Interracial Group Penetrations: 3-Book Bundle - Nixie Fairfax - ebook

Three sizzling interracial gangbangs, featuring white women who succumb to the powerful allure of virile, well-hung black men and are soon screaming with wanton bliss as they’re taken hard and unprotected by multiple ebony studs. Included in this collection are: “Gangbanging the Policewoman” - When police officer Alison barges in on an inner-city gangbang and the girl flees in alarm, the men want Ali to take the girl's place. Though Ali knows she shouldn't, she soon yields to temptation and lets the five incredibly well-hung black men have their way with her. “Blacked by the Football Team” – Impetuous coed Nessa has learned of a peephole through which she can watch her college’s hunky all-black football team shower after practice. But when she gets caught peeping by the team, the twelve brawny jocks give the petite blonde a lot more than just an eyeful of their hard, ebony bodies. “Gangbanged on My Wedding Night” - When Jessica’s new husband passes out from too much champagne before they can consummate their marriage, she heads to the hotel bar to drink her disappointment away. There, she meets five sexy black bodybuilders whose brazen advances draw the horny young bride into a steamy interracial gangbang.

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Interracial Group Penetrations

3-Book Bundle

By Nixie Fairfax


Gangbanging the Policewoman

Blacked by the Football Team

Gangbanged on My Wedding Night

Gangbanging the Policewoman

by Nixie Fairfax

Copyright 2017 by Nixie Fairfax

All rights reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This work contains explicit sexual content and is intended for adults only. All characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

Officer Ali Hunt turned her cruiser onto East 22nd Street and watched the derelict houses roll past, a procession of boarded-up windows, trash-littered porches, and lawns overgrown with shin-high weeds. This was a bad neighborhood, the haunt of gangs and bums and crack whores. But thankfully it had been a quiet night so far. And it was already nearly midnight. It looked like she was going to make it through her whole shift without having to deal with anything worse than that vandalized car on Hudsucker Road.

Good thing, too. She was eager to get home to her boyfriend Josh. To his cock, his hands, his tongue. She was ovulating, and as often happened at such times, she was horny as hell. Even the stresses and cares of her job couldn’t fully suppress the wanton urges stirring restlessly within her. A few times during her rounds she had been sorely tempted to park the cruiser in some isolated spot, yank down her polyester pants, and rub herself silly. She probably should have just called off. Too late now, though. At least her shift was almost over. Only another half hour and she could head back to the station and then to the apartment she shared with Josh.

She had spent much of the last hour imagining exactly what she was going to do when she got there. She would slip inside quietly, furtively, stealthy as a burglar. Josh would be asleep as usual, and after stripping off her uniform, Ali would crawl onto the bed and pull down the sheet to expose his lean, muscular naked body. She’d take his cock in her mouth and start sucking it, feeling it swell and harden between her lips. He’d wake up then, but he’d pretend to be asleep a while longer to enjoy the sensation of Ali’s warm, wet mouth sliding up and down his shaft. But soon he wouldn’t be able to control himself, and he’d grab her and pull her up and flip her over onto her back and—

A woman screamed in the night.

Ali hit the brakes and looked around. It had sounded like someone was getting murdered. But where?

She started to reach for her radio, but then the woman screamed again, and this time Ali was able to pinpoint the sound’s origin: an abandoned house to her left. The windows were boarded up, and a weather-faded For Sale sign leaned amid the crabgrass and dandelions on the lawn. The front door stood slightly ajar. A dim light shone through the boards covering the windows of a room on the first floor. The light flickered faintly as figures moved about inside.

Another scream rang out, and before the sound had ceased, Ali was out of the cruiser and sprinting across the lawn, her gun drawn.

As she sprang up the steps and leaped a bulging trash bag on the porch, the woman inside the house wailed, “Oh, my God! Oh, my God!”

Ali shouldered open the front door hard enough to make it rebound off the inside wall and send chunks of plaster clattering to the floor. Ahead of her was a living room, stripped bare except for a broken, three-legged couch in front of a crude table made from a sheet of plywood placed atop a pair of cinderblocks. The walls were covered with graffiti, and here and there a hole had been punched through the plaster. The corners were littered with beer bottles, fast food wrappers, empty plastic baggies.

