Fresh Off The Bus 4 Ch. 01

John gulped. He drained his iced tea and looked at Marsha's body, then in her eyes. Her eyes were pleading with him. "Let's go."

Marsha grabbed her things, noticing Lester was watching her. She ignored him and hurried to catch up with John.

****************

Marsha wanted to scream with frustration as she slammed the door to John's room. She rested her back against the door and ran her hands through her long hair, pulling on strands until she felt some pain. John was another dud.

At least he had eaten her pussy and she had enjoyed a small orgasm. They had both eagerly stripped upon entering his room. His prick was nothing special, but Marsha stared at it eagerly, watching it. The thing didn't twitch when she took her top off. Nor did it plump up as she slid her panties down. She grew worried when she reached out to touch it and instead of growing, it shrank up into John's scrotum. John was frowning too. He pushed her away from it and pushed her back on the bed. That's when he went down on her. Marsha was aware of John's hands moving between his legs as he ate her. He was desperately trying to make it grow, but when he finished and stood up, it was even smaller then before. "I'm sorry," he whimpered. "I don't know what's wrong."

Marsha quickly stood and dressed in her suit again. She brushed him off when he offered to take her to dinner tonight. She fled his room as quickly as she could.

Marsha stepped out of the shower just in time for Bethany's interview. Her daughter was still in her bikini, sitting on their balcony watching the ocean. Her cell rang right on time for the interview. It was a journalist from the major Idaho newspaper who covered the yearly pageant. Five years ago, the same reporter had done a glowing interview about Ann. She had also covered the scandal in graphic detail. Bethany pushed speaker on her cell and placed it on the table as Marsha sat beside her.

Marsha stared out at the sea as her daughter answered the questions. Though she had orgasmed with John, she was still horny and unsatisfied. Two men in as many nights and both had been duds. Both men had been sure of themselves and wanted her, yet both of their pricks had been lifeless. Why? Was god trying to stop her from sinning? That was the only logical answer. As desperate for sex as she was, Marsha decided to give up her quest to get laid and remain faithful to her husband. Maybe she could find a sex shop and buy a dildo? She could have it shipped to her house to avoid embarrassment at the airport security checkpoint.

"Mom..."

Marsha came out of her daydream just as the reporter said, "Have any of the other contestants given you a hard time?"

"I don't want to talk about my sister," said Beth.

"You're the only contestant whose sister is an adult film star and lost her title do to a sex scandal."

"Miss Myers," interjected Marsha, "We agreed ahead of time not to mention Ann."

"We don't have to talk about anything personal, Mrs. Dutton, but I'm afraid it is news and will have to be reported on. Now tell me, don't you have a desire to redeem the Dutton family name?"

"Thanks for your time, Miss Myers." Marsha leaned over and shut the cell phone off. "Lets change and go grab something to eat on the boardwalk. Then we'll catch Rondini's early show."

Later, mother and daughter sat in the audience watching The Nubian King's stage magician, The Amazing Rondini perform his act. His wasn't a unique act except that Rondini was black unlike most magicians. He was overly muscular like most of the blacks at the casino. He went shirtless through most of his show. He wore an African necklace of claws across his chest and tight spandex pants that he must have stuffed to make his crotch look so huge. He wore a magicians top hat and after one magic trick that had him disappear, he reappeared with a white skull painted on his face and skeletal ribs painted across his chest. The white paint glowed in the dark. His assistants were white women wearing scanty bikini tops and loincloths similar to the ones the waitresses wore in the casino. Parts of the act were sexually suggestive and the Dutton women grew aroused while watching as they sipped their diet sodas. Rondini hypnotized one of the girls making her freeze as stiff as a board. He kissed her passionately then looked away as the bulge in his pants grew and traveled down his leg. He reached inside and pulled out a long black snake that wriggled in his hand. He put the snake away, but Marsha noticed the huge bulge around his crotch hadn't disappeared. Rondini then turned back to the frozen woman, placing her on a table before sawing her in half. The show ended with both women kneeling at Rondini's feet looking adoringly up at him. Marsha groaned inwardly, there was no escaping images of miscegenation sometimes. His later shows were supposed to be even dirtier and children under 21 weren't allowed. Still, it was entertaining.

The Duttons returned to their room and Marsha said, "You alright if I go out for a little while? I won't be late tonight."

