Freshmen BWC sitter

Nothing is as absurd as a wet cunt by the undisguised whim of someone younger than you, in age, size and even mentally. An innocent face, that young boy with scrawny body and the constant need for physical contact mixed with inordinate attention.

Axel was all that and I, the one who lived in the absurd; if I say that he was evolving I would be lying, He really ran over me like a truck, one day I was bored as in any shift on the third floor of the library and the next one, my mind was debating between what were the intentions of that boy and my urges.

He was only 3 years younger than me, but I must call him a "kid" because that's how my eyes perceived him, black women usually seem older than white boys, a powerful contrast. He was barely 50 kg and his height was just enough to reach my breasts, nothing more. Me, on the other hand, always big, a bit of genetics and black heritage, nice ass. big and firm to grab, 36D breasts that did not stop growing, and by that moment, they began to show me that I had zero control over what was happening with my nipples, their hardness did not correspond only to temperature changes but directly to the proportion of lust with which he saw me.

It was something that did not happen to me even with my boyfriend at that moment, of course, with direct stimulation I reacted, but Axel, just by appearing in the carpeted room, forced me to tighten my legs, forced to cover as much as I could of my big breasts with my coat and put my lips together (downthere) to answer only what was necessary and not to put him under my desk to recite all the formulas while he ate my black, foreign and superior pussy....

The idea of being unattainable for him but at the end serving him in such a primitive, instinctive and sexist way. To be just a supply of liquids: the one that would come out of my pussy because he was raping my clit, the one that would come out of my mouth if I had to stick him in a corner for 5 minutes to suck his white, pink, perfect cock because that would be the only way he would stop molesting me, and finally, the one that would come out of my breasts if he decided I should feed him just because he was white, minor and had everything but a black one.

He was from an excellent family, he even had a chauffeur, I never met his parents, but by the way he acted and what he wore, you could easily deduce that he was a rich kid from a cradle; capricious and one of those that everything they ask for is for yesterday, he can't stand a "no" or a "for later". That trait made me desperate, because I have a fixation with pleasing (in any sense), but it also bothers me a lot that they do not understand that everything has a limit, that there are times when things can not be as he wanted, at the time he wanted. I think he reached a point where in his mind there was only him and there was no -but- for whatever he wanted, and to my misfortune, what he always wanted was me.

I started helping him with small consultations on specific math problems, then it evolved to private lessons in the library study rooms, and finally, to classes in college classrooms after my cheerleading practice; He thought he owned my time, and if I told him I couldn't, he manipulated me that I couldn't pass the entrance exam, that I had no one else to help him and a million other silly things; which in the end were not so silly because I always gave in, telling myself that no more, that I had to make him understand that I had other things to do, my own studies, my relationship and my life. But that only fed his selfishness, it made all his needs seem urgent and it killed me with morbid curiosity that he needed me that way, that I tried to push him away or diminish him and he didn't want to; I got so wet every time I told him it would be the last time and he didn't pay attention to me, he just wouldn't look at my face, he would see my breasts like a hyena, quiet but ready to attack. And just that is what kept me and keeps me in the line of fire to this day, that he never attacked completely, never decided to take what he didn't know was already his; because my pussy was totally wet and lubricated for him to penetrate it against the wall, to press my breasts against the library counter and make me his little black whore, the kind that are cheap and even free. The kind that need so much to be fucked that they get on all fours if you ask them just by looking at them and when you cum inside them they don't even clean themselves because they want to be that dirty in their body and mind for several hours.

One day we were after six in the afternoon in one of the study rooms and it was time to finish the class, as usual, his girlfriend was already outside waiting for him, they used to go to the gardens (probably to touch each other) or whatever. He did not get the exercise, an iteration that was not implemented and while we were waiting for the result of his super expensive HP calculator, he began to prick me with the eraser of his pencil on my arm, I looked at him and asked him if he was very bored or had nothing else to do; he kept pricking me, his girl outside, behind my back behind the wall with the glazed half. Prick after prick he approached the center, I just watched him and gently asked him to stop, another and another and another. He slid the tip to the middle of my breasts and plunged it in, clearly the pencil was stuck between my mountains of flesh exactly as it would have been if he stuck his cock in; I saw his winning face, it was perfectly as he had imagined. I demanded him to take it out, his girlfriend outside and I was not his toy; he looked me in the eyes and gave me no, calm but emphatic, and there I felt the first shiver, I hate enormously to be told no but I enjoy it as much as my crotch gets wet when they don't obey me. I repeated:

-Axel, take out your pencil."

- "No!"

I was going to ask him one last time but I knew that was pointless, besides, I was already about to mount the table to ask him to eat my ass in front of his girlfriend, to break his heart right then and there. I was too close to giving myself away, and it wasn't the first time, the less effort he made, the easier he had access to me, I just had to be consistent, and boy was he consistent.

