I never thought my girlfriend would open up like that. We were sitting on the couch after a long night out, her legs draped over mine, when she looked me dead in the eye and said, "I've been meaning to tell you something about my exes." Her voice was low and steady. "I dated black men before you. A few of them. The sex was nothing like what we have."
She didn't hesitate after that. She told me about Marcus first. Tall, built, with a thick cock that stretched her pussy wide every time he fucked her. She said they met at a bar and within an hour she was in his apartment on her knees, sucking him off. "He grabbed my hair and shoved it down my throat," she said. "I gagged but I kept going because his dick tasted so good and felt so heavy on my tongue." She described how he bent her over the arm of his couch and slammed into her from behind, his balls slapping against her clit with every thrust. She came twice before he pulled out and shot ropes of cum across her ass and lower back. "I walked funny the next day," she added with a smirk.
Then there was Jamal. She met him through a friend and they hooked up on the first date. He had her stripped in his bedroom fast, spreading her legs and eating her pussy until she was dripping down her thighs. "He knew exactly how to lick my clit," she told me, her hand sliding between her own legs as she spoke. "But the best part was when he flipped me over and fucked me raw. His cock was long and curved, hitting spots you don't reach." She said he pounded her for nearly an hour, switching positions, making her ride him until her legs shook, then pinning her down and driving deep until he flooded her pussy with cum. She admitted she let him fuck her without a condom every time after that because she loved feeling him throb inside her.
The stories kept coming. There was Tyrone, who liked to fuck her in public places, bending her over the hood of his car late at night and stuffing her full while cars drove by. She described the way his thick head pushed past her entrance and how she had to bite her lip to stay quiet when he bottomed out. Another guy, DeShawn, made her suck his balls while she stroked his shaft, then flipped her onto all fours and railed her ass until she begged for more. She told me every detail without shame: the sounds their bodies made, how wet she got, the way their cum leaked out of her afterward.
By the time she finished, my own cock was rock hard in my pants. She noticed and climbed onto my lap, grinding against me. "Does hearing that turn you on?" she asked. I nodded. She pulled my dick out and sank down on it, her pussy already slick from talking about those bigger cocks. "They stretched me out," she whispered as she rode me. "But I still come back to you."
We fucked hard that night while she kept describing the encounters, mixing the memories with what we were doing right then. Her dirty talk got filthier with every thrust until we both came, her pussy clenching around me as she moaned about how those black men had used her.
After that night the stories became part of our sex life. Whenever she wanted to get me worked up, she'd start recounting another detail from her past. I learned to crave the raw way she described being taken by them, and she loved watching me react. It changed how we fucked, making everything dirtier and more direct. She never hid it, and I never wanted her to stop telling me.