"That's fine, mom." Bethany wondered if the hotel had solved it's problems with their adult pay per view channels. Maybe she would have time to masturbate again? She felt like she'd been horny since arriving in Atlantic City and nothing could cure her itch. Maybe she'd even find a movie with a white male actor.

No sooner had Marsha left the room, then Ann knocked softly at the door.

**************

Two Buck Tim's had a lively crowd and Marsha wanted to be alone with her thoughts. She strolled to the next lounge which was called The Addis Aba Bar. The names were plays on African cities and she smiled at the puns. The Adis Aba Bar wasn't crowded and she got a seat at the bar which had yet another massive black bartender. Marsha sat and nursed a margarita.

"Hello Marsha. May I join you?"

Marsha looked up, then down at Lester's smiling face. "Sure," she replied, a little miffed at having her thoughts disturbed.

"Bushmills whisky, Donovan," said Lester to the bartender.

"Do you know all the bartender's by name, Lester?"

"Most. How's your stay?"

"Fine."

"Problems with the pageant?"

"No."

"Other problems then?"

"Yes."

"Donovan, get this lady a refill. Now Marsha, why don't you borrow one of my ears. I'm told I'm a good listener and maybe I can help."

"I don't think you can help my problem," replied Marsha. The image of Lester making love to her came into her mind and though the thought was comical, she didn't smile. "But I think I will borrow one of your ears."

"Shoot," said the dwarf.

"It all started when I found out my daughter was making adult movies. Not Bethany mind you, she's sweet and innocent. I'm talking about my oldest daughter, Ann. One day, I received pictures in the mail..."

Lester listened attentively. He had fucked Ann Dutton in two of his movies, "Snow White and Dwarf Black" being his favorite. He was the star of that movie, also fucking the evil queen, waking the sleeping beauty with anal sex, etc. Marsha left out the fact that Ann was exclusively doing interracial movies. He had Donovan keep her drink filled and bought two shots. He patted her knee sympathetically when she told him about her husband. He pretended to be shocked when she told him about the man from last night and the guy from the pool.

Marsha was quite drunk by the time she finished her story. She was also hornier then she'd ever been. Marsha's nipples were scraping her bra and her legs were damp. It was almost unbearable.

"Oh no. I can't face my daughter like this? How'd I get so drunk?" Marsha looked at her watch. It was nearly midnight. "Oh my god! How'd it get to be this late?" She had planned on one or two drinks only.

"Come on. We can go up to my room to let you sober up some."

"Ok. No wait, I think I'll just walk around the casino until my head clears."

"I'll help you."

Lester and Marsha headed down to the casino floor near the table games. Marsha kept stumbling. "I can barely walk," she mumbled.

"I'm sorry I don't have a shoulder you can lean on," said the dwarf looking up at her. "You're right, you can barely walk. Lets just go to my room and we'll talk some more while you sober up some. I'll make some coffee."

"Oh god, coffee sounds great. I haven't been this drunk since I was a teenager."

Lester helped her as best he could towards the elevator. Marsha was surprised when the elevator kept going up. They were in the tower section and the most expensive rooms. The elevator opened near a window with a gorgeous view of the moon shining over the ocean. Marsha could see the roof pool far below. They were near the top floors. Lester led him towards his room.

"Wow!" said Marsha when he opened the door. "Nice."

"Yes, it's a Grand suite. I usually stay one better, the Regal, and sometimes I even splurge on a penthouse, but they're all booked for the pageant bigwigs."

Marsha was impressed with the room. She was surprised she'd never heard of Lester Nibelung. He must be doing alright as an actor to afford this kind of luxury.

"Excuse me while I use the restroom. You can start the coffee machine, if you'd like." Lester entered his bathroom, urinated and stripped his clothes off. His cock brushed the floor it was so big. His cock was twelve inches long when erect and usually just as big flaccid. His testicles hung to his knees. Lester had adopted a wide stance to account for his genitals and considering his legs weren't much longer then a foot this often left his cock touching the floor. He put a robe he'd been forced to buy in the children's department at a store. It reached his ankles and left his cock head visible.

"Coffee's almost done," said Marsha when Lester walked out. She eyed his robe suspiciously, but thought nothing of it.

"I'll fix us some cups. How do you take it?"

"Black."

"Excellent. Black is the best way to take it." Lester fixed two cups and handed it to Marsha. She was swaying a little from drunkenness. She took a sip as Lester sat down in a chair opposite her.

"Thanks for listening to me tonight," she said, looking into her cup.