I got up, started to gather the few things I had and there and got close enough to tell him:

"I don't care about your iteration, I don't care about you getting into college, I don't care about your girlfriend being out, and you know why I don't care, because at no time can you behave like a man. I'm trying my best to take time out of where I don't have to help you and you're only getting more immature every time. That girl outside comes every day to wait for you, with a candy or a soda, all because she thinks you're trying so hard, but the truth is you're not. I have a boyfriend and a life too. I'm really sorry but you should find another tutor."

I didn't give him time to answer, I went out of that room like a rocket, I greeted Ambar with my eyes and went home; as horny as annoyed, I would have enjoyed so much that while I was scolding him he would have stuck his tongue between the channel of my tits well tightened by the training sport bra, that he put me with my tits in the air against the glass of that room so that they were obscenely glued and expanded in that transparency over and over again.

Not even two hours later and I received a message on my blackberry:

"Ambar waits for me every day because I invite her home to study but it's just to touch her in the car and in my room thinking about you. You leave me with swollen balls and she has to take care of it."

"swollen balls," I read it over and over; and my first thought was to have them inside my mouth, warm and very white; to get them all wet, I wanted them to dance inside while I was about to drown. That was an absurd thought, I was losing myself, I was convincing myself that I liked the immaturity of that boy; unacceptable.

The next day I went into the back of the counter, a room where we tried to sort out what was returned to us and minor restorations were done; besides not running into Axel I wanted to be somewhere a little warmer because I was in the throes of menstruation and my whole body hated me.

Crouched down stacking books I hear a knock on the door, it was that boy in a beige shorts and striped chemise,

-You can't be here," I said, without looking at him.

-"There's no one outside and I want to return these, can you help me?"

-"Leave them on the counter with the token and pick it up later, I'm busy. And when you go out, please close the door".

I continued without seeing him, clenching my legs and controlling my head. Mainly so as not to comment on the inappropriateness of that message from the night, I just wanted to turn the page and ignore everything that had or could have happened.

Without saying anything to me, he closed the door, and I finally took a deep breath, moistened my lips and checked that I was wet, the latter was unnecessary, as I had noticed a line running down my thigh a while ago. When I got up I saw that he was still there, he had indeed closed the door but with him inside and not only that, the shorts were now containing a gigantic erection, I could swear that I could see it throbbing under the fabric, I could also swear that my clitoris was throbbing at the same rhythm.

"I am no longer a virgin " she told me, a completely unnecessary and unwise information for me, so I remained silent. "I fucked amber on the couch at home yesterday. I did it like it was you and I finished it quick, I didn't get to put it all the way in."

I can assure you that my heart was racing, as well as at this moment, even my palms are sweating. It was so inappropriate what he was telling me but I didn't want him to stop, I wanted him to continue saying whatever he had in his head, that his erection would get bigger and more inviting while my mouth was watering and my pussy was screaming for him to steal it, that he would also try to penetrate it but that he wouldn't even manage to pull up my dress... that all this fantasy come true, so porn and so impossible would make him burst from inside, losing his shyness and staining me with his white, precocious and full of jealousy milk. That he decided to satiate his own and his own morbid desires.

That he decided to satisfy his and his friends' curiosity with me. That he would mix the envy of his girlfriend, the lack of attention from his parents, all those quiet handjobs inside the sheets of his bed watching older women, busty and above all, black. Women who should be worried about emancipating themselves, being independent, unattainable but end up falling super low by sucking their best friend's son's dick; just because it is a very criticized, insecure and macho act.

Getting him addicted to seeing his dick in friction with some black lips, a perfect tutor, superior and partner throwing it all away by punishing himself against a white dick; doing what no one would think of let alone admit. Spreading my buttocks apart to let his wet cock enter my pussy, not bothering to put it in slowly and gently, his inexperience making him clumsy and wanting to have it all at once, all the meat at the same time. standing over me and using my breasts as a foothold, watching them bounce would have him mesmerized, accompanied by my guilty face, holding back a few soft moans. biting my lips and begging for this not to end.

Impossible and unacceptable that I wanted to become Axel's sexual tutor, to become the owner of his morbid desire and that even though the years would pass, he would never become a man but more of a boy. It was not about him, it was and still is about me; about my fixation to please, to belong to no one but to want to belong to all white children at once, feeling responsible for their pleasure and happiness, not being able to define any limits and even when I do, it is only so that they cross them in the worst possible way.

I feel guilty when instead of love I desire morbidity, unable to reciprocate with romantic acts; they speak to me with affection and I can only think "use me, take advantage of my kindness and my inability to set limits". There is no need for humiliation coming from anyone, because the worst humiliation comes from my own head; to know that as a woman I must defend so many things, assert rights and be an example. But what kind of example am I, if life puts me in situations where time and time again I am going to lose, because I am a woman with the body, mind and character of a mother, but on top of that I am black, busty and very, very complacent.

Feeling shameful and sorry that these kind of situations drive me wet and needy of a BWC to sit.