CREAMPIE STORY - CUCKOLD STORY

CREAMPIE STORY - CREAMPIE CAFE 2

Wendell's sheer ecstasy was interrupted by a hand grasping the scruff of his neck and pulling him away from the heaven he'd been enjoying. "Whoa there, Wendy," he recognized Lulu's voice. "Let's not be greedy. Fifteen minutes is the limit. She's got other customers to serve."

Wendell's eyes never left the warm flesh before him. It took him a moment to remember where he was and to realize that he was still pulling forward, trying to reach the juncture of the outspread legs before him.

"Wow," he uttered involuntarily as he relaxed and sat back.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Lulu giggled.

"Y-yes," he stammered.

"I just love watching a white boy swill down black sperm for the first time. The look on their faces when they realize just how much they need they to swallow that thick semen is just priceless."

"I-I just couldn't help m-myself," said Wendell, still staring at the glistening flesh of the now-fully-cleaned pussy in front of him.

"You're disappointed that it's all gone, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he admitted, surprising himself. He straightened his glasses without bothering to wipe off the glaze of sexual fluids that covered the lenses.

"You really went to town, Wendy," Lulu beamed. "Don't tell me you haven't done this before! You made her cum at least three times."

"Four," Trixie corrected breathlessly as she jumped off the counter and straightened her uniform skirt.

"I ... I've never made any woman cum before," he admitted.

"Well, you're GOOD at it, Wendy. You're an excellent cumsucker! Now ... would you like some more?"

"Oh, God yes."

"Of course you do! I took the liberty of ordering for you, Wendy. One #2, Extra Fresh! It costs a bit more, but it's worth it." A murmur of agreement came from the growing crowd of men who now lined the counter.

"O-Ok, sounds good. How do I ... I mean, who--"

The 'kitchen' door popped open once again as Candy stumbled out, giggling as she made her way along the passage behind the counter. Even though everyone in the place knew she'd just been seriously fucked, somehow there wasn't a hair out of place -- just a beautiful glow about her.

"Oh, yesss," mumbled Wendell as he stared open mouthed at her lithe, tender form. She caught the look and smiled at him, but his expression quickly turned to disappointment as she glided smoothly past him.

She chucked him on the chin as she went by. "Sorry, Wendy, but this cuntful is already promised to Wally. You know that, silly! But don't worry ... you order is up next!"

Wendell's gape-jawed stare never left her as she smoothly took spun into place on the counter in front of the literally drooling Wally. Every head in the place that wasn't already between a pair of thighs turned to watch as the lucky man slowly lowered his face toward the Y of her legs. His head lolled in a slight circle as he inhaled to savor the heady aroma. A chorus of soft moans was the only break in the silence as Wally's tongue pressed gently against ...

The loud smack of a door being kicked open along with a loud shriek caused all the free heads to turn back toward the kitchen. Wendell's eyes widened as he watched a stout, muscular black man walk toward him with an oddly wide stance. The reason for his unusual gait was the fact that he was carrying a petite, young brunette against his chest. Her back was to him and his arms were looped under each knee, pulling her legs open in a lewd spread-eagle formation. Even more amazing was that this young girl's ass was speared onto his huge cock.

Wendell gripped his thighs so hard that he heard his knuckles pop. He'd grabbed his thighs earlier to keep himself from touching his aching pecker, but now it was an incredible battle just to keep them still.

"Uuungh ... uuh ... unngh," cried the brunette as each step thrust the cock in and out of her stretched hole. Wendell's breath left him when the young man stopped and turned toward him; Wendell realized that this order was for him.

"Glad you ... (guuhh) ... found the place, white bread." Wendell didn't need to look at his face in order to realize that this was the black youth who'd given him directions on the street. "You ready for dis, boy?!"

"Yes. Oh yes, please," rasped Wendell, never taking his eyes off the juncture of the black cock and the girl's ravaged asshole.

The young man grinned, pulled back with his arms to lift the poor girl higher, then began pumping his hips upward with rapid strokes.

"Oh-h-hhh ... mmm-y-yy ... G-o-dd-d!" she cried as tears began running down her ecstatic face. "P-p-aaay ... m-m-eee. Ple-eease ... p-aa-y ...." Her hands flopped loosely at the end of her arms, but her fingers grasped at the air.