"My pleasure. I've been thinking about your problem. I believe god wants you to be happy. Perhaps, he was just waiting for the right man to come along to take care of your needs.

Here it comes, thought Marsha. This little black man was hitting on her. What arrogance it must have to think it stood a chance with her. "I think god wants me to respect the fidelity of my marriage." Marsha looked up. As she did, her eyes rose up from Lester's feet. His robe had parted under the belt around his waist and his huge black appendage was clearly visible, dangling over the chair, hanging down even with his feet. "Jesus!" Marsha exclaimed, unable to help herself.

Lester looked down and grimaced. "Sorry about that. There's not much I can do with it. I'm pretty much always uncomfortable unless it's hanging free. I'm cursed with a small body and a normal sized cock."

"There's nothing normal about that thing. It's a monster!"

"Normal for a black man, I mean."

Marsha watched as the black penis swelled up, increasing in girth, like an expanding balloon. It had quit dangling and was starting to rise. "It's getting bigger."

"It does that when beautiful women stare at it." Lester hopped off the chair and let his robe fall to the floor. He climbed back on the chair and sat naked. His penis was sticking straight out now, perpendicular to the floor. "Sorry, it's not going down until I take care of it. Maybe you should go."

"Maybe I should." Marsha started to stand on shaky legs.

"Wait! You can at least finish your coffee."

"Oh yeah, I guess that would be alright." Marsha sat back down. She couldn't believe how muscular Lester's body was. He was as cut as any bodybuilder except for stubby legs and the slight hump. She watched Lester grab the fat head of his penis and squeeze it, before sliding his fist down the shaft. When he released it, his penis was now fully engorged and angling upward, pointing straight at her face. "It must be a foot long." Marsha shook her head in amazement. His ball sack hanging over the chair, dangling and swollen with two balls the size of peaches.

"Twelve inches exactly."

Marsha grinned wryly. "You certainly don't have a problem getting it erect either." She had found herself leaning forward to get a closer look at it.

"That's what I meant about not having the right man for the job. You needed to come home with a real man, not those limp dicked losers you told me about."

"Maybe you're right, but where can I find a man with a penis like yours? How can I tell the size of their penis by looking at them? I should be going. Thanks for the coffee." Marsha stood and walked over to the counter to set her coffee cup down.

Lester sneered at her back and his face turned darker as he flushed with anger. This uppity bitch didn't even consider him worthy of being a sex partner. "Well you ain't going to find a cock like this on a white boy. If you want a big one, you need to find a muscular black man to fuck. Would you consider fucking a black man?"

"Absolutely not," she replied.

"Why not? A bit racist are you?"

Marsha wiped sweat from her forehead. It felt hot in the room. "Personal reasons. Plus, that thing of yours is a bit ridiculous size wise. I doubt anyone could take it."

"This THING of mine is a cock, a big black cock, a superior cock to anything you've ever had before and I've never had a woman who didn't cum with the whole thing buried to the hilt up her tight white pussy."

Marsha crinkled her nose at it's crass language, but at the same time, her vagina squirted with excitement. "I've made you angry. I should go."

"Wait! I'm sorry. I lost my temper. It was very rude of me. It just hurts that you wouldn't even consider me as a lover because I'm black or a dwarf or both. I just hate bigotry. I've put up with it my whole life."

"I'm sorry. It's like I said, I have personal reasons. I'm not really a bigot, though I don't think the races should mingle and I suppose you should stick to women your own size."

"This cock ain't built for women my size, Marsha."

"Ha Ha, I guess you're right on that one." Marsha was standing over him now. "Thanks for the coffee, Lester." She held her hand out.

Lester reached up and shook it. He kept his hand locked in hers and pulled her down a little. "Marsha," he whispered. "Do you feel a little naughty?"

"Why?"

"Why don't you at least touch it," he said, still whispering, like it was a secret. He pulled her hand over to his cock head and released her from his grip. He brushed her fingers over the crown around the head, letting go of her hand when she caressed it on her own.

"Wow!" Marsha squeezed the head and tugged on the tip. "It's so hard." Indeed, the mighty cock hadn't shrunken an inch since getting hard. "It's so hot too, and thick. My fingers don't even touch. I can feel it throbbing."

"Why don't you check out the base and feel my nut sack too?"

Marsha kneeled, sniffing the air. The air seemed thicker around Lester's cock. It was a very masculine aroma that had her leaning closer to sniff it again. She had noticed the masculine smell before just being near the dwarf, but the smell was a lot stronger near it's penis. She liked it.

