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Birth of a Prince

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I’m a dark-skinned 23 year old male, 5’10, brown eyes and nicely built. For most of my life, I was brought up in a catholic household mostly full of black women-My mom; her two younger sisters-my aunts; Mom’s cousin-Lucy, and Grandma. Mom and dad split up when I was 8 and over the years I resented him for not coming around much. Mom never told me why she and dad split up but in a drunken stupor during my first communion, my uncle joked about it to the howling laughter and delight of his friends and a few relatives. “Imagine that,” he scoffed. “Mr. Black Revolutionary loves shoveling snow…HAHAHAHA.” The punchline of the joke stems from the fact that dad, a very well respected member of the community back then, was heavily involved in the Civil Rights movement and founded his own Chapter of the Black Panther party in the neighborhood. A lot of people were sure he’d go into politics and represent us in our struggles as he was considered the avant-garde of the young, intelligent, vocal and powerful black leadership back in those days. What happened to change that remained a mystery to me for most of my life as no one in my family would or wanted to volunteer that information.

For a while, Mom was very cross with uncle not only for the joke but for especially saying it in front of me. Even though my 8-year old brain hadn’t the faintest clue as to what he was talking about but realized what he meant in my late teens and hated my father even more, and to some extent, white women for breaking up my family. Over the years, he and I would have bitter arguments about everything so to spite him, I joined the military. He told me I would regret it, and for a while I was having fun pissing him off with that until I was activated to go to Desert-Storm.

But before leaving for Saudi Arabia, I had become a man, living on my own enjoying my mew freedom, the single life-strictly dating black women, and best of all discovering me. I got a surprising phone call from Dad one day to meet up for coffee. Not being able to come up with an excuse, I reluctantly agreed and met up with the old man just to get it over and done with. In light of what he explained to me in that meeting, we put aside our differences. And besides not having a father-son relationship is a fucked up legacy, so we started to bond; until I was activated to go to Desert Storm a few short months later, now I was regretting me spiting him.

After serving a grueling 18 month tour of duty in the middle-east, I was finally returning home to be greeted by my dad and to my shocking surprise, his stunning new wife Anna- “My Hungarian BOOTY QUEEN..HAHAHA.” As pops introduced her.

“Yves you’re so bad.” She gushed as we shook hands and then said, “Oh my he’s so much more handsome than the pictures show. Beautiful smile, smooth, deep chocolate skin, you were wrong Yves, he’s much better looking than you are…HAHAHA!”

I must say she made me, a dark-skinned man blush, which was very hard to do, with that assessment. As soon as she finished her wise crack he smacked her PHAT ASS and said, “Get yo sassy ass in the car, you gonna pay for that later.”

“Ow…Don’t threaten me with a good time DADDY.” She rebutted and we jumped in the car as they both laughed.

Having to give up my job and apartment due to military duty and since mom moved back to Chicago shortly after my departure, meant that I was going to be living with Dad- who was more than happy to have me stay with him, until I could get on my feet. A move that essentially helped us resume our healing relationship. I sorely missed the old man while I was at war. He was quite the motivator as his letters lifted my spirits and gave me so much hope. It’s like he was keeping me alive with those letters. Despite the distance, we were beginning to understand one another, it was like I had found a long lost friend a gain.

Dad is now a dark-skinned, 54 year-old, distinguished looking man with salt-pepper hair, 6′ with an athletic build and developed a little bit of a gut to what he calls “the good life,” being with Anna since marrying her almost 2 years ago. Pops was a handsome man and was no slouch when it came to turning his fair share. Anna on the other hand, was fine and amazingly voluptuous for a white woman. She was 44, a red-head, sporting healthy proportions of 32-23, a 50″ basketball-round-protruding BOOTY that rivaled that of any black woman and knew how to strut her stuff in her 5’7″ frame with thick luscious legs. This chic turned many heads younger women half her age wished they could, wherever ever she went.

Dad and I weren’t the only ones bonding in that house. Since I was a chef in the military, Anna and I spent a lot of time in the kitchen exchanging recipes, techniques, and chatted up a storm about everything as we either took turns cooking or prepared something together. Evidenced by Dad’s constant grunts, moans and rolling of his eyes-to both of our delights and laughter when he ate. He didn’t talk bursa eskort bayan or lift his head up from his plate until he was done. I must say we were a dynamic duo in the kitchen. In my mind at least, mixing these ingredients had become a romantic adventure between us, it was a platform where we expressed ourselves to each other, like lovers. I sensed that we were becoming attached and growing quite fond of each other.