"Wha-?" stammered Wendell, barely able to understand her.

"Pay up ... boy!" shouted the black man between the wet whaps of his thighs against the girl's asscheeks. "Pay ... the bitch ... for my cumload!"

Wendell quickly did the math for an 'extra fresh' #2, fumbled with his wallet, and yanked out two bills -- a hundred and a fifty. He reached up and slapped them into the girl's hand just as her screaming reached a crescendo and the young man groaned and made his final thrusts into her, obviously flooding her innards with his rich cum. The waitress flopped around like a rag doll, blubbering out an orgasmic chain of unintelligible nonsense.

With one final burst of effort, he hoisted her up off his cock and lifted her smoothly into the seat on the counter in front of him. Even though a thin strand of filmy liquid stretched out between the cock and her hole, Wendell could tell by the slight popping sound her ass had held tight as that black monster pulled out. Once seated on the counter, her muscle control obviously began to relax as her hole began to quiver and fall open, revealing the pulsating red flesh coated with white slime.

"Eeeeat m-me," he heard her whisper through a sly, closed-eye grin. "Eat that ... b-black cum out of m-my ass, you ... n-n-nasty little white boy," she giggled.

As Wendell moved his head into her crotch, he noticed some odd squiggle-shaped tattoos on her inner thighs. He never turned his eyes away from his goal long enough to examine them, but his peripheral vision told him they were ... ears. A tattooed outline of pink, whiteboy ears. And as his face settled into place, he realized they were a perfect fit.

* * *

Wendell drew the back of his hand across his chin, wiping it clean. Without even thinking, he then licked it clean just as he'd licked every square inch of the brunette's supple thighs, ass, pussy and anything else she let him reach with his tongue. Any portion of her that bore even a thinnest glaze of semen. Especially the warm, silky depths of her butthole where most of the delicious cum was deposited.

The brunette was gone, having pried his head from her crotch when his time was done and given the top of it a giggly pat goodbye. He looked down the counter to find Wally's head just now being lifted gently from the lovely Candy's warm nether region. Part of his brain registered complaint that Wally had obviously gotten more than 15 minutes, but then he smugly remembered that he'd gotten to suck out two cumfilled holes in the time when Wally had gotten only one.

But ... he did get Candy, after all.

Her golden hair fell in silky sheets as her head rolled in a gentle circle. Her eyes slowly opened and she looked down at him with those amazing, sultry blue eyes. "Wallllly ... that was amaaaaazing," she purred. "Why didn't anyone tell me you were getting soooooo good at this?"

"I ... I g-guess you just inspire me, Miss Candy," replied Wally with a shucksy-darn grin.

"Oh, we know what inspires you, Wally. That gooey, yummy negro sperm, that's what," she teased as she reached forward and ruffled his hair. Wally actually giggled like a schoolboy. "I decided to break the rules and treat you to a double, Wally. Did you notice?"

"I sure did, Miss Candy! I noticed there was an awful lot in there. I sure do appreciate it."

"Well, you helped me out with the newcomer over there, Wally!" said Candy, waving her hand toward Wendell. "It's the least I can do. Now, are you ready to show him how we serve a 'chaser' here?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, I am, Miss Candy. I'm ready."

"Is this your first chaser, Wally?"

"Yes. Yes it is, but I can do it. I promise not to spill."

"Ok, then .... open wide."

Wally leaned down to her crotch again and opened his mouth wide about three inches from her pussy. Candy looked over and Wendell, made eye contact, and smiled. Wendell gasped as a golden stream of piss erupted from her freshly cleaned pussy directly into Wally's mouth. Wally slowly closed the gap and eventually sealed his mouth against her flesh. Wendell watched in awe as his adam's apple rose and fell as he swallowed. He swallowed every drop. And true to his word, he didn't spill.