She looked around. There: to the right, down a short corridor, a bar of light shone underneath a door.

“Oh, God! Oh, my God!”

Ali raced down the hallway and kicked open the door, gun raised.

And then she froze, struck dumb by what she saw.

The room was devoid of furniture save for a bare mattress in the middle of the floor and an old lamp that sat in a corner, its unshaded bulb starkly illuminating the carnal spectacle before her. On the mattress a young naked black woman was in the throes of what appeared to be a nailbreakingly intense orgasm no doubt brought on by the five naked black men fucking her. The one whom the woman was straddling was sunk deep in her pussy. Another knelt behind her with his cock in her ass. A third was in her mouth. And she was jerking off the other two, who knelt on either side of her.

The men gawped at Ali in surprise. The woman, whose eyes were scrunched shut in ecstasy, hadn’t seen Ali yet and apparently had been too immersed in her passion to even hear the door banging open, but upon feeling the men’s thrusts stop, she opened her eyes and looked around. When she saw Ali and her gun, which in Ali’s shock was now drooping down, its muzzle pointed at the floor, the woman screamed, this time in alarm.

“Fuck!” she cried. “Fuck this shit! I’m outta here!”

Before the men could stop her, she jumped from the cluster of naked bodies, snatched a silver lamé dress and a pair of silver stilettos off the floor, and bolted out a door on the far side of the room.

As the smacks of the woman’s bare feet rapidly receded down the corridor, Ali continued staring at the five men, but now it was with something more than mere surprise. Not only were these guys all hot as hell—tall, handsome, muscular—but they were shockingly well-endowed, especially the one who had been fucking the woman in the pussy. His cock was the biggest Ali had ever seen this side of a horse stable: a foot-long shaft as thick as her wrist, its dark-brown surface glistening with the woman’s juices. It jutted up from his recumbent body like the symbol of some pagan fertility god, one of those things peasant women would travel miles to kiss and pray to for a successful conception.

Ali’s ovulation-fueled arousal had faded in the tumult of the last thirty seconds, but now, at the sight of these five virile and hugely erect naked men, her pussy grew hot and wet all over again. For a moment she didn’t know where to focus her eyes. Her flustered gaze darted from man to man, penis to penis. The room stank of sex: sweat, semen, the black girl’s juices, the warm, musky aroma of half a dozen aroused bodies. It was thick, dizzying.

“I…” Ali shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “I heard screams. I thought—”

“Shit, woman.” The man who had been fucking the girl in the pussy got up off the mattress. He was the tallest of the group, about six-four, and he had the build of a weightlifter: thick quivering pecs; crisply defined abs; slender waist; firm rounded butt. Tats covered his skin, including a big Gothic “Z” on his left breast and a dragon coiling up his left leg, the tip of its tapered tail circling his ankle and its horned and red-eyed head emblazoned on his right hip only inches from that far more impressive serpent between his thighs. The man’s confident bearing—he seemed completely unfazed by Ali and her drawn gun—and the way the other four men held back a little as he stepped forward to confront her showed that he was the group’s leader. “You scared her off.”

“Yeah, what’d you have to come bargin’ in like that for?” said another of the men, a shorter, hairy-chested guy with a goatee. “We was all just about to come.”

“Who was that woman?” Ali asked, striving her mightiest to keep her eyes on the men’s faces and pretend she wasn’t acutely aware of those five huge cocks, all of which were still fully erect and now pointing straight at her. She scanned the men’s clothes strewn on the floor around the mattress. No guns. No weapons. No drugs. They looked clean. She holstered her pistol, but kept one hand close to it, just in case. “Was she a prostitute?”

The leader gave a derisive snort.

“Shit, you think we need to pay for it? She was just some nice young thing we was givin’ a good time to. And here you gotta come in and fuck it up.” He shook his head, then paused and regarded Ali a little more closely, looking past the uniform at the body inside it, at her face, her eyes, at her. Ali squirmed under the scrutiny. A small smile curved his mouth. “‘Course, I’m sure we could come up with a way for you to pay us back.”

“Yeah!” exclaimed another of the men, this one with cornrows and a long, thin face. “With interest.” His gaze slid down Ali’s body, and he grinned. “Lots of interest.”