“Well normally it wouldn’t be but with the big game coming up I thought we should discuss what you can do to ensure that Ron is at the top of his game,” she replied in a manner one would normally reserve for talking about a test taking strategy. “I have no idea what you are getting at, Sandy. I don’t tell Ron how to play football and he doesn’t tell me how to lead cheers. And what does any of this have to do with Ron and me ‘doing it’?” I asked trying to maintain eye contact with Sandy. “Well,” began Sandy, “There are ways that a cheerleader can motivate a football player that aren’t covered real well in cheer camp. I am talking about promising to give him a little if he does well and we win the Big Game.” Sandra had now finished drying her feet and was slipping into a little skirt sans panties. I had dressed with her often enough to know that she wouldn’t be putting on panties later. I guess she considered it a time saving mechanism given her lifestyle. “Sandra!” I exclaimed. “You. Just how I felt the first time her father ****d me. I quipped, ignoring the raging bastard, "Do you want it in your ass, slut? I bet you have fantasized about black cock all your life." "What? No," she said, as Jamal fished out his big nine inch cock. "Don't lie to us, you little slutty tease," Jamal said, shoving his cock in her mouth. I walked over to Master, whose eyes were big and clearly full of fury and yet his body betrayed him. I explained, "The r****g of your daughter is your fault." He raged, "You nigger bitch, I'll fucking..." I slapped him across the face. "You already did that. Although I can't say I really felt anything with your pathetic cock. Jimbo, come and show our white Master, what a real cock looks like." The large black man walked over to us and whipped out the biggest cock I had ever seen. It was ten inches long and thick. "Get that nigger dick away from me," he demanded. I glanced over to see Jamal roughly face-fucking our white damsel in distress. "That we can.
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