Wendell had to look away. His dick was throbbing so hard in his pants that it became seriously painful. But even as he averted his eyes from one erotic scene, they fell upon another. A perky young blonde approached two men one of the booths against the wall, lifted her eyebrows in a questioning look, and raised four fingers. A happy looking young man raised his hand, handed over a few bills, then ... opened his mouth. Wendell exhaled slowly as he watched the girl gently drizzle a thick cumload from her mouth into that of the eager young man. She then grasped his face with both hands and gave him a long, deep, whimpering kiss ... thereby assuring that every drop was transfered into his mouth.

The cramping sensation in his crotch made him look in yet another direction only to witness a lovely young lady climb onto a table and squat over the face of the man who had just laid on top of it. She made sure everyone saw the stream of piss start, then lowered herself down to seal against his face. Much to the giggling delight of the waitress, the man's companions at the table jovially counted out the number of swallows that were indicated by the motions of his throat.

Wendell closed his eyes to avoid seeing any more. His hands shook from the sheer exertion of *not* touching his dick. His breathing was shallow. He'd never seen or felt anything as erotic as what was going on seemingly everywhere inside the diner.

"Don't worry, Wendy. You'll get used to it, soon. This happens to first-timers sometimes, especially when they're natural cumsuckers like you." It was Candy's voice that he suddenly heard, it's reassuring tone instantly making him feel better. A little better, but not much.

"Don't worry, Wendy. You'll get used to it, soon. This happens to first-timers sometimes, especially when they're natural cumsuckers like you." It was Candy's voice that he suddenly heard, it's reassuring tone instantly making him feel better. A little better, but not much.

"Wh-what's happening ... why ... why did I ... ?" Wendell coughed out.

"Aw, Wendy. It's okay. It's okay. I know you have questions, but you've got to calm down. You enjoyed your lunch, right?"

"Why ... it was delicious, but ... what's the ..." Wendell gasped, but then stopped and took a deep breath. "Candy ... why did I eat all that ...? Am ... am I gay?"

Candy laughed out loud, "Oh, goodness no, Wendy! What you're feeling is a far baser reaction than anything defined as homosexual or heterosexual -- it's totally instinctual. It's one of the few truly instinctual reactions left in modern white men ... you really can't help it."

"In-- ... instinctual?"

"Sure. Instinct. That's why you feel the way you do right now. You're fighting the instinctual urge to dive in and lick up every ounce of black semen in the place. But just like a soldier learns to fight his instinct to flee from danger, you'll soon learn to control your reactions."

"I ... I don't understand."

"I know, Wendy. It'll take some time. I'm sorry to introduce you to your baser instincts with this trial by fire method, but Mr. Roosevelt thought that it was best that you get first hand knowledge as to what it is that makes our business so successful. Plus ... " she leaned in close and ran a hand along his chest, " ... you looked soooo cute slurping down that black sperm with your little polyester accountant pants all tented upward and everything."

Wendell ignored both the mention of business and the beautiful woman's touch -- both of which would normally gain his attention easily. He was obviously still caught up in his unexpected desires. "Ok, I'm not gay. Good. But I ... I really wanted that sperm. I mean, God that was good. I still ... I still don't understand."

"Don't worry, Wendy. A lot of white men have tried in the past to understand their compulsion to suck down that negro cum. It's not exactly widespread knowledge, but a few select minds have done some serious thinking on the subject. Emmett ... that's his bald head you see over there between Brandy's thighs ... is a college professor. He thinks it's a pheromonal thing. Y'see, since the majority of white men -- especially you little dicked fellas -- never truly satisfy a woman, you've never actually been around a woman who's exuding the aura of true sexual ecstasy. Only a man-sized black cock can truly do that."

Wendell twitched slightly at the idea of being called 'little-dicked' ... but realized that he had nothing that could compete with what he'd seen here today.

"When a white woman has been properly blackfucked, her body is just bursting with pheromones that draw in you white boys like moths to a porchlight. It's only natural for you to go straight to the source of her pleasure ... the fuckbattered orifice that's been stretched by black cock and filled with black sperm."

Wendell's body convulsed slightly and his dick ached anew as it swelled just from the sound of her vivid descriptions.

"Emmett also thinks that there's a genetic preference toward semen sucking in you boys. It seems to be passed most strongly along with wiry builds and remarkably small penises. The impulse to swallow black cum exists in nearly all white men, but those with tiny peckers are the most likely to have their women go out seeking a true fucking from a black cock. With me so far?"