While preparing one of our delicious meals, I asked Anna of her past. Before the communist occupation of Hungary, Anna’s husband owned a big construction firm and they lived a luxurious life with their young daughter Beata. However, things took a drastic turn after her husband’s untimely demise because of his heavy political involvement in the resistance to communism. Hunted, she and Beata fled the country and narrowly escaped the new regime’s wrath with the help of his best friend and ultimately immigrated here via Germany. They fell on hard times once they arrived as they spoke little English, were quickly running low on funds and hence moved to the ghetto since that’s all they could afford. Due to skyrocketing rents and a pleasant change in the neighborhood over the years, they remained in there long after Anna became a RN and worked at the Presbyterian Hospital. Living in the hood, it’s easy to see how Anna was attracted to and loved her men- black, since her husband..

Living with Dad and his WHITE BOOTY QUEEN was mentally and physically torturing me. First was their relationship. It didn’t take me long to figure out that something weird and very kinky was going on. Rarely if ever did she call him by name, it was always, “My King”, or “Daddy. This woman was not only in love but worshiped my father and would do anything and I mean anything for him. To further demonstrate that, upon Dad’s insistence, in the house she wore her various short, lacy dresses, that hung just to the top of her thighs, barely covering her huge ass, displaying the beautiful and sexy thong(that’s all she ever wore) of the day which exposed her ample, jiggly white ass cheeks. Complete with 4” high heeled, satin bedroom slippers. He loved her attire as he smacked her PHAT ASS and caressed her thick legs every chance he got; much to her delight. She was his bitch and proudly knew her place. He asserted his position nightly when I’d hear him make her scream as he pounded her into submission with very climatic orgasm after orgasm, after orgasm, after orgasm. He didn’t lift a finger once he got home from work as she was at his becking call. I couldn’t believe how subservient she was to him and, to my reluctance, me too. I wasn’t used to that. The black women in family and the ones I dated would sooner laugh at me asking them to get me a drink or dare I ask,cook me a meal. In a twisted sense, as twisted as their relationship, I was proud to see pops handling her like that and lived vicariously through him at this display. I was changing to what, I don’t know and that scared me.

Then there was my confusion fueled by her constantly sexually tormenting me. She knew I wanted her and made it a point to kill me every chance she got with her ample derrière and voluptuous figure in what would become a ritualistic tease game between us;our own unspoken secret language, right under Dad’s unsuspecting eyes-at least in my mind.

She would smirk and walk with a purposeful shake whenever she noticed me furtively looking or unconsciously squeezing my cock in honor of the awesome display of her feminine flesh.. I would purposely leave the door to my room opened just so I can watch her walk back and forth. That cock teaser would slow her pace just when she got to my door and always seemed to drop something in front of the door just so she could bend over and moan, “Mm mm-” to picked it up then smiling and winking at me as she got up. She often wandered into my room to watch the COOKING CHANNEL with me as she wasn’t much of a football fan. There she would play her most grueling cock tease games and torture me with her gorgeous figure during commercial breaks.

Because of the view, she sometimes seductively strode with a purposeful shake of her PHAT ASS to my window and bending over to look at her garden.

“OOo, my roses are looking very BULBOUS this year.” She would add emphasis on ‘bulbous’ and the site-all ass, juicy thighs and legs was driving me insane.

“Mmm and that JAASSSMINE smells so good.” Adding emphasis on ‘AS’ in jasmine. By then I’d be rubbing my forehead in my hand as though I was suffering from headache.

“You ok?” She’d ask after finally standing back up and walking to resume her usual seat on my computer chair.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just thinking about the recipes that chef was talking about in that last segment.” I lied as I was fighting a raging hard-on I know she’d be able to spot as I was only dressed in boxer briefs and a wife-beater. It was times like this that having a big dick was a hassle. That fucking bitch.

“Well don’t rub that head too much bursa otele gelen eskort bayan my PRINCE, we wouldn’t want it to explode now would we?” She said pouting her lips as she was playfully caressing the faded part of the back of my head, which she loved to do.

