Lorissa’s ‘Deep South’ Induction

My name is Walt Mitchell. My story took place in the early 80’s and is a tale I’ve been trying to put down on paper for a long time. Despite the number of years that have now past by those precious yet vivid memories are still so fresh in my mind. Especially when I recall how strongly those black studs had a mind to fucking what would have been for most, their first white, teenage girl. Lorissa was a well-known and I’d say very popular girl within our quiet, farming community. Partly as her Aunt Catherine had such strong ties with the local Church but mostly because ‘Lori’ was such a naïve, sweet creature. It didn’t help that her aunt had sheltered her all her life and still dressed her up like a doll every Sunday. I guess you could have said that most ‘decent’ folks around these parts were real fond of her in a protective sort of way. For the rest of us, well, at eighteen she was a flower just waiting to be plucked.

During the time of my sordid little account our town of Stanton had a population of maybe five hundred. Set in the deep American south we were no different to any other country hovel and had the same prejudices to boot. White generations of families still owned nearly all the good land and saw themselves as respectable God fearing people. Though we had plenty of those who still held their principles too high for their own good. Catherine in particular. This was especially evident in the attitude to farm hands, most of whom it has to be said were Negro’s. Earning a living in the cotton fields was back breaking work and had sustained wealth in the region since the 1800’s. Some people wanted to keep things the way they where. The number of black families living around Stanton outnumbered the whites by some distance but what some folks really took exception too was when they started moving into town and setting up their own businesses. Times were changing and I had begun to notice how the young black men of our time were no longer willing to be the underclass. Folks in Stanton though could be real set in their ways. Maybe they woke up one morning and found out that it was they whom were the minority now.

Catherine and Lorissa McAllen had their small farmhouse a couple of miles from the centre of town. It overlooked my own and as my wife had died some years earlier, I’d become friendly with them both. Good natured as Catherine was she never appreciated the black influx; some of whose Grand-daddies her late husband Earl had paid peanuts to build that house and farm the surrounding lands. Change worried her as it did many the main town was off limits to Lori and other women under a certain age. Though it was never uttered at meetings what they really feared was a mixing of races. Catherine was worried that her nieces innocence, long dark hair and beautiful, China doll figure might just get her noticed by a confident young Negro. I knew this to be the case for sure. The girl had always been very pretty. Slender with beautiful, full rounded tits. She had one of those sweet, shy faces, big brown eyes and a giddy curious nature. Terrified of how easily led her niece might be Catherine ‘restricted’ her. So over time and being a lonely girl with no friends, except for the few yard animals she named, it was always easy to lead Lori along. Teaching at home, as Catherine had, hadn’t helped matters either.

Tom Granger and his wife Danielle were friends of mine who had only just moved to Stanton. A pervert of similar standing to myself, Tom had been bowled over by the strict, old fashioned nature that still hung around. He was amazed at his first town meeting. They all knew, maybe even Catherine, that their ways only had a few years left. Of course, feeling the injustice Tom was eager to speed things on. He was privileged therefore that in Danielle he had a wife who not only enjoyed but relished in exhibitionism. A fine, full bodied woman with wonderful ass and legs she would often be dressed up at all times of the day, wear very short skirts or go without a bra. Having met at an adult party in Detroit she fucked whomever her husband found for her. Group sex parties did not fit into Stantons way but that certainly didn’t stop them. Within four months they had set up a club that brought in two other local, similar minded couples looking for something new and daring. They used a motel in town and the no small shortage of black cock eager to service married white pussy to produce pornographic videos. You can imagine just how Catherine and the rest responded when they found out.

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