Wendell nodded, "But wh--"

"Let me finish, Wendy. Now, given the innate superiority of black sperm, the only chance a little white guy like you has to actually reproduce is to suck those stronger little wigglers out of his woman's cunt. The fact that the act of doing so excites him immensely also helps; it means that he might actually shoot enough of his own miserable juice to actually stand a chance of impregnating her. Therefore, the best white sperm suckers who are most aroused by the act thus become the only ones to pass on their genes. Thus, the natural desire -- the instinct -- to suck down black cum has been reinforced genetically for millennia." She paused for a moment, then added, "You were born to eat Negro sperm, Wendy."

Wendell thought silently for a moment, then nodded in apparent acceptance. "Y-you sure seem to know a lot about this, Candy."

"Oh, well I'm working my way through college. I'm getting a Master's degree in Male Sexuality ... with a minor in African Studies. Emmy over there is my faculty adviser. I've learned a lot from listening to his muffled voice coming from between my legs. So, any more questions?"

Wendell nodded. "I guess what you say makes sense, but ... but I sure liked that #2. It was ... delicious. Th-that's got nothing to do with human reproductive instincts, does it?"

"Well, it could be simply that your instincts aren't all that focused ... and any cum in the general vicinity gets treated the same," Candy explained. Then she leaned in closely again and drew a single finger along Wendell's jawline as she whispered in his ear, "Or it could be that you enjoyed it simply because you're a nasty little white boy who loves sucking and slurping a black man's semen from the well stretched asshole of a young white woman. Just like Wally loved clamping his mouth on me and drinking down my sweet piss." She moved her mouth an inch away from his ear so he could feel her breath as she whispered, "Does that explanation work for you, Wendy?"

"Yeah ..." Wendell swallowed hard as his body shuddered again. He turned to look at her and she looked him dead in the eye, waiting for an answer. "... that ... that sounds good to me."

"Good! So now you understand!" she chirped. "Now, as I said, the arousal of the white male results in a drastic increase in sperm and seminal fluids ... which is evident in the fact that your bag is leaking." Candy glanced at Wendell's lap.

"Bag?" he questioned, looking downward. A small, wet circle in the center of his crotch was obviously what Candy was referring to.

"Oh my. You're such a natural cumsucker, Wendy, I keep forgetting that you're a newcomer. Come with me."

Candy grabbed Wendell by the hand and yanked him off the bar stool. She headed toward the back of the restaurant and right through the Men's room door without even slowing down. Once inside, she tugged something from a dispenser on the wall, turned and immediately reached for Wendell's belt buckle.

"I should have remembered to tell you, Wendy, but leakers like you are required to bag up before dining," Candy calmly explained as she yanked down his pants and boxers. Wendell looked helplessly around the room, but only saw two other patrons standing at the urinals against the far wall. They stiffened noticeably at the sound of Candy's voice, but stared straight ahead, seemingly ignoring what was happening behind them.

Some part of Wendell's brain suddenly realized that the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen was now kneeling down in front of him pulling his pants to his ankles. But before he could think to enjoy or even to react to the moment, he felt a sharp snap around the base of his penis.

"Owwww!!" he cried in obvious pain.

"Oh, sorry Wendy, but it's the only way I can get your bag on there without actually touching that thing."

Wendell looked down and saw that she'd fitted a plastic bag with a tight elastic band built into the opening around the base of his dick and balls. With the tight ring around the juncture of his testicles, the end of the bag was just too short for the length of his erect penis. He winced and looked at Candy pleadingly.

"Don't look at me like that, Wendy. You're the one who's practically creaming his shorts while sucking down a black man's cum. Now, pull up your pants and we'll get back to your tour." Candy then turned around and spoke loudly to the men against the wall, "Whack off all you want, boys, but remember to lick the urinals clean when you're finished."

Seeing the surprised look on Wendell's face as he buckled his belt, she whispered an explanation, "Too much white boy sperm tends to clog the drains, y'know."