We both laughed but I think for different reasons. I was laughing at the double entendre of that statement but based on the evil smirk hidden underneath that playful smile, I got the feeling that she was laughing at the effect her torturous cock-tease was having on me. I was having a hell of a time holding back that beastly hard-on after that display and she knew it and was doing her worst to break me. Commercial break over back to the show neither of us was watching.

Being slightly positioned in front of me, I could see the spread of her ass when she sat in my chair. GOOD LORD, that shit was amazing to me the way her ass and thighs spread on that chair, over hanging the sides and back as though there wasn’t enough surface space on the chair to contain all this flesh. My eyes were glued to her backside and she, randomly watching me from the corner of her right eye would unnecessarily shift her ass on that chair as though she was grinding on it, like a cock. Once, she got up to get us some drinks during a commercial break. Not being able to help myself, I leaped out of my bed as soon as she was gone and was deeply inhaling her smell off the leather seat as though I were a coke head doing some serious lines. I was in a trance rubbing my cock as I inhaled the sweet pungent smell of her ass and lost track of all space and time when, to my shock and embarrassing surprise, she peered her head in the bedroom to ask me a question and saw me in action.

“My PRINCE, how many…uhhh..what are you doing?” She asked with shock and the most puzzled look on her face. As though she didn’t know.

“OH SHIT! BUSTED!” I thought to myself. “Oh nothing mom, I remembered there was a loose screw at the bottom of the chair and didn’t want you to get hurt when you sat on it.

“Hmmm…ok, how many ice cubes would you like in your Rum & Coke darling?” She asked with the most peculiar and suspicious look on her face at my weak answer.

“Oh, just 3 please.” Still casting me suspicious looks, she said ‘ok’ and resumed her trip to the kitchen. I defiantly and carefully resumed to smelling the seat and had a screw driver in hand, looking like I had just finished tightening an already tight screw under the chair by the time she walked back in the room.

She came in with the two drinks in hand and handed me mine looking at me like a detective eying a suspect she knows is guilty. “So did you fix the chair? I wouldn’t want to bust that fabulous looking ass of mine.” She said while swaying her ass in my face and a real fucked up smirk on her face I was almost beginning to hate.

I gave a weak laugh and sheepishly replied, “yeah, it’s as good as new now, you could sit on it.” My face was flush with embarrassment and I sipped on my drink for something to do. She resumed her seat, the show was back on and so was the tease game.

This time when she sat on the chair, she crossed her right leg over the left and was leaning on the left arm of the chair thereby totally giving me a full view of her right cheek, just hovering above the seat with the left cheek all spread out underneath her and dangling her satin slipper off her right foot. Man I couldn’t take it. I was fidgety and taking frequent sips of my drink while she was making ambiguous remarks about the ingredients on the screen. That fucking cunt.

“Oh my what delicious looking piece of meat. So dark, thick and lean looking don’t you think?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s a nice looking piece of steak.” I coolly replied.

“And look at that girthy looking cucumber there, and the mushrooms, such bulbous looking mushrooms.” The more she spoke, the more she moved, the more she moved, the more that hovering right cheek jiggled in the air over the chair like that.

“Mercy.” I whispered while rubbing my forehead again. “What did you say hon? Did you say ‘mercy’?”

“Oh no, I said, ‘I see.’ When you mentioned the mushrooms.” Taking another sip of my drink that was now almost done.

“Hhmm…” She said as she half smirked and frowned suspiciously at me again with elevator eyes. She turned her head, uncrossed her legs and with both feet on the floor resumed her grinding and writhing motion while arching her back and randomly casting me suspicious looks at the corners of her eyes and smirking every time she heard me sigh.

I was slowly losing the heavyweight bout in my pants. I wouldn’t be able to maintain this composure for long and this cock teasing bitch from hell knew it and was waiting for me finally let that bulge grow. So far the only thing’s that’s kept me at bay is guilt. Pops and I were really starting to get enjoy each other again for the first time and I didn’t want this to come between us and bursa eve gelen escort break our newly built relationship. Why was she doing this? Does she know of the possible consequences if he found out? Or does she even care? I got angry at her at times but that anger quickly melted like an ice cube in lava as soon as I spotted that PHAT ASS or when I was looking at her beautiful face as she spoke to me.

