring her forward to suck his BBC faster. Soon drool forms, dripping from her mouth.

"That's it!" Blake excitedly exclaims. "Keep that energy!" He advances closer to Jerrell, almost touching shoulders with him, as he gawks at the BBC thrusting in his wife's mouth. He squats beside her.

"Can I touch your balls, Jerrell?" Blake's voice breaks with wanton yearning.

Deeana ceases the expert blowjob, staring at her husband in amazement, as Jerrell's BBC bulges her cheeks.

'Dammit, bitch, keep sucking," Blake yells, aiming the pistol at his spouse. "Did I tell you to stop!?"

At a high speed, Deeanna sucks the BBC, watching husband from the corner of her eye.

"Can I?" Blake's eyes are pleading as they gaze into Jerrell's.

"Jerrell shrugs. "You've got the gun, homeboy. How can I refuse?"

His hands trembling, Blake cups Jerrell's testicles. "Um, they're so heavy!" He salivates, weighing them, admiring their fullness. "Huge, Black Bull balls! Can I kiss them?"

"You're a bona fide, Beta cuckold, " Jerrell chuckles. "Dee Dee, your old man's a closet faggot!"

Deeanna rolls her eyes, slobbering and gagging, as she roughly blows Jerrell.

"Whatever, bitch Boi, "Jerrell concurs, "get your rocks off!"

The malicious insults fall on deaf ears as Blake caresses then kisses the Black Bull's balls. He inhales their musky odor; his suppressed cuckold side fully emerged. "I totally get it now, Deeanna!" Blake rubs Jerrell's balls across his face and lips, watching him. "Let me suck your BBC... please Jerrell!"

"Ask your wife to share," Jerrell laughs, reveling the humiliation of the pathetic, white cuckold.

Blake sets his gun to the side. "Let me try, dear," he pants. The cuckold's previous plans of revenge have been superseded by an intense necessity for BBC... his masculine tone reduced to one more feminine and girlish.

Deeanna nods, handing her sissy husband what he craves, as she laps Jerrell's balls.

Jerrell watches in amusement as Blake grapples to force all of his BBC down his throat. "Let me assist, bitch Boi," he degrades, pressing downward, gagging him. Blakes taps out, his drool covering Jerrell's balls, mixing with Deeanna's after she sucked then rolled them in her mouth, as Jerrell snatches up his head. Blake massages the wet shaft, finding a cadence on the upstroke, as his esophagus elongates to receive the BBC's helmet.

"Damn you're a natural," Jerrell feignedly compliments, thrusting hard into Blake's throat, pushing his balls deeper inside Deeanna's mouth.

"Fuck, big man," Blake pants, pulling away, "what a jawbreaker!"

Jerrell laughs, the cuckold's disordered appearance donating a sense of "get back".

"Fuck my wife now!" Blake springs to his feet, bringing Deeanna up with him. He wipes his phlegm covered mouth, flinging her on the bed. "Get on all fours, Deeanna... spread your pussy for our Black Bull!" OUR is stressed as Blake undresses. He stares down at his stiff penis and gasps. "Guess that settles it, "he realizes aloud. "I'm a bisexual cuckold!"

"Welcome to the obvious, Beta bitch, "Jerrell antagonizes, moving behind Deeanna as she widens her ass cheeks, exposing her wet pussy. "Get over here for a closeup of me fucking your wife!"

Hastily, Blake complies, resting his head against Deeanna's ass. It bounces up and down as her cunt is fucked at a fast pace.

"Take me to pound town, Daddy," Deeanna roots her lover on, his BBC serving its purpose and making her gush.

Rapidly, Blake beats his small cock then stops, dropping to a doggy position in likeness of his wife. "I need your BBC in my ass, Jerrell," he implores. "Use my hole... breed it!"

Deeanna, now caught up in the distorted yet intriguing chemistry launched between them, gives her husband head while he is ass fucked. He emits amorous moans as the BBC drives inside his rectum, the giant of a Black man slapping his pale buttocks.

"Enjoying this, faggot," Jerrell asks, verbally abusing Blake.

"I am," Blake screams, gritting his teeth. "Fuck my shit hole... go harder! I... I need it! I need you... Daddy!"

"I'm your Daddy?" Jerrell thrusts faster.

"Fuck yes, you are! Take me... Daddy-y!" Blake's wad spurts inside Deeanna's mouth as Jerrell wrecks his man pussy.

"Daddy's bussing, bitch!" Jerrell exclaims.

" I already am, Daddy," Blake bellows, cum filling his wife's mouth quicker than she can swallow.

"Cumming harder, cuckold faggot!" Jerrell's semen overloads Blake's ass cunt; then, he is spun around. "Clean Daddy!" He wags his flaccid BBC, Deeanna rotating her husband's head as he cleans their Black Bull's meat.

Exhausted, they all three lie side-by-side, Blake in the middle, gazing from Deeanna to Jerrell. "I think we can come to a satisfactory arrangement."

"We already have," Jerrell conceitedly replies.

Blake squeezes his BBC. "Yes, Daddy, we have."

Deeanna reclines her head on her husband's chest as all three lovers lounge in the profane consummation of their forged bond.

THE END