Candy took his hand again and Wendell placidly followed her back out to the restaurant. As they walked amongst the rows of white men feasting on the cum-filled crotches of the uniformed young girls, Candy took on a business-like tone once again. "Well, I hope you understand a little better how our business works now, Wendy. It's the oldest business strategy around: Find something that people with money want and charge a lot for it. And heaven knows that you tiny-dicked cumsucking white boys sure can't get enough black man's cum, that's for sure."

Even in its aroused state, Wendell's mind was able to focus once the topic turned to business. He thought about what he'd seen and asked, "B-but, if the girls keep the tips and the, uhh ... 'meal charge' is given to the young black men, how does this place make any money?"

"Good question, Wendy! I can see that Mr. Roosevelt chose you for a reason other than your tiny white weenie. You see, Wendy, Mr. Roosevelt has been independently wealthy for years. He's a silent partner in businesses owned by white men all over the city. He didn't start the cafe in order to make more money; he considers it a way of giving back to his community by employing promising young black men and teaching them how things work in the white man's business world. You see, once a white man has eaten black sperm, he's forever addicted. He'll do anything to get it. That's an obvious winning business opportunity for any enterprising black man."

"I ... I'm not sure I understa--"

"Wendell, if that muscled young stud over there offered to come into your office and bang your secretary every day, filling her pussy and ass with daily loads of cum for you to eat, yet only asked for 49% of your company in exchange for his services, would you do it?"

Wendell stared open mouthed at the stud in question as he pumped his huge cock in out out of the upthrust ass of a young blonde, then turned and answered with complete honesty, "Yes."

"You see my point then?"

"God yes, I understand completely."

As Wendell watched the final thrusts into the girl's ass, he shifted uncomfortably, trying to make his crotch less painful without touching it.

"Sorry I had to bag you, Wendy, but we can't have your sickening whiteboy seepage leaking through your pants. It's just unseemly. I can't have that in a family establishment."

Wendell looked around the room. The place was now filled to capacity with white men from every walk of life. It might have been the crowd from any suburban neighborhood bar & grill in America. Except the only thing on the menu was black man's sperm and the only thing on tap was white girl's piss.

His face took on a puzzled look. "I .. I don't mean to criticize, but ... a moment ago ... did you say family establishment?"

"Sure, Wendy. You don't need to sound so surprised. See the little man with his head between Lulu's thighs? The one in the blue sweater vest? Well, that's Walter Middlebury. The one seated next to him with his head between Chelsea's thighs is his son Miles. Miles is headed off to State next year and Wally wanted to get him used to the taste of black sperm. Y'see, even though Miles couldn't hit a basketball with a golf club, his parents expect him to be extremely active in the University athletic program ... if you know what I mean?" She grinned with inquisitive eyebrows.

"I ... I think I do."

"And seated in that booth over there ... where Jasmine is preparing a #4 Extra Fresh ... are three generations of Dickey men," said Candy as she gestured toward the young lady actively sucking off a completely naked black youth. All three men were mesmerized, but the already-glazed faces of the older men told Wendell that this load was for the youngest of the trio. Wendell's pecker strained anew against the confines of the plastic bag as a pair of large, dark hands grasped the girl's head and filled her mouth while she whimpered with pleasure. When she sat in the young white man's lap and clamped her mouth against his, the two older men smiled their best 'That's my boy' smiles.

"See, Wendy? Now that's family bonding, right? And you can tell from the way Jasmine's cum-filled kiss is lingering that's she's a bit sweet on the young Dickey boy there." Candy leaned in closely and said softly, "Don't tell anyone, but I think she's been sneaking him a few 'to go' meals every once in awhile."

"That's allowed?" Wendell asked in an oddly hopeful voice.

"Well, not officially, but it's one of those 'acceptable losses'. Call it an employee discount of sorts. We tolerate it ... especially if it looks like there might be a future for the young couple."

"Future?"

"Well, sure! Can you think of a better way for a young lady to pick out a decent little white cumsucker to keep her clean and happy? Who knows, Wendell ... maybe one of the girls will decide you're the spermlapper of her dreams and bring you a little snack after work sometime."

"Oh, that would be wonde--"

"Oh! I've got one more thing to show you!" said Candy excitedly. She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him toward the bathroom door. Wendell groaned slightly, hoping this wouldn't lead to something even more restrictive than the bag already bound tightly around his aching genitals.