“I’m sorry did you say something?” I asked coming out of that deep thought.

“Yes I’m going back for more drinks would you like me to…top… you off?” She said with a slight lust in her tone, now eying the bulge that had grown in my crotch and looking pleased with herself at the sight of my newly broken will.

“Yes please.” I embarrassingly said as I handed her my glass.

She took the glass and made her way to the kitchen. Once I was confident that she was gone, I took another whiff of the chair exactly where he ass had been laying and was inhaling her heavenly musks with my eyes closed. The sounds of footsteps click-clacking on the floor alarmed to her return and I went back to my seat at the edge of the bed. She looked at me then the computer chair when she came back in and asked,”fixing the chair again?”

“No, why?” I replied. I just noticed that the seat is in a different position.” “Fuck!” I thought to myself, I forgot to rotate the chair back to its original position.

“So did you enjoy it?” She asked with a flirtatious look on her face.

“Umm…enjoy what?” I asked in bewilderment

“Nothing, if you don’t know then I don’t know.” She sighed while smirking.

She was now fucking with me and I didn’t know how to handle it. Had she been some other chic, yeah I would’ve admitted it and pushed all kinds of envelopes but being that it was dad’s woman, I was trying to steer clear of those murky waters out of respect for him. So I let it go. To my relief pops called for her. “Ok time for wifely duties my PRINCE.” She announced as she sprang from the chair.

“Why do you call me that?” I asked.

“Call you what my PRINCE.” She queried once more.

“That, ‘Prince’.” I answered.

She kneeled in front of me, lifted my chin with her right hand, caressed my face with her left. While looking at me deeply and longingly, she spoke to me as though she were speaking to a young god who hadn’t realized his potential and then said:

“Because my PRINCE, that’s what you are. Somewhere along the lines you’ve forgotten that. And I hope someday, hopefully through me (she giggles), you will remember that as you ascend to claim what’s yours and eventually be what you were born to be, a KING.” She rose up kissed me on the forehead, gave me the tightest hug and bidding me goodnight.

“Sweet dreams my PRINCE.” She said as she gently and sexily strolled out of my room and closed the door smiling at me the whole time.

“OK what the fuck was that all about?” I asked myself. I feel like I had just stepped into a strange new world that’s existed for quite a while. What did she mean by me ascending and claiming what was mine? There’s that weird, kinky shit again. Something was going on and I wanted to find out. It all started in that bedroom in my fathers and that’s where I’ll start. There was more than fucking going on in there and I was going to find out. Searching for answers, I became a voyeur to their sexual escapades.

One night after watching a movie I rented and shortly before we started our nightly ritual of preparing for bed. She looked at him lovingly and asked, “anything for you before we go to bed my King?”

He sat there thought for a second and said, “I feel like a prayer tonight.”

This chic beamed and came like the Christmas tree at Rockefeller plaza and gleefully squealed, “Oh yes my King, yes. I’ll get myself ready.” She wished me goodnight with a beaming smile and quickly left the room.

Now I’ve been around many religious people as well as fanatics in my life but I’ve never seen a person behave to this way over a prayer. I was going to find out what the fuck is going with these two tonight. I looked at pops and he gave me that same arrogant smile and said to me, “ya gotta know how to put them in their place son, that’s my secret.”

He padded me on the shoulder as he laughed and asked if I was going to turn in as well. “Nah, gonna play some midnight ball with the fellas at the Rec. Center.” I replied.

“Oh ok, bust some ass for me son, still got that wicked cross-over I taught you as a boy?” Gesturing the basketball movement and laughing as he said this.

“Yeah I still got it pops, been workin on my long range shots lately. They have no answers for me when they fall.”

He laughed and proudly bragged, “that’s ma boy.” He then leisurely walked to the bedroom about to conquer this eagerly awaiting cock-teasing BOOTY QUEEN after wishing me a good game and goodnight.

Once I heard the door close I quickly got up, with hurried pace, walked out of the front door, quietly snuck into the tool shed behind the garage, grabbed the step ladder, walked around the house, damn near hugging the walls of the house avoiding the wake of the motion sensors as I walked. I propped up the ladder, climbed up and now had a front row seat of daddy’s dominance over his white BOOTY QUEEN; through his bedroom’s opened window.

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