"Heft my big black balls," ordered Lester.

Marsha slid one hand down to the base of his shaft and pulled it up slightly to get a better look at his testicles. She reached out and hefted them. His scrotum was as hot as his cock, his big balls full of sperm. Marsha raised her eyes and found herself staring at the long urethra on his bulbous cock head, just inches from her mouth. The pee slit was leaking large amounts of fluid.

"Stick out your tongue and taste it."

Marsha's tongue flickered out and licked the pee slit. She shuddered with arousal.

**************

"What?" asked Ann.

Bethany blushed. "I accidentally saw you today."

"Yeah. By the pool."

"No. I mean on TV."

"Oh, you saw one of my movies. What were you doing watching that channel? Were you being bad?"

"It was an accident. I didn't mean to turn it on."

"Tell me something, Beth. Did I seem to be enjoying myself?"

"You were loving it. The black man was huge."

"Interracial porn actresses don't have to fake it. I told you I love my job."

"It was a pretty hot scene until I realized it was you. I just cant get a grip on the whole black men all have bigger cocks thing."

"That's because you're stuck in an Idaho state of mind, Beth. Watch some more movies when mom's not around.

There was a loud knocking on the door.

Bethany frowned. "Who could that be? Maybe you should hide."

Ann smiled. "It's room service. I had them send up a chicken sandwich. Sorry, but I'm famished. Don't worry, it's being charged to my room. Coming," yelled Ann, when there was another knock. Ann opened the door.

A big black man in his late twenties wearing a white coat pushed a cart in through the door. He nodded at Beth. The man was rather handsome, but a bit thuggish looking. His hair was short and cut in strips from his face to his back in a striped pattern. He also had a pierced ear with a large gold basketball shaped earring in it.

"Thanks porter," said Ann. "Add a twenty percent tip for yourself to the bill."

"Thank you, Miss," said The black man.

"Say porter," interrupted Ann as he was rolling the cart towards the door. "What's you name?"

"Bruce, ma'am." The porter was trying to keep from grinning, like he was hiding a secret.

"Hi Bruce. I'm Ann and this is my sister, Bethany. She's here for the pageant."

"Good luck to you Miss Bethany," he said. "You're quite lovely."

"Thank you," said Beth, wondering why her sister was delaying the man's departure.

"Bruce, my sister doesn't believe that black men have bigger cocks. I bet you have a big one, don't you."

"Never had a complaint, ma'am."

"Would you show it to her?"

Bruce looked Beth up and down. "You eighteen?"

"Yes," answered Bethany. "But exposing yourself is not necessary. I'll take your word for it."

"Nonsense, Miss." Bruce lifted his coat and unbuckled his belt. "You can see it."

"Ann! Stop him."

Ann laughed. "Black men like showing off their cocks to white women, Bethany.

"She's right, Miss Bethany." Bruce let his trousers fall around his ankles. He was wearing boxers that had a huge tent in them. "One problem though. I needs to be sure this isn't some sort of set up to get me fired for exposing myself."

"We wouldn't do that, Bruce," said Ann.

"I know, ma'am." Bruce walked with his pants around his ankles over to where Beth was sitting until he stood before her. "But if she wants to see it, she's gonna have to take it out."

"Ann!"

"Do it, Beth," sighed Ann. She walked over to Bruce and kneeled at his feet, staring wide eyed at the tented boxers. "Every time I see a new one, I feel like it's Christmas and I'm opening a new present. Hurry up Bethany, I want to see it."

Beth suppressed a sudden urge to giggle which meant she had decided to go through with it. She felt a little naughty as she leaned forward. "Here goes nothing," she said, pulling out his waistband.

Ann inhaled deeply through her nose. "Can you smell it?' A contented sigh escaped her throat. "So masculine."

Beth took a big whiff. "You're right." Her nipples popped out as she breathed in the smell coming from the man's crotch. Beth pulled the waistband out to it's limit, but the man's penis didn't spring free.

"You're going to have to reach in and get it, Beth," said Ann.

Beth nodded. She slipped her hand in the waistband, her fingers brushing through the man's pubic hair. She grabbed the root of his thick appendage. "It's massive! It's feels as thick as my wrist." Beth moved it around, watching the tent move under his shorts. "It's stuck, I can't get it out." The thing was straining against the material of the shorts. Beth moved her hand up the shaft and pulled again, but to no avail.