"That's good enough, boys," Candy shouted to the two kneeling white men who were licking the white porcelain inside the urinals. "Out. Out! I've got business to attend to." The men jumped up and scurried out the door.

Once they were gone, Candy tugged at the chain around her neck and fished a key out from between her ample breasts. She put it in the hefty-looking lock of the plain brown door marked 'Utility Closet' that sat against the back wall of the restroom. The door opened with a creak. "Hurry, Wendy, before anyone sees!" She pushed him through the door into the darkness. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim surroundings.

"If you had any doubt we were family oriented, wait till you see this!" said Candy as she quickly shut the door again.

"Hi, Candy. What's up? My time's not up already is it?" asked a female voice.

Having been shoved into the room, the source of the voice was now behind Wendell, but he didn't turn to look at her. He was too mesmerized by the scene in front of him.

"No no, you're good for the whole afternoon," said Candy calmly. "I'm just showing the new accountant around."

"Oh, so this is Mr. Nubbin! Mr. Roosevelt mentioned that you two might be stopping by. How nice to meet you."

Wendell didn't move.

Candy started to giggle. "Don't forget, Fiona, he's new, so you'll have to pardon his rudeness." She nudged Wendell in the side with her elbow.

"Huh?" grunted Wendell. "Oh, I'm sorry. Nice to meet you to. It's just that ..." Wendell's eyes were still locked forward.

"Don't worry, Wendy. Anyway, this is tonight's clean up manager Fiona Fulmouth ... and the boys with the black cocks in their mouths are her twin sons, Neville and Nigel."

The scene that had so strongly caught his attention was a row of softball sized holes in the wall ahead of him. Through two of the holes were thrust a pair of large, half-limp black dicks. And kneeling below each dick was a young man suckling and licking along its length.

"After filling an order," Candy explained, "our chefs place their ... 'utensils' in the care of our clean up crew. Each black cock is carefully lapped clean of all residual semen and female juices. The chefs balls are licked and stroked to promote further semen production. Once stiffness begins to return -- which often takes only minutes -- the cock is returned to service in the kitchen. Understand, Wendy?"

"Huh? Oh, yes ... I think so," Wendell mumbled, not quite listening

"Oh, I know it sounds complicated, but you'd be surprised how quickly young white men pick up on it. We constantly bring in new white boys for family training and they almost always just seem to know exactly what to do."

Part of that actually caught Wendell's attention. "Family t-training?"

"Of course. You see, Wendy, in the interest of supporting strong family relationships, Mr. Roosevelt rents out this space for the city's mothers and their sons. Make sense?"

"N-not reall--"

"It's simple, Wendell. Obviously, it's every mother's duty to get her sons ready for married life. And we all know that cleaning sperm and white woman's juices off of a black cock are things that every good husband needs to learn to do well. Another few weeks of this and the boys will be all ready for their respective weddings. And just in time, too. Right, Fiona?"

"Right. Nev's wedding is next week," Fiona replied cheerily.

Candy touched Wendell on the shoulder. "There's quite a waiting list for this spot, of course."

"Of course," he replied absent-mindedly.

"It's a shame, really," Candy continued. "So many white boys are totally unprepared when the half dozen or so black men their new wives invite to the honeymoon suite arrive. Sure, they catch on just as soon as they're presented with their first blackfucked pussy -- just like you did. But a lot of unnecessary kicking & screaming can be avoided by proper training by caring mothers like Fiona here. The ability to properly clean pussy and ass juices off a thick black cock will make the wedding night more enjoyable for everyone. Plus, these boys are now so good at sucking a black man hard again that they're basically ensured 3 or 4 loads from each cock. And more cum means more fun for everyone, don't you agree?"

"Oh hell yeah," mumbled Wendell. "But ... " he turned to the two ladies for the first time with a look of consternation, " ... I didn't see this on the menu."

Fiona snickered, "They always want to head straight for the dick, don't they?"

Candy rolled her eyes. "Wendy, weren't you listening at all? This is a specially reserved dining area. We couldn't put this on the menu. The line would be around the block!"

Creampie Story - Creampie Cafe Part 3